Sarak

The lanky Psi Secondary loped easily toward the north, mottled brown and black pelt gleaming, as though Azalea just being back had helped to bring back the sleek sheen of his fur. The fact that he was going to collect their boys from Glaciem, freeing them, only added more vigor to his steps. Moss green eyes, verdant in their color, were no longer flat and distant, but glittering with life once more. However, as he drew near the territories of Glaciem, he slowed, cadence becoming more business like, face washing of all expression. Despite the thing about dissolving all grudges, and the like, he wasn?t going to be stupid and immediately trust the northern pack. Coming from a pack like he had, he knew a lot about backstabbing, and he would have to see the next two years through without any trouble from Glaciem before he?d trust them even the slightest. Sarak stopped as the scent of the pack borders reached his nose on the breeze, his position being about five feet from the borders, and lifted his muzzle to the heavens, calling out in a slightly raspy song for Soren and Kismet. His call made, he retreated several feet away, haunches lowering to the snowy ground, to wait for his boys to come. Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think

Freedom was a thought constantly on Kismet Adravendi's mind. He despised the current state that he and his brother had found themselves in, though the closest thing to harm he'd really come to was Liberty's threat that and Eris' worry that they may have been harmed had certainly made things far less enjoyable as of late. To make matters worse, he hadn't yet been able to escape the lands and see Warja again, and not only was he left fearing what might happen to he and Soren each day they spent here, he was terrified that Warja would try some mad way to break them out. The boy longed to reassure her that they were still fine, even more so he longed to rush up and tell her to forget any stupid plans she may have begun to develop and that their adventure could begin. He simply needed a way to breakout though, his mother had managed it, and surely he and Soren could too? They just couldn't spend the rest of their lives here in Glaciem as prisoners, any thoughts that they might left a bitter and sickening feeling. The call that sounded at the borders caught his attention. Clearly the noise was meant for he and Soren, and though he assumed he must have been going mad, he could have sworn that he knew that voice. Stopping in his tracks he'd first of all seek out his brother and only once he had been found would he make his way to the borders and be met with an incredible surprise. The first thought was pleasure and triumph, Valhallans did care about them, here was Sarak now. And that revelation brought on the second emotion, worry. What was Sarak doing here? Eris had indeed worried him with her warning of a death warrant, he couldn't allow the man to put himself in danger either. The tall boy would step forwards, face suddenly serious once more. "What are you doing here?" He questioned. "You should leave before anyone else comes." It hopefully wasn't too late, there would be no covering the scent but at least if Sarak had gone he stood a better chance than if he stood so boldly upon the borders of the pack's lands.

The time the brothers had spent in Glaciem had taken its toll on them both, but Soren had no doubt that if it hadn't been for Kismet that he would have wasted away a long time ago, with the completion of their den he had drawn in upon himself, secluding himself even more than usual. His only contact with the world beyond those dirt walls had been his brother. There had been calls for the pack, and he had ignored them. He wasn't part of the pack, he was a prisoner and if they demanded his attendance they would have to drag him there.

Soren hardly left the den, only doing so to relieve himself and to occasionally assure himself that this all hadn't been a dream and he was really back in Valhalla. Despite this he had managed to keep himself in decent enough shape, he groomed his fur every day, for seemingly most of the day. There had been a call for both he and his brother a few days ago but he had not cared to answer, and so Kismet had gone to see who it was alone.

The boy nearly ignored this new call, nearly. Something he couldn't explain compelled him to answer its call. He rose, and slowly exited the den, scanning the horizon for Kismet, who no doubt would be heading off to answer the call. There a bit of a ways off he could see his brother, and the two made brief eye contact before Kismet turned towards the border. Soren lagged behind, the pines starting to twist and shit into strange bent forms.

Finally his brother and the one that had called them came into view. He approached hesitantly, standing a bit back from his brother and watching the stranger with narrowed eyes. He finally realized who it was that was standing before them, Sarak. The boy retreated within himself slightly, ducking his head and avoiding the mans gaze. He was happy and yet? There was something else there too. It had taken anyone this long to seek them out, were they really so easily forgotten?

talk, think

Sarak

Sarak sat with his head high, moss green eyes watching the woods, until at last, they came. A smile broke on his features, tail making one of its rare wags, sweeping across the snow. ?Kismet, Soren. I?m so glad to see you. I?m sorry it?s taken so long.? And he was, but this was better than a challenge for them. There was no fight lost to wound Isardis? famous pride and fan the flames of his determination to royally wreck Valhalla?s life, and no deaths in a pointless siege. While he had secretly enjoyed his fighting in that siege, the enjoyment was not for the loss of either the unknown male Isardis and Argent had murdered, nor for the death of his rival for Azaleas affections, the skeletally marked grey male. Kismet was obviously worried, and my, how he had grown, towering over Sarak by many inches. Sarak grinned. ?And you and your brother are coming with me as I go. You?re free. Erani secured both a two year treaty of peace, and your release. Apparently, the Queen of Glaciem was in a pickle, and Erani was intelligent, and took advantage of the situation. She sent me to collect you.? Haunches lifted from the snow, flakes of the white stuff dropping from the stiff guard hairs of his rump. Verdant eyes turned to Soren, noting the withdrawn look of the male. ?Erani wanted to get you both back, everyone did. But first, Valhalla needed to be strong enough to fight back if getting you back caused a war again. That is why it took such a long time? Now, lets get away from Glaciems borders before speaking more. My hide prickles from being this close to it.? He turned, setting off at a slow trot, leaving the boys to keep up with him. When they were further away, and out of eyesight of the Glaciem territory, he slowed, allowing his emotions to show on his face. Happiness, fatherly love? They were the main expressions as he turned his eyes to look at them, though his pace stayed the same. ?You two have grown. I feel short.? Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think

Kismet would glance back to his brother who kept a little more distance and quietly stood. He'd certainly taken to caring for Soren during their stay here and it seemed that just because Sarak had arrived the habit wasn't going to stop for either of them. Mismatched eyes would flick back towards Sarak who clearly expressed more joy than either of the currently confused boys, apologising for the length of time. Truth be told the pair of them had wanted an instant rescue and the longer it went on, the more it seemed that there would be no mission to save them at all. Soren had given up the hope first, and all Kismet could do was continue to be there for him. The explanation was astounding though, Kismet could hardly believe his ears. They were free, just like that? There was a part of him that wondered how it had taken so long if they were truly allowed to just walk off the borders now and never have the fear of Glaciem chasing them down though too pleased with the news he wouldn't bother to question it at all. He was going home! Or was he? He definitely needed to see Warja first and there was still that longing to explore, could he really leave Soren behind though, even if it was in Valhalla? "That sounds good to me. Come on Soren, let's go." He didn't bother to gloat that his faith in Valhalla had been right, that they still had a place in the world beyond each other's side. The situation certainly didn't call for it nor did Kismet want to boast either, there was no pride in the matter he'd been right simply pleasure that those wishes had finally come true and that they were at last free once more. He'd move of to follow Sarak now, a small smile crossing his lips at the man's comment. Indeed the pair had certainly grown, the last time he'd seen Sarak Kismet had been able to look up to him and now it was the opposite. The size gap was a little smaller with Soren but neither were little boys anymore. Once they'd travelled a little more from the borders, Kismet cast his gaze towards the east. Flicking his gaze back to them he knew that they could talk more now, and he had to tell them both before he got any further. "I can't go home. At least not just yet. I've got to go see someone." His tone suggested that there would certainly be persuading him any differently. He had to let Warja know that he was ok and free.

Sendoa had begun to rip them apart; and though Isardis still fought to find the energy within his brittle heart to forgive her mistakes, a seething hatred for her lack of perception would forever simmer within his blood stream and tear beneath his skin. The boy that wandered so close to his boarders was not what had alerted the revitalised albino; but instead the movement that strode from within his borders. It had been poorly of him pull the two boys from their mother, and not pay them even a moment of his time; though it was warrented by his lack of health, had the infection not drowned his body into fits of rocking ailments perhaps he would have tried somewhat harder. Either way, he understand the duo would never grow to call Glaciem home. He was well aware that the event was likely fuelled by Sendoa, it seemed she enjoyed purposely encouraging harm upon others; or at least upon those who wished to worm beneath his own wrath at the cause of her poor decisions. And so, however silently Isardis would trot as a muted ghost; leaving the walls of his territory to trace his way towards the sickening cologne of the unwelcomed Valhallan. He had grown bored, and the power that surged his health-infused veins was far from ignorable. He would save the full extent of his rage for later, but perhaps now, a simple reminder of his presence would not go astray; from beneath the shield of a fallen tree, Isardis would emerge, seeking to appear by the right-hand side of the moving man. ?How quaint of you to stop by sir, but leaving so soon?? a tickle of pleasure rumbled his pipes, hackles bristling atop his spine as he attempted to move out before the Valhallan boy; as if striving to prevent his movement. Paws began to spread atop the soil, claws seeking to be encumbered by its retained warmth. His stance took on the form of aggression, however he would not attack; no, it would boost his pride just as much if the boy fled from his presence like a lamb avoiding the jaws of a hungry fox. Either way, the boy who was already somewhat familiar would be remembered even more so; and revenge would soon find its way to him one way or another. But what would he do now?

Soren listened to what Sarak had to say, his face a mask of no expression. They had been bargaining chips then? He wouldn't dwell on that too long though as the dappled male would rise to his paws and Kismet would turn to speak to him. The ebony and ivory boy looked at his brother for a moment before nodding. So the trio would set off, putting the hellish pack behind them. Soren picked up his pace to match that of his brother's not really relishing the idea of being at the back while still so close to Glaciem.

The boy would remain silent, casting hazel gaze around him. He was wary. It wasn't really that easy was it? It couldn't be! Kismet spoke again, momentarily pushing the worries from Soren's mind. He looked at his brother, frowning. Hadn't all Kismet spoken of non-stop since arriving been about returning to Valhalla and now he was suggesting they delay that? He didn't have a chance to question that however as an ominous silver shape emerged ahead of them. The panic rose up in him as he realized it was a great albino male.

The man was vaguely familiar, and he bore the overwhelming scent of Glaciem. I knew it! I knew it! He took an panicked step back, drawing his tail between his legs as he did so. This man had come to take them back, come to drag them back into hell. Even as Soren cowered before the man he resolved that if they wanted to take him back they would have to drag him there. He would never return of his own volition!

talk, think

Azalea had caught word of Sarak going to retrieve her sons. No one had told her exactly when that was happening and it seemed like they suggested it best for her to sit this one out. She did, she had, at least for a little while. Sarak was long departed by the time Azalea grew antsy on her toes and began to fester under the skin. How could they even make the suggestion that she not involve herself? A light growl bubbled up and she choked on it before it could escape. With a lick of her lips she found finality in her decision. Azalea Adravendi would go to her children. The north was much the same as last she saw it, eerily so. This was not Sparse Pines but it was Glaciem land non-the-less. Nose pressed to the ground, fur on end, following Sarak's much familiar scent. She didn't know where he was going. She wasn't aware that Glaciem had spread like a disease in the north. Azalea's body froze, hidden by stunted pine trees, as the voice that had haunted her spoke. ?How quaint of you to stop by sir, but leaving so soon?? Azalea's heart rate spiked and she felt quite suddenly like a caged bird fluttering desperately for an escape that could not be found. Isardis was threatening, even in a placid state. She forced herself to breathe. Gathering herself Azalea stepped into sight, moving to stand beside Sarak with her eyes locked on her children. Soren stood tail tucked in fear. A rage bloomed in her chest, painful and hot like a spike sent through her heart. How dare Isardis scare her sons, their sons. She held herself together, resigned and calm on the exterior. Her eyes though gazed longingly and loving to her boys, now so large, so much like their blood father. "Boys," She didn't know what else to say, feeling as though she had betrayed them by fleeing. How could she order them to come to her like they belonged to her when she had left them? Her attention turned to Isardis, back leg side stepping so that her fur could mingle with Sarak's. "You have so many children with so many females and of them all you choose these to treat so cruelly. Perhaps you are losing your edge, Isardis, for not using your time to turn them against me. And what fine adults they are becoming. They could have been so useful to you but instead they fear you. I had told them nothing of you or your existence, you could have been the hero father who was in deed alive but instead you are the demon who held them against their will and struck fear into their very core. Congratulations." Azalea felt she was provoking him and it made her tremble, her mind too soon to remember how he overtook her in her time of weakness. It was nearly that time of year again. "Let us leave, Isardis. Honor the agreement. I am not dumb, I know you will be at us the first chance you get."