the hills have eyes.

. . .



Cross?s attempt at agrim smile in the face of deep subjects was shortlived. As Basilisk started speaking again, the white and black youth returned to his normal, sober expression ? eyes still as searching and quiet as ever. Cross had seen horrible, sudden, bloody death. He?d heard pleading screams turn to silence and it had haunted the shattered remains of his childhood. But he hadn?t seen a parent ? or any a family member die. And for that he was grateful. ?Course with that first break into reality came the knowledge that eventually he very well could. Maybe they would be taken by age, maybe by sickness, maybe by nature ? all of which seemed preferable to being murdered by another wolf.

Cross could empathize greatly with the other male, and he demonstrated it through his listening body language, and yet? at the same time he could feel little sorrow for Kaios himself. Basilisk?s words ? so haunting and sincere ? were enough to make the young avenger take pause, though.

?I don?t know,? he murmured at last. ?I mean? I?m from a family of warriors who sought to defend those who couldn?t defend themselves from wolves who raped and killed. I remember my mother being angered with the Chief of our pack for the very fact that he did not go after Kaios when we learned he?d abused my sister.? There wasn?t anything accusing in the lad?s voice, just stating a fact. If fate had been twisted ever so slightly? Gargoyle might?ve been the one to kill Kaios and these two boys, instead of playing ?king of the world? and baring their souls, would?ve been at eachother?s throats for the sake of their respective families. Cross caught onto that fact, and however uncomfortable it might have made them, he was able to keep his gaze steady on the other other youth. ?I didn?t know your father. I can?t speak about him personally, but I?ve seen what a wolf can do when he decides he doesn?t care who he hurts or what he does so long as he gets his fix of blood. The world doesn?t need creatures like that.? And yet?. ?And yet, you?re right too. I don?t know if killing someone fixes anything. It just causes more pain. And after all ? I?m a descendant of a wolf who?d once held the title of a murderer ? until he met my grandmother and she gave him the strength to change his world around.?

His thoughts were moving at the same pace as his words. What if even the worst of wolves had some spark buried deep down? He didn?t know. His mother had told the story of the demon wolf Xy who had raped Crusade?s friend, attacked her pack, and finally ? even after she had saved his life once- killed her first daughter. Animi. The wolf that would?ve been Cross?s sister. Years later Crusade had finally confronted Xy. She lost an eye and he lost his head, and she had never been anything but grimly proud of the moment. But then at the same time?those horrible, horrible cries. Cross had seen the lights go out of the eyes of the murdererous rogue known as Sixx. He had been the brother to Cross?s packmate?s brother, Awaken. And ?brother? was exactly the word that Sixx had screamed and prayed before Awaken had impaled him on the broken shard of a pine branch.

Cross couldn?t help but sit on the fence, unable to pick a side. He looked bleakly into Basilisk?s features, wondering at what the other youth was thinking. Probably he was just as in the dark.






. . .