FROM ASHES

Prisoner.


Being held captive was not something new to Bronze. He'd been born a prisoner, only leaving his tyrant father when his uncle had stolen him away in the night, bringing him to the safety of a strange pack in a strange land. Freedom was not something he had ever taken for granted; he had forever been thankful for his uncle's courage in rescuing him, in bringing him to safety and for allowing him to live a somewhat normal childhood.


It was all he could do to try to ensure that Steel would be given a similar life -- the fact that his son might grow up a prisoner was something that lay heavy on his heart.

Once, the over-taking of his pack would've angered him. Even just a few years ago, he would've quickly grown hateful at such a blatant disrespect for the kind wolves that once made up Sawtooth. But time had changed him, and he was far too tired to be angry. A slight limp was evident in his step as he rose, quietly making his way toward Jupiter's call for a meeting. There were no other wolves of the pack here, he noted, as his gaze swept over the few that had arrived. He would inhale sharply, and soon after a puff of white air would escape his flared nostrils. His age was obvious; the limp only accentuated the man's failing state. A slow nod would be offered to the orange-pelted female as he drew a bit closer.


The brute was silent for a long moment. What would become of his life here? There surely wasn't much left of it, and the same was to be said for his wife. His children, however, had so much future left ahead of them -- Ara had children now, and though they were not hers by blood, he considered them his grandchildren just the same. Slowly his jaws would part, weathered voice escaping as he slowly settled down on his hindquarters. "Jupiter," he would begin, his voice level, only a hit of sadness touching the bass tones. "My name is Bronze. I come to ask for my son's freedom." He would not fight for his own life, nor for his wife's; they had lived good lives and she would not take that away from them, even if they were no longer free. So long as they had one another, he would die content here, slave or otherwise. "Steel. He is just a boy, not yet two seasons old. He does not belong here," he would explain somberly. Perhaps Jupiter thought the rest of these wolves had done her wrong, for whatever reason, but Steel was as innocent as they came. "You can have me, and my wife -- though I am certain that we will serve little use to you -- but I beg for his release." He did not know whether Silent would consent to his decision to speak to this woman, but the thought of Steel spending even another day of his childhood here was painful for him. It was a shot in the dark at best, but one that he knew was worth taking.