the hills have eyes.
08-27-2013, 04:45 AM
Watching his father die, knowing his mother too had been overthrown -- these events had changed him permanently. They had failed him indefinitely, and he had yet to find it in his heart to forgive either of them. And yet, there was one woman he would never forgive. It was only when he saw a sudden flash of orange fur that he realized that Jupiter had still been lurking nearby. Watching -- analyzing. Only briefly did he avert his gaze to her, watching her carefully as though sizing her up as she slipped from sight. "It was her," he rumbled softly as she left earshot, eyes falling back to the earth. Only briefly would he interrupt Cross, for the boy had begun to speak and he was intent on listening. Cross admitted that his mother had been angry with the Chief of former Glaciem for not going after Kaios. As if he could have slain him. He'd always thought of his father as unbreakable, as thoroughly invincible -- and while he'd been proved wrong, he knew just anyone couldn't have stopped his reign of terror. No, he'd been far too powerful. "Cross, born into a family of saints," he teased rather lightly, scoffing a bit. It was not hateful, but ... he knew the two had different backgrounds. Different families. He'd been born of blood, of violence; it seemed Cross had the kind of family who vowed to slay the kind of wolves that had been part of Amenti. Outcasts. Unwanted, depraved souls, the kind of creatures that wolves warned their children about. Part of him knew he was destined to the same kind of somber existence, but part of him wanted to fight against it so badly. Gaze readjusted, happy to watch Cross's own quiet expression as though it might provide him some kind of solace to his heartache. 'The world doesn't need creatures like that.' Once again he shrugged wide shoulders, considering. "Who decides what the world needs?" he mused aloud. It wasn't like there was a set of guidelines, of rules for living laid out somewhere. "All I know is that life's not fair. Not at all." He flopped down on his belly near Cross, wondering if they ought to choose a more suitable place for a talk. Not in a field that smelled of blood and rot, maybe? "It's just funny, I guess, that by killing my father, more wolves will have to die now." It was a vague comment, though not at all threatening ... though it had the hint of a warning, of a prophecy of sorts. He didn't mind sharing, for as far as he knew, Cross had nothing to do with the orange wolf and the black wolf that had both challenged his parents -- and he knew his mother would avenge Kaios's death. Not just by killing Jupiter, but by killing anyone and everyone that she loved. "Whether it's wrong or right, that doesn't matter. If he had lived, even if he had killed a few men, raped a few women..." his voice trailed off. It was a grim reality, but not one he either detested or enjoyed. "I don't know if doing the right thing is necessarily all that honorable if more wolves die in the end." It was a deep thought, and not one that he was sure Cross would understand ... or even care to consider with him. And though his voice was stable, a fire burned in his eyes silently. If he wanted to do anything in the world, it was to avenge his father, for he felt indebted to him. |