Never thought I'd find you here

The twilight did wonders for Alastor's complexion. The dusky light that bathed the world in its permanent shadows really helped to bring out the deep ultramarines and navy undertones of his inky black fur, and his eyes appeared more obsidian than jet black as they did in direct sunlight. He would be quite content for the world to remain this way permanently. Or he would be if the voice and wraith of his treacherous fiancée would just leave him the fuck alone. Along with this wonderland of shadow and light came a crossing over of the realms of living and dead, and with it, the ghosts of his past. Those he would be much more content leaving dead and buried in the past where they belonged. Trusting and blind faith and giving second chances had done nothing but leave him hurt and betrayed and confused. Fuck all that. Alastor had a damn good life now, and all he wanted from the past was to leave it where it belonged: squarely behind him.

Trudging on a patrol along the rocky coast where the land bridge leading to Alias Island—and by extension, his family—lay, Alastor kept dark eyes scouring the snowy terrain for signs of life: tracks, scents, any evidence someone had been poking their nose too close to his loved ones. He'd become fiercely protective of his family following the tousle with that pirate filth, and any who dared approach his kin would face swift and brutal death at his jaws and claws. Alastor Mendacium, family man... It was almost comical to think of where the demon wolf had become to where he was now. It brought his usual smile to his face.

Making his way up the hill of the coast toward the garden of rocks and stones, Alastor crested the hill and peered around the flatter terrain at the top. The world was quiet, dark, and cold... It was perfect. Large paws meandered between the rocks, nostrils flaring to catch any scents around him. The sound of crunching snow caught his attention, and the apex predator peered around some rocks to spot a small deer shifting the snow to graze at the grasses beneath. Hmm, well, it was far too little meat to be more than a light snack, but Alastor never passed up the chance to kill a helpless creature, and he wasn't about to start now. Flashing his teeth in a murderous grin, Alastor prepared to pounce, his muscles tensed and body coiled and ready to spring. The deer would be dead before it even know what hit it. Or maybe he'd just crush its legs and kill it slowly.

Before he could launch into his hunt, a gentle breeze rippled into his face—and Alastor caught a familiar scent on the wind. His tensed body froze, all of the energy sapped from him as his mind went blank. No... No, it can't be... Rising back to his paws, Alastor slowly rounded the rock and spotted the silver yearling perched atop another boulder near the deer. He was larger than Al remembered him, older too, but there was no denyhting the scent. Alastor stared at the young man for a long while, contemplating whether he was seeing ghosts again or if his mind had finally broken beyond salvaging. He stared at the ghost from his past, unable to move, unable to look away. No doubt he would be spotted if he didn't move or do something. Yet all Alastor could do was stare in stupefied disbelief. It just wasn't possible.


"Alastor"