The Prodigal Brother
04-07-2013, 04:05 AM
~*~ Gargoyle settled his haunches on the tundra, his yellow eyes, as bright as twin moons, focusing on his brother as the words began to trickle from his muzzle. Knowing the tendencies of the Clash bloodline, Gargoyle was prepared for anything from a rousing war campaign to a voyage across the great waters, to a journey across mountains! And he also knew the world; knew what a terribly twisted place most of it was. So he also prepared for a measure of sorrow. Seemed his preparations were not in vain. Rogue spun a fine story. Gargoyle listened with mute interest to the politics of the Blood Packs, then let his ears tip back at the news of the war. He twitched a brow at the Lesser pack's strange goodbye and naming of his brother, and then blinked once in surprise at the truth behind Rogue's bearing of the Chieftainship. However, after his departure from Glaciem - only a small count of months before Gargoyle's return - it seemed that his tale trailed away. These past years had no new epic to add to his account. He was a wanderer - a rogue - once again. Not for the first time did the back of Gargoyle's mind wonder if his mother had had some sort of future-sight when she'd named her offspring. Gargoyle was used to such things as blood and war and loss - though in his experience he'd rarely ever been on the receiving end - but what was hard to hear was the sound of his brother's voice. Rogue was broken. His words only barely veiled the turmoil that pricked at him. A low, thoughtful breath, escaped through Gargoyle's muzzle. It was not in the Chief to beg for Rogue to stay or cheer up. He was a male after all, and in the end, his only words were a quiet warning: "Beware brother. Such things as self-doubt and self-loathing turn all too quickly to self-pity, from which even strong wolves rarely free themselves. It will eat you from the inside out, unless you learn to accept your past as behind you and move on." These were not empty morals or recited lessons ... this was something Gargoyle had had to come to terms with himself. And only through great difficulty and time. The only major difference in this case was that Rogue was ashamed of the further good he was unable to do. Gargoyle was ashamed of the evil he had committed. For a long span of seconds, Gargoyle had a thought, a feeling, a desire really, to tell Rogue more about his dark days. Perhaps... perhaps he would understand - well not understand Gargoyle's actions in that time - but understand his actions now in fleeing from it and changing himself. But Gargoyle knew himself. He wanted this too badly. And for selfish reasons only; his mind wanted him to believe that if he were to confide his misdeeds to the heart of another it would exorcise him once and for all. But such was no the case. His demons were his own to battle. He had no right to burden another with a glimpse into the monster he once was. He shook himself from such thoughts. This was about Rogue after all! His long lost brother's homecoming! "Come! Your pain is something no wolf can truly fix - but perhaps you would allow us to help soothe it? If only for a short stay, it is my pleasure to welcome you into Glaciem. There are many lovely she-wolves who would wish to see you - Crusade and Arcane and Asheni among them, but you must meet Crusade adopted daughters too - Keki and Maka." Despite the heaviness that would probably forever claim at least some portion of their hearts, Gargoyle found a peace in his brother's presence. Then... almost as an afterthought of sorts, Gargoyle paused and added, "To love, is to risk loss, just as to live, is to risk death. But when it comes to the ones we care for and things we believe in, the risks are worth the taking." Perhaps Rogue would recognize the words as a favored saying of Crusade and of Clash before her. Often Gargoyle had found himself taking solace in their message. ~*~ ~Don't want to let you down, but I am H.e.l.l.b.o.u.n.d.~ |
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