Because Friday is black for me
I've learned to slam on the break before I even turn the key, before I make the mistake, before I lead with the worst of me.
Torin felt he couldn't help but try and search the far ends of the earth for his missing mate and child. It drew him away from the packlands more and more lately, and he'd ranged pretty far, but there were still places close to home that he hadn't checked yet, and this was one place.
"Silent treatment" & Deep thoughts |
Image by Lynx! |
Regulus Anatolii Adravendi |
While he tended to stick to Valhalla most of the time, he did venture out now and then to scout, stretch his aging muscles and joints, and gain a breather.
He’d made his way to the Dancefloor this time, mostly wandering where his paws took him, occasionally pausing to traverse a more precarious point in his pathway before continuing on. He shouldn’t let himself think. Grieve, yes, but if he thought of all that he’d lost, he knew he’d grow bitter with it all.
There was still so much to live for, a future he wanted to see before he could no longer hold on to the living realm. He was determined to see it through.
His absent gaze fell upon a hunched form ahead and, hearing the hitch in the wolf’s breathing, he padded slowly forward, ears perking as he caught the familiarity in the scent of the man. Family. His eyes softened, concern prickling his coat as he called out gently, “Are you alright?”
There was no blood scent, but the man was clearly hurting.
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I've learned to slam on the break before I even turn the key, before I make the mistake, before I lead with the worst of me.
A vaugly familiar scent reached the man and Torin took a deep breath trying to squash his outburst. A voice reached him and Torin turned to look and saw- His Uncle? Torin blinked for a moment, he'd only met the giant red man once that he could remember. It took a moment for the words the man had asked him a question.
"Silent treatment" & Deep thoughts |
Image by Lynx! |
Regulus Anatolii Adravendi |
The younger man visibly forced himself into composure as he turned to look at the former Archangel. After a moment, he admitted that he wasn’t alright, then queried as to regulus’ identity.
The older man smiled gently, nodding. “That I am…. If you need an ear, I’m open. As any uncle should be, even if it is a bit belated…”
A regretful sigh hissed from his jaws as he lowered his haunches to the ground, absently making a note to see what Paladin had for aging joints. Fathomless sapphire eyes studied the man before him, spotting similarities between the male and Faite. Both blue and gold ringed this younger man’s pupils, though Faite had been Gold on one side, blue on the other.
The dove grey was much lighter than Faite. The father, maybe? He’d never met the man who’d gotten with his middle litter-sister. Just as he’d never met Elias, although he wished dearly that he had… with his teeth buried in the bastard’s throat, or ripping off his genitals. Or both. Both would have been good.
Gently he asked, “Is everything alright in Lirim?”
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I've learned to slam on the break before I even turn the key, before I make the mistake, before I lead with the worst of me.
His uncle confirmed his identity and Torin felt like some amount of weight had been lifted, he'd been carrying the grief of losing his mother for years, with no real chance for catharsis, but now, maybe, just maybe he'd finally be able to face that pain.
"Silent treatment" & Deep thoughts |
Image by Lynx! |
Regulus Anatolii Adravendi |
Regulus smiled gently as Torin spoke, nodding. “Aurielle mentioned you had children. Congratulations.”
But as Torin went on, the smile faded to a look of sad understanding. He knew the struggle between love and responsibility. Softly he said, “I’ve been there. It hurts. I had to run Celestial, now called Valhalla, while wondering where my mate and son went. And then the news came. Our Nomad allies had seen her and Aramis. It seems your Aunt-In-Law had taken Aramis out on a trip just beyond the pack wall for a lesson on herbs in that area… and a band of slavers captured them.”
The old anger… the old guilt. His teeth clicked softly, grinding together. “We were very lucky, and still are, to have the Nomads allied with us. There are many out there that you and I are related to through my mother and her mother. Still, I had to maintain my duties in the pack, until Aurielle was old enough to take over. When that time came, I went and got my wife and son. I and the Nomads wiped out that band to the man. The slaves were taken into the Nomads’ care. Hopefully they’ve found their strength by now, made new lives.”
He trailed off, eyes dropping to the ground as his ears fell back. “I never truly got Solveiga back. There was hope for a while, on the way home… But a depression struck her. And she never truly came back from it. She died this Spring. Aramis has the same depressive illness… but he snapped out of it… yet he’s missing now, again. Last we saw him he said he was going to the Nomads to find a cure… but they haven’t seen him.”
He blew out a sigh. “I must keep hope. I know he isn’t dead. There’s a knowing when you lose someone you love… a sibling, a mate, a child, a parent… It’s like a colored light goes out in your heart. A loss of something that once was there. A sixth sense, I suppose. I can only hope he’s found love, made a family. That maybe I’ll see him again before I die.”
He shifted, offering a shoulder, a hug even, if his nephew was open to it. He grieved that his nephew had to know such a pain in his heart. He’d at least been able to say goodbye to his own parents, but Faite, and Zuriel…
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I've learned to slam on the break before I even turn the key, before I make the mistake, before I lead with the worst of me.
He managed a soft smile when his uncle congratulated him. He muttered some thanks, dropping his head to hide the slight embarrassment that was flooding his face with heat. He listened, feeling comfort in their shared pain. He had to hope they'd return to him, but some part of him also couldn't help but feel that it was unlikely... he'd always chased women away, his own mother hadn't even stayed.
"Silent treatment" & Deep thoughts |
Image by Lynx! |