Burn the land and Boil the Sea; but you can't take the sky from me It takes a good man to know when he's beaten, so the saying goes, but then wasn't there also something about never giving up? Lately the wolf had been through alot. Alot alot. Intruders on his borders. Killing a rogue. Having one of his packmates blinded. Then a challenge and a hairline defeat. A migration. Another challenge. Another migration. Gargoyle was begining to feel like stability was more a state of mind than a set of conditions. But then again, ever since moving off into a band of rogues, there had been less problems. They could go where they pleased, they could hunt prey anywhere, they had more shelters, and they didn't draw attention to themselves. Save for when pups were on the way, they could pick up and move at a moments notice. It was a different lifestyle, but it could be made to work quite well. -A fact that soothed the burn Gargoyle couldn't help but feel. It was that nagging voice in the back of his mind, telling him that he'd been a much stronger wolf once. Back in the dark days. It was a burden -knowing that his worst side was his strongest- but it was one that he ought to be used to carrying by now. When he was with his family it was easy. One glance at his children playing or his wife relaxing with that swollen belly of hers and he was at peace... but when he was on his own... The beast let a growl grumble in the back of his throat. Today his paws had a point to their pacing, however; he wasn't just wandering aimlessly at the mercy of his thoughts. He was headed due south. Straight south. He was going to Seracia. Crusade had been reminding him for some time that they were at fault for falling out of communication with the southern pack. She really seemed to like that Gerhardt fellow, and she felt concerned about the pack by the beachside. Gargoyle, busy with the move and two pregnant packmates was all for waiting until Crusade's leg had healed and she could go, but when he'd suggested that, his elder sister had fixed him with a very calm, very serene look. "That might take a while," she'd said. So here was Gargoyle, stepping up to the border of the allies who'd he'd fallen out of contact with just when he could've used their help the most. Time to see where things stood, and perhaps meet this grand King Gerhardt for himself. The beast's tawny chest filled with the sweet southern air, his skull tilted back til it was straight as a tree, and all at once the sky was filled with a deafening howl. GARGOYLE 41 inches of doberman & timber wolf been just about everything but a saint

To say that he carried himself with more pride than before would be an understatement, but such was the way of the recently crowned King. He was proud not only for his newfound power, but for his newfound role as expectant father. So much authority had been placed upon him, and rather than to shirk this responsibility as the once-flighty prince might've done, he accepted it and intended to take it in stride. So far things had been simple enough, save for a few instances that he'd had to deal with. Overall though, his life was better than it ever had been. He worried about his father, but he knew that Gerhardt needed time on his own to get his head on straight and process the events that had occurred. Maverick had to admit that it deeply affected him - the events that transpired - but he was trying to keep them in the back of his mind rather than in the front where they might dampen his mood. Seracia had no room for a despondent and depressed King, which was precisely why he had been promoted so swiftly. His father would be taking this rough for a while, and it was Maverick's job to keep it together. A deafening howl painted the air of Seracia an interesting hue. The King froze in his tracks, a forepaw suspended in air as his head raised and his nostrils flared. The caller was too far off to give off a scent, but his howl was suspiciously familiar. The russet monarch picked up his pace again, adjusting his pathway to lead him to the border where the sounder stood. As he traveled he racked his brain, interested in just who it was that sounded so eerily familiar. As he neared, a smile traveled across his lips, for a mountain rose up in front of him in a place where ordinarily land was flat. Gargoyle, the King of Glaciem was at his borders. The mountain had come to Seracia. Welcome, welcome Gargoyle! His tone was not unlike his father's when greeting a friend. The notes were chipper and genuinely glad in nature. The smile remained on his lips as he paused his pacing a few yards in front of the much larger male. Please, enter my Kingdom. A note of pride rang out in his lyrics, emphasizing his ownership of the land that he could now proudly call his. He wondered if Glaciem knew of the change in leadership, though he doubted they would given that the two packs had not gathered together in some time. It was a shame really, that their closest allies were so far from their hearts as of late. Speech,

Burn the land and Boil the Sea; but you can't take the sky from me Gargoyle was not kept waiting long. A touch of red-ginger fur was seen through the plant life. At the same time, scent and sight came together to reveal Maverick - the boy who would be king. Gargoyle almost grinned. The young princling had come to Glaciem what seemed like ages ago, in the company of an adviser. They hadn't staid long of course, but Gargoyle had taken a liking to the lad, and the other way around. The chief had a soft spot for youth and Maverick of then had been a perfect picture of excitment and innocence and good will. It was hard for the behemoth not to like him. That had been a long time ago, however, and Gargoyle knew only too well how things could change. How light hearted young boys could become men burdened with darkness of their own. As far as first impressions went however, it looked like Gargoyle had little to worry about. The lime eyes were bright and sincere as Maverick wished him welcome. The eyes were indeed the same, but the boy had gotten bigger and filled out. Beyond that, the presence of the red wolf had increased. He held himself, well, like a full Alpha. The the invitation, Gargoyle stepped past the scent markers and came up along side Maverick to look him over. "Your kingdom?" he repeated in a voice that in any other wolf would've been tinted with good-natured surprise. "My how times do change us." He looked the boy up and down. Scratch that. The man. It made perfect sense. Maverick looked like an Alpha. Pulled off the whole thing quite well actually. And Gargoyle would be lying to himself if he said that the realization didn't come with a little unexpected relief. This meant that he wouldn't be talking about his packs activities with a total stranger. He'd be dealing with someone he knew -and who his packmate Insomnia had loved like a son. "It's good to see you're well," the grey-black beast rumbled out. "I wonder if the new alpha can spare a bit of time to speak. Much has passed since we last met and as our allies you've a right to know." Despite the humility in the words, there was a great deal of the same unconscious pride in Gargoyle's bearing. No matter the new scars that covered his neck and leg, there was still enough power in his muscles to rival that of a black bear's. It wouldn't be like that forever, of course, but for now, he still bore himself like a King. Packland or not, he still guided and ruled over a family and packmates who depended on him. He still had to stand strong. And it was precisely about that he intended to talk. GARGOYLE 41 inches of doberman & timber wolf been just about everything but a saint

Despite the confidence that came with being crowned King of a thriving land like Seracia, he still found himself very much in awe of Gargoyle. The man was practically a behemoth, and in Maverick's eyes he was positively a mountain! Of course he had done his best not to mention the nickname he had given Gargoyle in his head, though it was bound to slip out if he wasn't careful. His tail danced happily between his hocks, pleased to have a visitor from another pack. Of course he assumed that the Chief had come to inform him of something, but whatever that something was.. Maverick had no clue. Admittedly the Prince had been distracted lately, and had not bothered to do much on the diplomatic side of things - which was something he would have to change in the near future. His allies needed to be informed of the changes in leadership, as well as other events that had come to pass. It seemed this would be a good time to put on the hat of diplomacy and get a few things sorted out. As was expected, Gargoyle seemed to be pleasantly surprised when he caught onto Maverick's slip of the tongue about ownership of the Kingdom. A nod was given, reassuring the larger man that he had heard correctly. The King stood proudly, though not so much as to appear an arrogant specimen. Though pride had come with the position, it had not delved into him so deeply as to affect his entire personality. Likewise, the monarch remarked. Admittedly, he had wondered from time to time of the fate of Glaciem and it's Chief. Gargoyle - in fact - wasn't going to get any younger. My time is yours as you see fit, friend. You must be tired after your journey, let us take a stroll to the lake to recline and relax. The lake perhaps was his most frequented haunt, especially with summer nipping at the fringes of the Range. The grass was browning ever so slightly where it stood under direct sunlight, and each day the afternoon hours grew warmer and warmer. The King led the way, taking up a moderate pace that wouldn't tire out his guest if he chose to match the speed. Head was tilted to the side to keep an eye on Gargoyle in case he began speaking right away. Maverick knew this land better than his own face, and could navigate it even if he were blind. As they paced, he waited eagerly for the news the Glaciem Chief had come so far to give him. Speech,

Burn the land and Boil the Sea; but you can't take the sky from me To the new King's invitation, Gargoyle could give a bow of his head and graciously accept. He wasn't about to try to appear more the warrior by refusing so generous an offer of rest. Besides, it was no park stroll to get from the Soul Sand Cove in the North all the way to Seracia - and at a sharp pace too. "Much obliged," came the northern beast's reply, and he fell readily into step alongside Maverick. He made sure to let the boy-that is- the other male, have a bit of a lead. Gargoyle meanwhile took it easy and enjoyed the sights around him. How long had it been since he'd been this far south? How long had it been since he'd spent any time away from the pack at all? Ages. Practically ages. He loved his packmates and prefered to be with them, but he couldn't deny that it was nice here. Not to mention toasty. He was lucky he'd just shed his winter coat or he would've been panting like an old porch hound. As it was, he was able to take in big lungfulls of the lovely air, and stare up at all the trees which were nowhere to be found in the Northern reaches. Lovely... But smelling the roses couldn't last forever. After a bit of walking, Gargoyle's drawl-like rumblings broke the silence. "The thing is, you'll have to reevaluate whether or not you wish us as allies. After all, I no longer lead what post would call a pack." How's that for an opening sentence? "I am no longer Chief of Glaciem." As he walked he stretched his neck out a bit, and let his left foreleg take the lead in his stride. Fur had mostly grown back by now but it was a slightly lighter shade - making it possible to see just how huge had been the wounds on his neck and throat and inner left leg. "I was challenged, and I lost." He didn't elaborate or make excuses. It was the last thing any Alpha ever wanted to say. In fact, most never lived to say it - they chose death at the hands of their challenger or at the elements rather than continue on with life in defeat. For someone like Gargoyle,well, it didn't take much imagination to wonder how heavy and terrible it had been to carry a burden like that, but the male's eyes seemed unable to show pain. "The challenger and her mate were Cairo-spawn," he murmured, and there was just enough rumble to hint to a lurking growl. "But they recieved nothing but an empty shell. All the pack traveled south with me and for a time we claimed Tortuga - which had been dispersed. But their choice of homeland is poor. My family has gone through one volcanic eruption and no one wants to see a second." Certainly him least of all. "-so we left. Since then we have become rogues. Some of us have wandered off to other lands, but for the most part, we remain a traveling band, and I remain a chief of sorts." He spoke in part because Maverick was a friend and because he wished to inform him, but also because there was a diplomatic side to all of it. "We have little to offer into any alliance now. Though coming litters of pups keep our numbers strong, we have no set territory and no plans of warfare or control." He shrugged a pair of massive shoulders. "But even if a true alliance cannot be maintained, you should may count the 'Snow Rogues' among the friends of your reign." GARGOYLE 41 inches of doberman & timber wolf been just about everything but a saint

The King was quite eager to see what the chief had to say, but as they began walking things were quiet for a while. Maverick assumed that the man was thinking, processing his thoughts into diplomatic speech. It was something he was trained to do, and he assumed no less of Gargoyle. Most leaders were groomed in the art of fine speech. He recalled, with curiosity, that Gargoyle had never graced these lands before, it had always been Crusade who had handled diplomacy with the Kingdom. Maverick slowed his pace ever so slightly, noting that the man seemed to be taking in the sights in earnest. A smile crossed his lips as a surge of pride swelled in his chest. His Kingdom was truly beautiful, even in the oncoming heat of Summer. When Gargoyle did speak up, he began with the climax of his story, before giving the background information. It took the young King aback slightly, but he was almost glad for the brutal honesty of the mountain. It was a welcome relief. So, Gargoyle was no longer leader of Glaciem. Had someone else been handed the throne as he had? Or worse, had the mountain somehow been defeated? Question asked, and answered. Gargoyle had been overthrown. How painful that must have been to admit. An ear laid back in alarm as green eyes glanced over the man, noting now what he'd missed before. Gargoyle's wounds were still visible, though fur was beginning to grow over them to shield them from the casual glance. Gargoyle went on before Maverick found the words to say, mentioning that the challengers were both of Cairo's blood. A shock ran through him, icy and cold. His bottom jaw unhinged and dropped an inch. His wife was of Cairo's blood. Did she know of this? Had she hidden this from him? Gargoyle continued, though some of his words were drowned out by the thoughts rattling around in the young King's mind. The gist of it was that the pack had severed ties with the new leaders and were now a rogue band - vagabonds. They had nothing to offer alliance-wise, but would remain a friend of the Kingdom while he was King. My father forged the bond between us, and I would be a fool to sever it even in the loss of your realm. The Snow Rogues remain a friend to Seracia, and should you need anything - shelter, healers, warriors, you need only ask and it will be given. The thought of Gargoyle leading a rouge band worried him, but the King didn't let on about this worry just yet. Glaciem was a strong pack, and they could survive anything if need be. He only hated that their young would be in danger and trepidation. The land of the rogues was an untamed wilderness. The Snow Rogues would have to be constantly and consistently vigilant to keep from losing some of their numbers. Even Seracia was not totally safe, as evidenced by Reficul's untimely death. He found that in his talking and thinking, he had stopped altogether. The lake was only a short walk away, and so he picked up his pace once more, now finding that he needed a drink. His tongue had grown dry and leathery - perhaps partly because of the heat, but mostly in part of the news he'd just heard. Speech,

Burn the land and Boil the Sea; but you can't take the sky from me Gargoyle never spoke for reaction's sake. During his speech, his eyes were only on the red wolf occasionally, mostly their lifeless golden depths were set upon the ground to the road ahead. 'Lost in thought' wasn't the right word to describe it. Gargoyle knew his way around his better thoughts by now. What he had no control over he stuffed away and focused only upon what he needed to get his family through the day. It wasn't glamorous. It wasn't regal. But it was what it meant to be a leader in troubled times. Times changed. Winter to spring. Spring to summer. Things got better. Despite all the chaos, Awaken and Mercianne had found time for romance and the two lovebirds were to be expecting a litter soon. Awaken was Gargoyle's, well, friend, but much more intricate than that. They were equals in many ways, including the violence in their pasts, but to Gargoyle, Awaken would always be the 'Rookie' he had to keep an eye on. The brilliant idiot who'd earned his place by shedding blood in defense of the pack. It was nice to see that he was finding his own happy ending. And meanwhile, Gargoyle and Ocena would soon be having their second litter. Gargoyle was going to be a father again. What a blessing. It was a rare side of him that he showed around Ocena and his young children; some of the Gargoyle that once was, all those years ago before his been left for dead, loosing his family, and then loosing his way. But good has a way of coming out of bad, and this recent turn of events had been no exception to the rule. Maverick's answer came, generous and thoughtful. Gargoyle was thankful, but he was impressed to. Seemed to him that the male had the makings of a great King. And he was curious about what set of circumstances had lead to this change of power, but that was a question to ask later. First, it befitted Gargoyle to make some show of manners, even if the offer was well beyond anything they needed at the time. He dipped his blackened skull once more, and for a moment his eyes caught the light and glittered distantly with gratitude. "Many thanks, young king," said the brute. "But for the moment a drink of your lake water and the benefit of your company is all I could ask for." The halt that had come to Maverick's step was remedied and Gargoyle followed him to the blue expanse of the lake side. He walked until his tawny paws found coolness in the water. If time permit, he'd have to end up taking a swim. For a such a big creature he was quite adept at moving about in the water. Size didn't matter as much there and for a behemoth like him, the water was a natural ally in the summer. He only wished his original swimming lessons had been the more pleasant, carefree sort, instead of training exercises to catch watersnakes. Didn't seem to be any of those pretties about today. Perhaps it was too hot for them too. The northern beast brought his muzzle to the shimmering surface, catching a glimpse at a monstrous grey-black reflection a moment before his lapping disturbed the water. He knew better than to gorge himself on the liquid, so he took his time and straightened up. A pink tongue flicked over his jaws, catching the stray droplets. His mind was still on current affairs. He was a quiet sort, and it was no strange thing for him to speak, take a pause and then pick up right where he'd left off. "It's actually been easier since the move. We have all the protection of a pack, but without the constrictions of boundaries, or the target on our backs for ambitious idiots or loners seeking their fix of wolfblood." He shook his head sternly. "Things are quiet now, but we had to kill two rogues this past season. Well, three if you count the one I took over the waterfall." That had been the one who started everything. Creedance Voltaire, the wolf who had slaughted Asheni. Gargoyle and he had had quite the fight and taken quite the fall, but if Gargoyle had made it out of the river alive... it was just possible that the murderous brat had as well. Gargoyle didn't like to have to kill anything. Well that was actually a half truth. The reason the sane part of his brain didn't like it was because he enjoyed it all too much. Every true warrior lives for the rush of blood in their ears and the growls and the swings and the dance of fangs and fur, but Gargoyle... he walked a thin line. Always had. But in the end it didn't matter so much as long as he got the job done and there was one less villain to endanger those he swore to protect. "But enough about me," he said with raise of his paw that flicked a fine spray of lake water about. "It seems that much has occurred in the southern kingdom as well." It was an open invitation for Maverick to talk. Gargoyle was genuinely curious about the pack here, and though he'd done his best to restrain that while the more grave matters were put on the table, he could let a bit of that show now. Crusade had gotten to have a week long vacation here, and then later come back for a bull fight. At the very least Gargoyle desired a swim in the lake and a talk with an old friend. GARGOYLE 41 inches of doberman & timber wolf been just about everything but a saint

The mountain assured him that for the time being, all he needed was a drink and conversation. These were two things the King was ready and willing to give. As his pace picked back up and directed itself toward the lake, he found they crossed the distance in only moments. His head declined to the water level, lapping gingerly at the glassy surface of the lake. The water wasn't as cool as in winter, but it was still several degrees cooler than the air temperature - and therefore refreshing. He drank his fill and then rocked back to a sitting position, content to allow Gargoyle as much refreshment as he required. He knew not where the man had come from, or how long and taxing the journey had been. As the mountain finished his drink he returned to their previous line of conversation, seeming to have never missed a beat at all. Gargoyle seemed to think it was easier now that they weren't confined to a specific pack boundary. The King supposed that made sense, particularly when certain wolves would purposely seek out said boundaries in order to threaten the pack within. As a nomadic group, the Snow Rogues could easily slip past the radar of threatening wolves and just migrate to new and safer locations. He mentioned killing two - no, three - rogues since their disbandment. Maverick was glad that the three bodies that lay in Seracian soil were not on such terms - save for his mother. It seemed it was the King's turn to share information, as Gargoyle deftly switched the line of conversation to the Kingdom. The russet man spoke up, As you have already found, Seracia is under new reign. My wife and I have stepped up as King and Queen, and have shifted ranks as necessary. We saw the change in rulership coming, and were given fair warning of it - but certain circumstances brought it about sooner than even we could anticipate. My father was challenged by his former wife, Adette. She sought for Seracia, but then decided she would challenge for possession of Gerhardt himself. It was clear to all of us she had lost her sanity, but my father couldn't talk her down. They fought and in the end she begged him to take her life. He did so, but it sent him into a dark place emotionally. After those events he no longer saw himself as a fit King for Seracia, and so he handed the throne to me. He paused, realizing he'd just doled out a fair amount of information for Gargoyle to process. The news had taken a rather dark turn, but the King had saved their joyous news for last. He would wait for the mountain's reaction before telling him about his upcoming status as Father. Speech,

Burn the land and Boil the Sea; but you can't take the sky from me The male had only to ask and it would come. First, the news of Maverick's rule and apparently of his marriage. The boy had found himself a lucky girl. Inwardly Gargoyle grinned. Mateship, hmmm? Well that did make him a man. Finding someone who was willing to share a piece of your soul was just about the best thing on this gods forsaken planet. Worth all the trouble that it takes to find. But the talk was quickly to turn sour. Gargoyle had never met Gerhardt, but to hear of these circumstances... was enough to make even a cold brute him feel his heart go out. To be challenged was annoyed. To put it lightly. But... to be challenged by a mate... confusion broke through the male's usually stoney exterior, cracking the mask in the form of a slight, stern frown. With Gerhardt to lead it and Maverick a part of it, Gargoyle had assumed this family to be a nice one. What in the world had pocessed the boy's mother to do something like tha- oh, insanity. That would do it. The red lad's next words could be called nothing but sickening; "-They fought and in the end she begged him to take her life." Was it any surprise that Gargoyle felt an clenching in the bottom of his gut. Such a curse... Such a fate... Gargoyle was aware that the world was full of tragedies, but it was one thing when it happened to a twisted wolf who'd chosen a crooked path surrounded by crooked friends. It was enough when it was a happy family turn apart by the unseen coming of ill winds. The male's yellow eyes narrowed, lowering fiercely to the ground. To have to fight with a mate was-was bad enough - but to have her beg to... Gargoyle felt a wave of revolusion wash over him as two eyes- one red and one blue - popped into his mind's eye. His lover. His Ocena. It was ridiculous of course to think that they would ever be put in such a place. For one thing Ocena was no warrior and she was no challenger. But if so some unexplained, unimaginable cruel will of the gods, Gargoyle was placed in such a position... No. No he wouldn't! He couldn't. Even if Ocena were to loose her mind and wish him dead he would much rather die with her than carry on without. Once he had been the sort who would relish in having the gasping, gurgling throat of a fae between his jaws. But that was a different life. A sick, twisted demon burried deep down long ago. He wouldn't wish that upon anyone now. And to even think of... of Ocena? - It made him want to shred his own gums. No! A thousand times: No! That Gerhardt had chosen to live for his packmates rather than die with his broken heart must have taken strength the likes of which Gargoyle could not understand. He had lost his kingdom, yes. But he still had his family. His love. He would never count himself as unlucky again. "I don't wish to begin to imagine..." he said in a voice that, had it not been coming from him, one would've described as choked. It was too late of course. He already had. And now he had another thought. Up til then his mind had only been on the pain of the mate. But what of the son? Gargoyle looked up at the scarlet king. "What strength it must take, for you to continue on." with a dead mother and a heart-broken father. Sinceretiy was all that was in the male's voice. That sort of character had been beyond him when he was young. When he had lost his family, he had lost his way. Perhaps he would again were he ever to lose them a second time. But at least Maverick had a family of his own now, correct? Or at least the beginings of one? Gargoyle would not press him but he hoped that the subject would eventually drift toward brighter days. GARGOYLE 41 inches of doberman & timber wolf been just about everything but a saint

I'M GONNA BE THE MAIN EVENT like no king was before He hadn't allowed himself much time to dwell on the events that had led to his coronation, but now that he'd spoken them he found his mind wandering to what it must have been like for his father to take his mother's life. Maverick had loved Adette once, perhaps he still did. They had had their differences, but what mother and son didn't? It occurred to him that he had not properly apologized for his childish antics, for how he'd tested and tried her patience. Perhaps it was he that had led her to the split with Gerhardt, perhaps it was he that had lit the fire of insanity in her fragile mind. Perhaps it was he who ought to have gone to her after the divorce and had his final say. She had been vulnerable then, and he had left her to her own devices. He had chosen Gerhardt over her - he always had. Thoughts swam in his head, each making him realize what a failure he'd been. But what could he really have done? How much benefit could he have offered Adette? His father had said she'd gone mad, who's to say she wouldn't have challenged her own son if he would have went to her? Who's to say she wouldn't have ruined his life just as the pieces were finally falling together? The uncertainty of it all was the dangerous part, and the King was confident he had done the right thing. Adette had fallen by the wayside, and he had chosen his father for the sake of himself - for the sake of his now growing family. Gargoyle's voice brought him back to reality. He was praising the young king's strength. Oh the irony. It had not been strength that brought Maverick to where he was today, it had been his choices - however wrong or right they may be. "I try to dwell on the positives." He gave a sigh, a twinkle returning to his eyes. "Speaking of positives," his tail tapped the earth lightly. "I am to be a father." The bubble of joy and pride that ebbed in his lyrics was hard to miss, and the case was the same with the glow in his lime eyes. Fatherhood was something he was ready for, something he was eager to experience. He wondered how many litters the mountain had sired, how many little mountains were running around in his likeness - or his mate's. {Table coded by Lu}

Burn the land and Boil the Sea; but you can't take the sky from me The red wolf's words seemed hopeful. Perhaps he really was coping well. And he seemed of like mind with Gargoyle regarding the change in topics. His 'speaking of' put the grey mottled brute on alert, but when his nugget of news came, Gargoyle was speechless for a moment. Eventually he did make a sound - it was something between a train wreck and a thunderstorm. For those who weren't used to it, it could prove rather startling at first, but that was perhaps why Gargoyle didn't allow himself to laugh often. He was chuckling, and it drew itself out in a short moment of real belly rolling laughter before it subsided. His first words were simply: "Well that makes me feel old," but then he shook his head and relented. "Congratulations, Maverick." Garogyle straightened up and looked the other male over in wonder, thinking about what kind of father he would make. Probably a better one than Gargoyle - after all, he didn't have half the scars. The northern drake was well aware that there were those who were cynical about pups or saw them as a burden or some other such nonsense. He simply prayed that wolves like those would end up getting neutered somewhere along the way before they messed up any lives. Gargoyle's opinion on such things was far more comforting: "Having a family is just about the greatest thing any wolf could ever ask for." It was family that saved Gargoyle. It was family that kept him grounded. A smile cracked his stoney visage. "I remember when I first saw my first litter of pups... I warn you, Maverick," he said, half lightly, half gravely. "Being a father will change you. Once you decide to open up your heart and let those little things in-" he shook his head "-never the same. You'll feel like the luckiest creature on earth, but at the same time, the most protective." He could only imagine what sort of strange dotted red bundles of fluff would be running around the south soon. "Perhaps our families will all have to meet at some point," said Gargoyle, liking his sudden idea more and more. "Ocena and I are only a week or so away from having our second litter - and none too soon, for it seems my first three have grown up like climbing ivy." There was a new openess to Gargoyle's speech. Without really realizing it, he'd shed a great deal of his formalities. It wasn't to say that the eloquence of a dignitary didn't come naturally to him. But this was more relaxed. They were just two males talking about those they loved most. GARGOYLE 41 inches of doberman & timber wolf been just about everything but a saint

I'M GONNA BE THE MAIN EVENT like no king was before He could hardly hold back his enthusiasm during the momentary lapse in conversation while he awaited a response from Gargoyle. He hoped that the man would be happy for him, and would not think it unwise to father a litter at just over two years of age. Maverick had been groomed early on to be an adult, to act, think, and behave as one. He had been more mature at a year than many wolves nearing their third year. He knew fatherhood would present it's own challenges, but he was confident he could face each of them and conquer them as they came. After all, that's what a father was supposed to do. The mountain began to chuckle - at least Maverick hoped it was a chuckle - for it was very bassy and gravelly compared to others he was familiar with hearing. Congratulations was given, and the russet man dipped his head eagerly, a twinkle in his lime eyes. A "Thank you," trailed from his lips politely. The mountain went on to describe the joys of having a family - something Maverick had realized soon after marrying Epiphron. It was nice to have someone to lean on when your heart grew weary. It was lovely to have someone who was always on your side. Love was a powerful thing, and the man had only begun to dabble at the surface of it - fatherhood would deepen his knowledge of the thing. Gargoyle went on to tell him that fatherhood had a way of changing a man. It was already beginning to change Maverick, and his children were still in their mother's womb. He had found himself feeling superbly protective of both his wife - who in all reality could fend for herself - and his unborn children, so much so that he'd probably been a bother to Epiphron lately. "I can feel the protectiveness already, just the other day I could have mauled a squirrel for looking at my wife the wrong way." He chuckled openly, hinting that while there was some truth to the statement, it was mostly meant for light-hearted humor. "Of course, he agreed without hesitation when Gargoyle spoke of having the two families meet. Glaciem - or rather, the Snow Rogues - were welcome in Seracia anytime, and he hoped they would take him up on the open invitation more than once. "Ah, congratulations to you and Ocena as well! Perhaps when our children have had time to grow up and become more adventurous we can get them all together for a day of exploring? The thought of taking his children out alongside the mountain's was appealing, and it would give the pups a good chance to socialize and learn how to deal with allies. It was never too early for a lesson in diplomacy. The absence of formality in the older man's speech was hardly noted by the King, as he was finding that he truly revered the mountain not only for his size - but for his character. {Table coded by Lu}

Burn the land and Boil the Sea; but you can't take the sky from me From what the red wolf said, it seemed like Maverick was coming along just fine. Being a prospective father and a husband was bringing out all the right stuff, and Seracia was lucky to have such maturity in their young ruler. Then again, this was what the boy had been preparing for all his life - even at a year old he was making diplomatic meetings across Alacritis; it shouldn't have been a surprise. Something nagged at the back of Gargoyle's mind as these thoughts came through; was this how Cross would have been had they still had Glaciem? Would he be on his way through training of diplomacy and relations and formal respect? Would he have been ready to rule by the age of two? Guess they'd never know now. No, Gargoyle had no idea who would take his place as leader when he pulled out of his prime. Then again, with their odd fashion of living now, he was dependent on his own abilities and more so on just the combined strength of the pack. Perhaps the way the it should be. Maverick's hearty congratulations were happily accepted with a nod of the head, and twitching forward of tattered ears. What's more, Gargoyle's vague idea of getting the groups together, was returned with and offer from the Seracian King. Gargoyle could almost grin. "I think that would be loved by everyone." Gargoyle was thinking now, mulling the idea over. "I wonder," he rumbled, "We've not yet chosen a place to move to come winter; I do not wish to be an intrusion, but if you were not averse to us camping here come the colder months, then these plans of ours would be reality. My own pups will be about six months old by then." Plenty old enough to be respectful and grateful to the Pack of Seracia, and, - perhaps more important to them - old enough to run around and topple eachother over and play their games. GARGOYLE 41 inches of doberman & timber wolf been just about everything but a saint