Blast from the past

The rock garden, so very close to the place where New Ebony now resided. Rumors had spread to him when he ran this way, talk of the masks wolves calling this place their new home. He flinched at the thought of his homeland, dreams of the war raged behind his closed eyelids, forcing the male to stay awake most of the time. Sleep as an illusion to him, its darkness did not bless him with dreamless night-times. No, every time he closed his eyes he saw the blood shed, remembered the metallic tang of blood when he tore into those bastards throats. His auburn coat had been soaked in the blood of those who dared appose him, and still he had ran. After he had been attacked and those wolves took half of his sight, he knew what his options had been. He could stay and fight, trying to adapt to the loss of most of his sight in his left eye and most likely die. Or he could run, shame his family but make it out alive. He had taken the cowards way out instead of dying like a warrior. For two years he had hid himself away, until he found the lands of Alacrita. No longer could he ignore the pull he felt towards the rumored new home of Ebony. This is why he was making his way towards these lands, to see if one of his blood-sisters had once again claimed a throne. He knew that most of his own kin were probably dead, not many made it out alive. Sighing softly, he tasted the stranger on the wind. Auburn ears perked, his paws turning to see the masked boy sitting in the shade, avoiding the heat of the sun.

Fendar -- although grumpy -- was curious about this boy. He bore the markings of his kin, that mask and the splotches were a tell-tale sign of Xanilov blood. Had there been more of his blood brought into these lands? Or was he a bastard, a boy carrying the fathered blood of his own, but taking his mothers name as all of their kind did. The tall beast picked his way over to him, two-toned eyes alight on his form. "Greetings boy." He called, his low baritone sounding rather grumpy. "What is your calling?" Demanding was his tone, the lack of sleep making him like an angered bear. He had a very short fuse during this time, and couldn't do much to stop him. Going days without sleep was hard on his body, and even harder on his mind. He seemed to be in a daze most of the time, his world already foggy with the limited sight in his silver eye. He often closed it if he wanted a better look, his bronze eye was as clear as a crystal. But both were looking at the male before him, testing the air to see if he knew his smell. But no, it was new to him, he couldn't place it anywhere in his weary mind.