The nagging feeling hadn’t let up, even after he’d stumbled on the vibrant lavender woman once more. She wasn’t the true draw of the titan back to his birthplace. Noir avoided the eastern lands at all costs, yet here he was staring at a world long gone by from his life. Dark brows knitted over his burning gaze, blue striped haunches coiled beneath him as he sat in perfect stillness that early summer night. Memories and thoughts that hadn’t bothered him in years were suddenly brought to the forefront as his eyes roamed the far distant curve of lands that he had once called his home.

He’d never belonged there, he wouldn’t have ever been welcomed really. Especially not after the volcano and Poem.. That had been the beginning of the end. Noir often wondered what might have happened if he hadn’t been seen. Or if he’d managed to rid the world of the favored daughter. He wouldn’t ever know.

Frustrated from the emotions that were seeping through his carefully crafted shell Noir snarled and pulled himself to his paws. In one smooth motion he was turned and headed back west despite the almost instinctual pull of Abaven’s borders.

The overhaul of Crystallum Cliffs meant that she was ranging outside of their territory more often than not. Wolves criss-crossed the cliffs during the daytime, hauling dirt and pausing to nibble, rest, and chat between trips. Night had begun to fall, coloring the sky that glorious, dusky purple that marked the beginning of a warm summer filled with spectacular sunsets. Theory paused to look out over the cliffs and across the water, already darkened as the sun set towards the west. The water was calm. She let loose a breath and turned back towards the border when a scent crossed her nose that rankled distant, long dormant memories. Not here. She hadn't seen Noir since she'd glanced at him across the crowded, bawdy party that had ended with her confessing to Thalia. What a lot of good that had done. She scanned the grasses, her eyes darting nervously until they finally settled on him, unmistakably the looming shape of her blue-striped brother. A strange feeling gripped her heart: grief, colored by anger. It flared bright in her chest. Would he even care that Rhyme was dead? He had done everything he might to set Noir on the right path as a child, but he'd simply escaped at the first opportunity. A coward. An exile. With her teeth set in an unyielding line and a face that revealed little, Theory crossed the moonlit grasses towards him. When she was within hearing distance, she simply said: "Hello. Are you lost?" Her voice was flat and affectless. "Speech"

He was going to do what he’d been doing, avoid this place like it was still on fire all those years ago. Noir never believed he belonged here, he’d always been the odd one out, he hadn’t ever really belonged despite everyone’s efforts. Now that he was older he could look back and see where everyone had tried to change him and mold him to a stellar Abaven citizen, but he was a square peg trying to fit into a circular hole. It wouldn’t work, it wouldn’t have ever worked. Yet even as buried feelings made it to the surface he felt the stirrings of his hate for Shaye, his hate for Poem and everything else Abaven.

So he was going to leave, again, and unlike this time he wasn’t coming back even with the strange ebb of summons. But fate wasn’t done with him yet. Noir ignored the sound of paws through grass, he feared none so they didn’t matter anyway. But then a familiar voice was all too coolly addressing him as he was wading away. ”No.” He answered as he stopped. He didn’t grit his teeth, he didn’t raise his hackles. Noir put on a smug grin and turned to face his sister.

”I still know my way around these parts far better than I want to.” It had been literal years, he had spent more time out on his own in his life than he had in Abaven at this point and yet he could still find all of the old trails. ”Are you lost? Seems a little far from your pack.”

"Well, as far as I recall, no one summoned you back east," she said drily. "You could stay as far away from these parts as you wish." And I'd like that very much, too. He hadn't changed much - if anything, he'd filled out more since she'd caught sight of him across the clearing at that ill-fated party. There was an aura of confidence about him that almost let her relax a little bit. Maybe now that he wasn't an insecure child, he wouldn't lash out... at least not with his teeth and claws. She could take as many verbal blows as he'd like to hit her with. "Things have been changing - we've shifted territories. Modifying some terrain. Abaven wolves will be crossing these lands for the rest of the summer." Including Poem, who you tried to kill. Over the years she hadn't spent much time thinking about it - everything had changed so quickly from the time of the fire to the eruption. Noir had always been a background character in her life - and in Abaven. Maybe that was why he was so angry.

Well, he had had plenty of time to re-write his story. He was clearly the leading man now. "Rhyme's dead," she said abruptly, sitting down slowly while maintaining the same distance. "Just so you're aware." Their father had tried to right things, but Noir had been so obstinate. What did you do with a child like that? It was enough to make her quake at the thought of having her own.

”You’ve got that right enough, I don’t answer anyone’s summons.” He returned defiantly as she also mentioned how welcome he was to stay away. Well she was holding quite the grudge wasn’t she? Maybe she hadn’t gotten her piece of tail like he’d thought she would the last time they spoke. A moment that could very nearly be described as years ago. They both had changed since then, Theory had much more bite in her authority. Not that she held any over him. ”Still not trespassing,” he mumbled as she mentioned Abaven moving, strange all the old ones would allow something like that to happen. They’d barely wanted to move during the Volcano.

Had that been the last day he saw his father? The question struck him as Theory said those three words. For a moment Noir was struck speechless. Hearing that Tana was dead hadn’t affected him, hearing that Shaye was dead, and overjoyed him, but now knowing that Rhyme had passed… Noir never considered himself sentimental, but he realized that maybe there was one that could command his presence. Rhyme. If Noir believed in anything supernatural it was the sudden pull and ebb he felt release as his sister spoke that name.

”Old bastard.” Noir spoke quietly, not towards Theory, she had practically disappeared as Noir gazed out over the horizon with similar blue and lavender eyes to the man he whispered to. His gaze fell to dark paws, there were few emotional reactions from within him these days. However this death struck a chord he didn’t realize still existed.

She let his words float out into the dark sky, taking no affront to them. There was almost something like affection in them, unless she was mishearing him. Grief effected everyone differently. Theo didn't truly hate her brother; it just wasn't in her. Hatred didn't come naturally or easily to her. They simply fundamentally misunderstood each other. From childhood, they had wanted different things - and so they'd cleaved apart, separate branches from the same tree. His mumbled not trespassing almost drew a laugh from her - in fact, a faint smile danced across her lips before disappearing as quickly as it came. No, he was not. "I can tell you more. About what's been going on. If you'd like," she offered, her voice slow and halting. It felt so strange to be speaking to him again. She felt a sinking feeling in her gut, almost like vertigo - as if she was standing on the edge of a cliff and looking down, down, down.

Noir didn’t know how he felt, it was an odd juxtaposition compared to the evening he spent in the hot springs a day ago. His father was dead. He hadn’t spared the old man much thought in a long time, his memory had always frustrated him unreasonably so. Rhyme was also the one who had always put the most belief in him. He could tell that Shaye had given up, Odysseus tried and his efforts were obviously not devoted like his sire. Rhyme was the only one who hadn’t given up on him, even at the very last moment when the volcano erupted.

He found that he hated knowing his father was not the immortal he’d once thought. He was weak and falliable as Noir had always though. However much satisfaction he should have from this revelation turned to disappointment.

Noir still didn’t really care about Abaven or the lives of relatives he’d left. Yet stunned as he was an odd word fell from his lips. ”Tell me.” He told her as his gaze trailed out over the horizon and for the first time in his life felt his heart grow heavy.

Tell me. She situated herself where she was, standing and turning around once before she settled in to a comfortable position laying down and looking out at the sea. The waves rumbled far beneath the cliffs, giving her a rhythmic soundtrack to focus on while she collected her thoughts. What did he wish to know? Why did he wish to know, after all this time? Theory blinked slowly as stars began to appear above them, pinpricks of perfect light in the dark pelt of the sky. "I'm opening the lands to the public, as a school. Poem has gotten married and had children - they're all fiercely smart, good kids. Some have chosen to leave, some have stayed. I don't think Rhythm is much longer for this earth... Rhyme's mother. She's been staying here, soaking up the time she can with the grandchildren." Theory halted, her voice falling short. The night seemed to swallow up her words one by one.

Noir seemed to be a patient listener. She laid there quietly in the darkness, waiting for a response from across the grass. If she didn't look right at him, she could almost pretend they were kids again. Just fussing around in the grass before making their way home to Rhyme's den. Her throat caught at the thought of it, tightening with a grief so fierce that she almost lost her breath. She'd pushed through with the singular goal of opening the school in mind, but it would haunt her that no one was here to see it come to fruition. Not Shaye. Not Rhyme. Not Tana.

He didn’t really watch her as he spoke, but even as the words left his lips he felt like he regretted them. Noir cut all ties with a family he once knew. He never belonged here, he knew that from a very young age. It had taken him too long to finally rid himself of them all. Even then his departure hadn’t been the dramatic scene he had daydreamed of. That volcano had changed everything.

Despite how much he didn’t desire to hear her words, the news she had about what he left, Noir didn’t stop her nor take back his request. She spoke briefly about her plans for Abaven, she only mentioned Poem so he had to guess she was the only one of their siblings still there. Motif had always been a coward, and Verse… She probably got herself killed a long time ago. Being disturbed so heavily by the news of Rhyme’s death wasn’t something he had ever expected, but the nostalgia he felt as they spoke was revolting.

Blue and lavender eyes shifted back to Theory’s features as she quieted, he could hear her suck in her breath and watched the way her face contorted under the weight of her emotions. ”I always thought…” Why was he saying this? Theory certainly didn’t need to know these intimate little details about the way his mind worked. ”Once they were all dead my life would just be infinitely better.” That had been partially true when he had washed his paws of everything Abaven. He enjoyed hearing about Shaye’s demise, but it hadn’t made his life any better. Now that Rhyme was dead he should have felt relief or like weight had been lifted from his shoulders. But he didn’t, he just felt like shit.

”It wasn’t even true.” He didn’t know why he felt this way or why Theory disturbed him so much. Maybe it was regret or maybe it was anger that he’d never been able to conform to the family Rhyme had made.

His words were strangely earnest, even if they disturbed her. Theory allowed them to wash over her and tried not to internalize them. She had thought her brother was somehow... "evil." He had been reduced to a villain of myth in her memories, and yet here he stood: just a man. No more, no less. The thought was almost comforting. "I am truly sorry that you feel that way," she said softly, her words measured and careful. "Not 'sorry' as in 'I pity you,' but sorry that you spent so much time waiting for your life to begin. It was always yours." In her heart, she believed Rhyme would have bade him a pleasant but stiff farewell upon his majority. The only reason he had been made to stay in Abaven under careful watch was because he had been a child. A child. We were children. "I'm glad we crossed paths," she said, still keeping her gaze trained on the horizon. "If only to say these few words." She didn't expect anything more from him, but it felt good to finally put the memory of him as some caricature of evil to bed.

Depending on the wolf, Noir could be considered many different things. He knew to Theory and Poem he was some dark figure in their past. Not that he gave much thought to the legacy he left behind in their hearts. The only regret he had was not making a bigger show when he left Abaven for good. He could feel Theory tip toeing around him, like he was a loaded trigger to be pulled as she spoke softly.

”Ha!” He tried to cover the emotion lingering in his voice. ”I grasped my life the moment I left.” Noir told her with all of the certainty he had about anything. She mentioned that she was glad that the two of them had talked, or happened upon each other. Something he hadn’t expected after their first few moments reunited. They were the last of their immediate family. Everyone else was gone. Something Noir was decidedly disturbed by. His own mortality tingled at the fringes of his conscious.

”You won’t get me to say the same.” He returned, his own blue and lavender gaze lingering on her features as he said it. But there was something final about the conversation they held.

I grasped my life the moment I left. She rolled her shoulders in acknowledgement. If he saw it that way, so be it. It had been a coward's exit after a failed, half-cocked scheme. His shadow in on her memories began to slowly recede into something more recognizable: a raging child, overcome with emotion and nowhere to turn. Despite the tension keeping her keenly focused on his presence, his next words - an echo of that petulant child - made her snort. "I wouldn't expect you to," she replied. With a low stretch, Theory shook out her coat and stood back up to pad away towards the pack lands he had loathed so much. "Goodbye, Noir," she called over her shoulder. The empty night air answered back.