Cold - Evans Blue





This was it. This was as close as the brute had dared venture toward what had been home so far. What had been done had been done. And now, all that remained was to for Newol to dive into the ashes and try to save those he could. It was with that purpose that he now sprinted through the trees. There was a drive that torn at his chest and a fire that burned into his muscles, and a voice bellowing in the back of his head. He knew the stories. He'd grown up with him. The stories that had followed his family like a curse. Zaraidd. Erani had adopted him, but Newol was still a Zaraidd. He was a hellion of the winter snow and a ruler of the mountain. And Newol specifically, a master of the desert sands. The Zaraidd bloodline didn't die. It couldn't be destroyed or snuffed out. They where survivors. They always had been. It was something that he knew. It was something he could put faith in. Because history had tried many a time.



That was the curse that followed him. That was what plagued his family. Every Zaraidd that was, it seemed, wasn't allowed to live a life that didn't walk paw in paw with disaster. His great grandfather Runner, the should be king that ran away from home to avoid the crown, who suffered greatly for one simple mistake. His grandfather Zaratul, the Great King Of The Mountain. Zaratul had ventured out to see the world with his two siblings. And both died, there deaths in some way the responsibility of the Mad Tyrant of the Forest. Zaratul himself left to wander the world alone. He'd nearly died of a sickness out there too. The young Shadow, who was supposed to have been only a hunter, who'd ended up having to lead an entire pack because of his Alpha's disappearance. These where just some of the stories. But every one of the set it right. Every one of them got out of their hell. Every one of them survived. A tear rolled from the young brown male's eye as he pelted through the trees, that thought hammering at the back of his mind with the flaming orange and pink light of the setting sun flooding the sky above him. A fire burned from his green eyes. The three scars across his snout scrunching together as his lips pulled back in a blood lust of a snarl. Those words kept drumming like a defiant bellow as he ran. At once, they encompassed everything that he held dear. I Will set this right! I will set this RIGHT! I will find my mother, and some how I will find some way to make this all Right Again!



It was in that moment that a spark of clarity washed over him. He at once understood, and this understanding drove him to dig even deeper, and cling even harder to that train of thought, and those few memories. And like a railroad spike, the words kept driving. [I]I have to set it right. I have to! I'll find a way, damnit![\I] And finally, all at once it erupted out of him, coming to a sliding stop, his head rose to the sky as the worlds exploded from his maw. [B]"I Will Set This Right!"[\I] and with a quick inhale of air, a furious bellow sounded the sky from his maw. He finally knew. Newol wasn't a Rogue as he had once thought. Newol wasn't a loner. Newol was a pack wolf. And he had a family. He had a mother. He belonged to somewhere and to someone. He Was Erani's Son!

She could not find Erani after the fight... the woman had all but vanished, leaving the previous members of Valhalla to either branch off on their own, or try and find each other themselves. The russet faced woman wasn't sure how to reunite her family, she was still gaining strength after being sick for so long - fighting for it wasn't an option just yet.


And so she would wander to her favorite place to stop and think. The wind whistled through the willows and calmed her no matter what heavy thoughts were on her mind. Only today, it would seem that she was not alone - and she would watch from behind a nearby tree as a young male slid to a stop, lifted his maw and howled. Her ears twitched, and she had to admit, that she was a bit impressed by his gusto. Looking him over, she realized that she had seen him before, although it was brief - at one of Erani's meetings. The male smelled like a previous Valhallan too, and so she would have no hesitation in approaching him.


"You have quite a bit to of work to do..." But her voice held hope. If there were many members of the old pack that felt the way this brute did, the way she did - then they would be together again. "Maybe the two of us can work together? That is, if we want the same thing..." She would leave a few feet between them if he didn't want to be bothered - but she wanted to know whether he wanted to earn back what had been taken from her family and pack family too.

Ooc:// I apologize for the saturation of emotion here, Seren, but I really need to vent some frustration and Newol is my instrument right now.

The brute was pulled from his fury by a somewhat familiar voice. It was never one that he'd spoken to directly before, but still one he knew. It was a voice he'd heard before. A voice that dulled out orders early in the morning, and handed out complements at the end of the day coming back in. It was a hunter's memory. A pack hunter's memory of his Beta. That along was proof enough of his point. He belonged here. Not out in the wilderness with as a Rogue. Yes, it was true that he loved the ability to see others as equals and know them for who they where inside and not just as the title they carried, but now after this, it was fair to say that they would all see each other that way if they survived. No, When they survived!

With a shake, he turned to see the source of that voice, and at once, scared face met scared face. When this happened, something clicked inside of Newol. This was Chrysanthe. He knew her to be an authority figure. Someone his mother had told him lead the pack once before she did. The scars that ran over her eye stood as proof of how much she cared. And then there was Newol. The Desert Brat. The Adopted child. The scars he bore on his face where proof of his own stubbornness when he set heart to something. It was so small a thing, but it was something he'd never had before with this wolf, in fact she probably hardly knew who he was. But here, here, they where themselves.

They where who they truly where for one another to see. And the smart thing to do would have been for Newol to question her as to what she wanted. To let her go first. But he was young, and emotions where tossing about inside him in a raging storm, emotions that he didn't all fully understand growing up the way he had. He needed to yell, he needed to thrash about and get it out of his system, and hopefully as a wolf who had been an Alpha once, she would understand that as the calm of surprise left his face and his lips came back again into a snarl once more, with the fire again beginning to billow from his eyes. The muscles in his neck and shoulders flexed as it all just came unblocked and began to flow. First there was anger. "I want my Home! I met her! I liked her, damnit! And she came and torn my mother's crown away! I want her to know that there at least one wolf left who will never give up on what he believes is Right!" It felt good. To feel the defiance that was his birthright shining through him. That bellow Zaraidd cry of 'Never Say Die' surge from him. But next, next it was just pain, and that pain shown through his eyes as he continued. "I want the Devil to Go! I want it to go away and just let everyone come up for air for a change! I'm sick of everything having to sound like just one big fight to survive!" His words came from his heart. He knew it was the way of the world, but again, he was still young. Not just quite a man yet so to speak. And so to say it out loud, it was something good for his soul.

But finally, what came next... What came next was clear as day as all the anger and fury died down form him. He ears fell as he lowered himself to his rump. That once so firy and determined face fell to his front paws. What was seen here was clear. It was a the panic and desperation of someone's son who thought they had screwed up. Newol believed he'd made a mistake in taking some leave to return to the wild. "I just want my mom... I don't wanna loose another one." He wanted to bring his head back up. He wanted to face her, to show her he was certain of himself and could somehow reclaim or reforge what had been lost, but he couldn't. His eyes closed and his nose stayed aimed at the ground. It was all he could do to keep from tears.

The boy seemed to struggle with her words for a moment. Chrysanthe would watch him, wondering just what was going on in his head. He had lost his pack, lost everything now that it was scattered about - which was why she didn't hesitate to stay near him even as he snarled. Even as he bristled and showed hints of agressiveness, she would stay where she stood. And then finally - he began to speak, to yell everything that he felt at that moment. They were the same feelings that she had swirling within her the first time Valhalla was lost. When she had been the reason that the mighty pack had fallen. He was angry and frustrated and so completely lost that she couldn't help that her eyes softened for him, her head and heart wanted to help him get what he wanted.


Valhalla...


It really was more than just a pack for it's inhabitants.


He wanted to relax with his family, to be with them without having to struggle to keep them beside him and oh - how she wished that she could tell him that it got easier. That in time they would rally up and love each other the way they should have on their own... but in her own experience, it stays that difficult. Wolves scatter and get lost and challenged for and you win some but you lose more - but if you don't appreciate what you have when you have it you would always feel like you were running a losing race.


"Life is hard - and I would be lying if I said it does nothing but get easier." They were not going to do anything to make him feel better, but these words were the utmost truth. "But you will get your chance to breathe, we all do - in moments, that sometimes last for months and sometimes for a few minutes at a time. You said your mother was you home..." With a heart so passionate, Chrysanthe was sure that this boy would catch his break. "You mother, who is she? I can help you look for her." If there was anything that she understood though, it was that a mother's love could beat out all of the shitty odds. Erani had cared for her, loved her, through all of her good decisions and her bad ones - if this boy loved his mother so much then she ought to be looking for him too.


"Chin up, fighting for what you love gets easier as soon as you realize you're not the only one fighting." He wasn't alone anymore - she would look after him as whatever he needed. A sister, a friend, an ally, it didn't matter, she saw potential in this boy. She saw a young male that would grow into someone great. "I'm Chrysanthe Adravendi - what's your name?"

She just sat there. Even as he bristled and snarled and yelled. Even as he gave into the emotion inside of himself. She just sat and listened. She calmly took what he had to give. Which actually was about the best thing she could have done for him. And as some calm returned to him that's when he realized, There it was. There was the leader still alive inside of her. She was still wise. Newol was thankful to her for that. But when she spoke, she only offered him truth. And he knew she was right too. Life was hard and there was nothing for it. But she didn't stop there. No. She went on.



She went on to tell him that he would have his chance for some peace eventually. This brought a weak smile to his face. He was thankful for her words so he didn't correct her, but it seemed shed misunderstood him. He didn't want that for himself. He wanted it for all the good souls. He didn't care if he got it for himself, so long as everyone else did. But her words were kind so he took them. Not really in the mood to be picky over the details at the moment, it was still too fresh.



She seemed thoughtful for a moment, as if recalling some memory or maybe even analyzing the sorry wolf before her. The words that followed next where true enough, yes. But that wasn't good enough anymore, no. The wolves of Valhalla, the [I]real[/] Valhalla, deserved a pack. And so he would do his best to give them that... Somehow. And he questioned him. But before he could answer, she told him to chin up. Which he did, finally bringing his gaze back up to meet hers. It was any uncertain, uneasy gaze. But it was there none the less. And finally she introduced herself. When she did, Newol went wide eyed for a second as hope flooded his heart. A smile came to his face as some tension left ships shoulders. All he could do was look at her humbly for as moment and take one deep breath in. As he exhaled he knew. She really understood him. Finally he found his voice again, a little shaky, but relieved. "My name is Newol Zaraidd Adravendi." was all he felt he needed to say at that moment.