Placed before The Thread

Frosted air forced it's way into his lungs and stung his bi colored eyes. The Young Lord wrapped his excessively long tail twice around his neck so that it overlapped his bluing lips, hoping that his own exhaled air would be trapped around them in a microcosm of warmth. Yet even then the chill seeped in and his teeth began to chatter. The pup tensed his muscles, or lack of more exactly, bringing his limbs in closer, and bent his regalia to the oncoming wind. The loose snow from the ground became tiny missiles in the gust and he began to squint to retain any vision at all.

Now he was here, all alone with no one in sight as snow flakes started to fall from Heavens. Great. he sighed as he sat down on his haunches, snow melting underneath him and sending small shivers of cold down his small spine that, thankfully, remained unnoticed by the pup. He leaned his regalia backwards, watching the grey skies and the enormous flakes that fell down his face, covering his ebon eyelashes in white, acting like a veil in order to blur his vision. His jaws went wide open as a plush, coral tongue rolled out in order to gather a few snow flakes. Easier said than done. None fell on his tongue. Anger filled the young pup and his jaws snapped in mid air. Take that snow! he growled in his high-pitch tone, as he rose and began pounching around,snapping his tiny jaws at the falling snow.

Mordecai

Things had been quiet lately, peaceful, he assured himself, but a sense of foreboding always seemed to hang over him. He blamed his mother for it, for poisoning his mind, or perhaps cursing him with whatever demons had lingered after her coupling with his father. His mind wandered to how frail and weak she had looked and quickly pushed the thought away. He wouldn’t think about it. She had sealed her own fate. He trudged through the shrine, stopping once to watch the puffy flakes as they drifted from the sky, his eyes focusing on his nose as a single fleck came to rest on his snout. He sneezed and shook his head before carrying on. His ears lifted, catching the distinct sounds of a child at play and couldn’t help but smile. His own children were swiftly growing but where nowhere near old enough to leave his den or their mother’s side. He may not have had the best opinion of Hannibal or Thys, or really just Hannibal, but children were innocent, and these cubs had no say in their sire or dam. He watched the pup frolic for a time before moving closer, his head low and his eyes wide and welcoming. “A future infantry officer I see.” He said with a slight chuckle, the end of his tail raised in a slight curl. The boy was the same one he had noticed carried his mothers unnaturally long tail on the day of his birth. He had coiled the appendage around his neck in a way that Tyranis had to admit was resourceful. Distantly he played with the idea of mimicking the concept with a fox pelt to keep his neck and nose warm. "Talk"  Thought "You"

Placed before The Thread

Snow danced in the light, a choreographed ballet conducted by the gentle wind. As the Young Lord watched his eyes grew that tiny bit wider, open and filled with innocence when he saw that his home had become as a fresh new page awaiting his playful feet and paws but these damned snow flakes wont win. He lounged forth and right with his tiny jaws in order to catch them. Within moments his bat-like ears, too big for his own tiny crown, flickered announcing the sound of someone else. His senses were tickling and his parents always told him to watch his surroundings. Oops. He stoped in his activity with a last pounce forward and as soon as his paws met the soft snow he turned on his heels to gaze upon the welcoming gaze of a man. He had seen him before a couple of times but never had he the opportunity to exchange words, he assumed because the man was important. He was their Leader or something because he knew that Father worked for someone.

Snow rests upon the ground as if it were a feather cushion, soft and warm. It covered the rich, deep wood in perfect white. The snow was a gift-wrap only spring will open, revealing the engrained beauty that lives safely below, protected these long winter months. However, the young Lord received a gift of his own today. He learnt something new. What is that? his small regalia tilted in confusion as he pondered the words, Infantry Officer?

Mordecai

“It’s a rank for warriors in this pack.” He explained calmly. “Your pack.” He was after all a member and had more of a right to these lands than others as the soil he was born on. “Unless you’d rather spring on food for your sisters.” He added. “Then you’d be a game officer.” “Right now you’re a youngling, but when you’re big and strong you’ll be able to hold a rank. Maybe even my rank.” He added teasingly. He supposed anything was possible, and longing after Bass’s rank in Abaven had been the prelude to a life fit for leadership. He would never swear loyalty to Bass again, assuming the old man was even still alive, but perhaps this child would grow to love him the way he had once loved the white male. "Talk"  Thought "You"

The young pup watched in awe as words escaped the Leader jaws, he spoke of worriors and his gaze fell on the ground, tiny paw played with the snow, I could never be a worrior, I am too small. he offered in his high tones, Even my parents are worried though they won't say it. she chuckled to himself, the kind of chuckle that came from false humor drenched in self-pity.

At his next words his eyes shoot towards the man once again. You think someone as small as me can lead? he questioned, gaze locked on him even though he had to lean his regalia backwards a bit to catch th full glimpse of the male. Still there was a question that bothered him, in the back of his mind and maybe, just maybe he hold the answer to it. What does Father and Mother do?

Mordecai

“Well that’s not true.” He said resolutely, laying down on the snow to get closer to his line of sight. “My brother isn’t that large and he’s the greatest hunter to ever live.” He said with a soft smile.“Sometimes being smaller is more of an advantage than a disadvantage.” He explained then paused mentally. He had said something similar to Rain once, before he realized the boy had been actively making an excuse not to fight or hunt rather than lamenting his small stature. He had never known a small wolf to lead but held back from saying so if only to keep the boy’s spirits up. He balked at his next question however , biting back the instinct to spit his dislike of both the boy’s parents to his captive audience. He reminded himself the boy was innocent, and his parents had at least been more loyal to him than the woman the king himself had bedded. “Your father is my taskmaster. He helps me find people to act as servants for the higher ranking members. Like that brown girl he keeps with him.” He had forgotten the girl’s name and was unsure if either she or Hannibal had ever given it. “Your mother helps me learn about the other packs and people. She has to be very smart and very cunning, because other wolves can be unpredictable." It was more credit than he had wanted to give to either of them but he refused to slander the parents of a child. "Talk"  Thought "You"

Ansel perked up the moment the male attention became focused on him alone, he lowered his stance and as he did so the young Lord regalia followed. He backed away quietly and decided to lay down as well, mimicking the adult. Between his sensitive eyes and weak immune system he was often prohibited from leaving the den by Mother. Opportunities like this one seldom reared its head, and Mordecai was more than eager to take this one. He was not much for adult discussions, they were filled with innuendo and politics however this was an opportunity to lean more about his parents.

The male spoke of Father, Taskmaster was his rank and seems that he brought their house slave himself. His dual colored lenses widen for a mere moment in awe, Father was a Master. The next words were address to Mother; intelligence and cunning. Of course. His eyes often followed her hips and the trail that they left when they were together. Mordecai wasn't a dull boy, he was more than aware of the activities that occurred within his parents even though he did not let it show that often. Despite the way Mother would tempt men and women alike, she was the one that gave in so easily to desire. At least in Mordecai's opinion. Perhaps she was a brothel in her past life. He shrugged his thoughts away quickly as the man finished his speech. I like plants. Is there anything I can do with that?

Mordecai

“A few things.” He answered pleasantly. “Most would say healing, but plants can have many uses. They can even be used to kill .“ He said emphatically his eyes widening momentarily before the settled into their calm gaze. “My mother was a healer actually.” He said wistfully then felt a pang of agony in his chest that told him the subject was one he needed to avoid. He rose suddenly and stepped away only to look over his shoulder, gesturing the boy to follow. “Whatever you choose, when you’re a year old you’ll be sworn in to Erovrare, bound to these lands as the highlord is bound to you.” He explained, walking the boy toward the glowing shrine and the towering stones surrounding it. "Talk"  Thought "You"

The child was untouched by reality. What was a truth was a lie, and what a lie was a truth. What wasn't there was and what was there wasn't. Delusions ensnared his perception. However, his eyes widdened the moment the man mention the dulcet word. Kill. he tasted the word on his tongue and he was hooked to its flavour. How could he not think of such possibility? It was brilliant! Plants being used for murder, extracting their sweet poison. Oh, this was a whole new field or the young Lord, a whole new area to reconsider and sooner, rather than later, a smirk spread across the young lad boyish features as he got lost in his own mind palace.

He came back to reality and the conversation at hand when the man brought up his yearling celebrations that were far beyond himself. Mother mentioned such festivities. But what if I do no like them?

Mordecai

He paused momentarily. Of course. Hannibal who toted how much he loved Erövare was already turning his children against the pack’s foundation. “Well, what isn’t there to like about festivals?” He asked, keeping his anger at Hannibal from his tone. The child after all had done nothing wrong, he had simply been saddled with poor parents. “There’s hunting, dancing, and of course spars.” He said with a slight grin. “I raised the pack too late to hold them this year but next Autumn there will be the Moose Gauntlet, where Erövrare’s strongest fighters compete against each other for first prize and the title of champion. Best of all, by next Autumn you’ll be big and strong enough to enter.” He explained, his tail waving slightly as he attempted to impress the boy. “…Or…If you prefer, during the Summer we have the Summer fox chase, where the greatest hunters in the pack hunt for a special fox that I select myself. There is also a prize for whomever catches the fox first, and of course the title of Summer Champion.” He explained, then looked down at the boy, waiting for his reaction, would he be impressed? Or had the boy’s parents already done their work on him and turned him against Erövrare entirely? Speech Thought

The young pup tilted his regalia towards his right, bi colored gaze pondering the King question for a moment before he parted his lips, Aren't festivities for grown ups? his boyish tones rose in question. Mother told him not to answer a question with another question but he judged that the male question was more rethorical than his own.

Dancing? He never seen other lupines dance before. His mind raced over this parents first, he had never seen them dance before, nor had he witnessed other adults doing any of the three actions the King mentioned. It was not long before his mind raced to Tythe and of course the other pup would endeavour in such trivial activities but he found all of them appalling. Are there any festivals for killing? high pitched tone mused the question, his auditory system perked at the words and if that was not a sign of excitement than the tip of his tail lazily wagging left and right was a definite sign. I could catch a fox. he puffed his tiny chest forward and rose his chin in order to display more of his confidence.

Mordecai

“Nonsense, in fact in my father’s pack there were festivals specifically for children.” He said with a kind grin. He remembered that day well; blindfolding a then young Astraios and leading him to the small island where the festivities were to occur. That had been just before his father’s disappearance, just before everything in his life had taken a turn for the worse. “Maybe I should have a festival like that too. What do you think?” He asked, smiling proudly down at the child that wasn’t even his. He saw great things in the boy, and with Erövrare’s structure it wasn’t impossible for him to take on leadership, if Astraios selected him…Or if he challenged Astraios for the title. He put the thought aside for now, children needed encouragement and he wasn’t about to bring the boy down so soon. “If you had to make a festival of your very own, just for pups, what would you want it to be like?” "Talk"  Thought "You"

As soon as his auditory system caught the words of the male his elongated tail began to wag slowly. His mind roamed over the activities children festivities could have, the possibilities were endless! Perhaps a fox could be too difficult for him due to his tail, he will end up tripping all over the place and make a fool of himself. He quickly shook that idea out of his head. Now a hen, a hen he could handle.

A festival about killing? His tail crashed left and right violently, now that was more up his aisle. His tail only paused for a moment upon the male question before it began to wag again. Mud fights! joyous sonnated came forth and, confident and comofrtable around the male, he jumped forward, attempting to catch an imaginary opponent with his teacup paws. And chickens. he added, his regalia falling backwards, displaying a toothy grin towards the male.

Mordecai