Graceful Rooms of Alabaster Stone

. . .


Seemed the other wolf knew little of the matters which were Cross's life story. The boy's belly was clenched with a curiosity, a desire to ask all that the stranger knew of the pack they carelessly called Glaciem. What had happened to the usurpers? Had they dispersed? Been usurped themselves? Made some sort of agreement? What was Glaciem now? The shale brute before him seemed a solid sort - were the rest of the pack like him? Any other child probably would've given into such impulses, but Cross had held his tongue for seasons at a time. He would await the proper moment to ask - and then only ask what was needed. It was highly possible this stranger wouldn't know. He had been in ignorance so far.

But now for the introductions. Cross was given a name 'Taurig' and the sketch of a young, sober minded warrior. Sound familiar? Cross gave a slight dip of his head at the end of the self given description. "Something to be proud of." Indeed they were quite similar, but Cross was not the sort to say that out right. Besides, he knew nothing of the male but what he had heard and observed in the past minute. All the same he was curious. "Well I'm certain you can ascertain much from what I've said. I am one of a band of rogues who were once the ruling family of Glaciem." His tone was deep and serious, but then, that's how it normally was. He didn't add so much as the slightest tremor to his voice. This wasn't a pity party. He was just stating facts, "I am a Legacy - but a forgotten one, and perhaps that is alright. I am yet to make my place in the world, simply because the world seems too chaotic to be understood."




. . .