Who Will Falter, Who Will Conquer

Relm could barely meet and hold his gaze once he entered her den, looking like she was caught between wanting to fight with him and wanting to shrink away from his harsh gaze. It took her a moment, but eventually the pink and ebony fae spoke, offering him a simple apology, her voice choked and restrained from the struggle she faced. Alastor's leer narrowed, pointed gaze searing into her own. Unlike her, he did not look away, nor did he balk at the confrontation. Alastor had spent his whole life fighting it felt like. Fighting his sociopathic father, fighting the deranged demons in his head, fighting for Lurid, fighting for Manea, fighting for his family. What was one more battle to a wolf who only knew fighting? "What are you sorry for?" he asked through growled tones, still standing like a guard at her door, neither relaxing nor turning to abandon her. "Are you sorry for forcing me to abandon you and our children? Are you sorry for turning your back on me? Are you sorry for getting Irilyth involved? Are you sorry we ever got involved together at all? Or maybe you're sorry that you lost the pups?" There were many different connotations those two words could have meant. What was Relm truly sorry for?

Alastor scoffed and turned his gaze from Relm with a disdainful shake of his head. It was all so ironic... the only thing in his life Alastor had ever truly felt he'd done right was be a father, raise children he could be proud of. Now even that had been tarnished, sullied by the dark memories of what had transpired. "Do you think this is a game? Do you think this is fun?" hissed the dire wolf through clenched fangs. "Did you just not believe that I actually cared for you that you sent me off expecting me to be okay with it? Like being spurned from you and our dying children was something that meant nothing to me?" How little did Relm actually know about him? How cold did she think he was? It was almost an insult in itself to the Mendacium man.

"Alastor"