9

Sarak

Sarak padded through the territory, feeling confused. Deep brown fur blended with the surroundings, Autumnal colors matching his coloring. Only his deep green eyes stood out bright against the reds and golds and browns, and the near black of his own face. He had decided to stay in Valhalla. It was a good home. But at the meeting, Cairo had announced that it was no longer such. Paws lay silent on the earth as he wandered through what he had thought was a strong home. But now? It was jumbled. Alphas were coming and going, stepping down, giving over their leadership left and right. He paused beside a deep pond and settled back on his haunches, gazing down into the dark water. Valhalla was still stronger than Blackmoon Pack. He growled. If he ever saw a member of his birth pack, he would happily tear into that wolf, even if that wolf were a sibling. Illusia. He wondered how the oddly marked female that was his sister was. She had been an Assassin in training, like him. But she was ambitious, and had already begun clawing her way up the ranks. She loved poisons and deadly herbs. Her violet eyes and dusky purple tail with it?s indigo tip. Her swirling pale markings over her black base. She had already been seducing other males to get close. She wasn?t as beautiful inside as she was on the outside. She was a slippery serpent. She held no love in her heart. Only the lust for power. No doubt, she would be aiming for a position as an Alpha, perhaps challenging Whisp for the position. Whisp and Fenrin were getting older. However, it would still take cunning and strength. He shuddered. And turned his thoughts to his brother, Arag. Crimson eyes stood bloody against his black pelt, a warning of his harsh temper and dangerously loose mind. Arag had been set into the path of the Berserkers. Sarak snorted. Perfect choice. And then there was Yssamega. Now? She had potential. She was shy. And yet she had risen to the challenge of survival. Perhaps it was Fenrin?s advancing age, but she had won her survival fight. They all had been lucky. Yssamega more than the rest. A shy wolf didn?t last long in Blackmoon Pack. A shy female? A shy female was taken advantage of. Rape and Murder were not punished in that pack. It was fight to survive, or be ravished or shredded. Perhaps that was why Blackmoon?s ranks were so small. Only the stronger wolves lived. A soft growl rolled through his chest. Yssamega? He would give her a chance to live if she ever came to arms against Valhalla. For a Blackmoon wolf, she was gentle. How she had ever come from a mixture of wolves like Lash and Kill, he had to wonder. Deep green eyes gazed into the pond, ivory teeth gleaming a moment as his dark jowls lifted in disgust and fell again. He hated his parents, now that he knew what he?d been missing. He saw pups here, being raised with love, growing strong and fat. These pups would be large and strong, brave. They wouldn?t be ruled by fear of an old tyrant. They would have honor. His parents had been cold as the glaciers of the north. Kill had been a wolf driven by bloodlust and a love of his job as an Assassin. He treated the job as if it was an art. Just how messily could he stretch out a target?s entrails and splatter their blood? He strove to desecrate the target?s body. Lash had been the typical Blackmoon pack female. Serpent like, coiling herself around any male she thought she could manipulate. She was also the best female assassin in the pack. She was beautiful on the outside, like Illusia. He huffed. How he wished that Erani could have been his mother. She was gentle, beautiful on the outside and the inside. After her initial coolness toward him had eased, she?d turned out to be warm, caring, gentle. Strong. Could he ever be as good as the wolves here? Could he ever make up for what his birth pack had done to Erani? He had been a frightened fool. He?d never known what it felt like to be out from under the eyes of his birth pack until he?d set off to complete his first mission. Erani?s death. And then he?d failed, and instead of the one he?d tried to kill returning the favor, she and Cairo, the terrifyingly large brown male, had given him a chance. He wanted to return that favor. He lowered himself to his belly and studied his reflection. His father had been large, with an eerily graceful way of walking. Like a snake in water. Sarak would never reach his potential size, even with the fine hunting Valhalla possessed. His crucial period of life, where good feeding and care was needed to make him strong, and enable growth, had not been enough to facilitate any chance of him growing to his father?s size. He would be small, lean and quick. He had decided not to continue in the training of an Assassin. There was no need for one here. He was fast. So? A runner was what he chose now. A messenger. He smiled, and his reflection smiled back.

The small female clung to the shadows. With winter drawing near her coat had become thicker and due to that, she could barely mind the chill that was in the air. She was a wolf of winter, born in the cold aside a lake called Wolfpaw. A happy outcome to horrible incident that had drove her family and all others from their previous home. For her it seemed impossible that liquid fire could consume the land, destroying lives and the land all in one swift, solid blow. She had followed a scent that was familiar to her, leading her here. Beside the water sat Sarak. He was such a mystery to her. Not born of Valhalla. Really she didn't understand his rank in the pack but he seemed noble of heart as any Valhallan ever was. The male's coat was a love mottled color and his eyes a vibrant green. Azalea army crawled into a good position. She couldn't make up her mind on if she wished to approach or not. Perhaps he didn't want company. Amber eyes were content to watch and before an internal struggle seemed to rise. He growled at his reflection but she wasn't aware if he even noticed the action. Another still moment before he showed his fangs and then laid himself down upon the ground. The female jumped from her hiding spot and bounded over to him, tail waving flippantly in the air. She would cheer him up because just like her mother, she hated to see another wolf down in the dumps. "Sarak! Hi." She seated herself beside him, more than close enough to reach out and touch him. It was a comfortable distance, a distance placed between friends. "You probably don't know me... I am Azalea." She had to cut herself off, he might not want to hear that Collision was her father and saying that Soleil was her mother was fairly good announcer of who her father was. She glanced down into the pool, to the reflection of Sarak. She was not so young as to not know attraction. The male was very good looking by her standards. She smiled, leaning in to touch her nose to the water, sending ripples out, breaking their reflections. Once she did this she sat up, turning lightly toward him. Even though he had a small build, she still had to look up to meet his gaze as she was not quite a year old. "Do you want to talk? You seem a little down in the dumps." Her face fixed up with uncertainty and it was easy to tell on her expressive face. Speech,

9

Sarak

The sudden rustle of bushes made Sarak leap to his paws in a nearly comical whirl, and he faced the oncoming wolf on squared paws, head low in an instinctive defensive stance. What he faced, however, was a young female who bore a striking resemblance to Chrysanthe. The only differences between the two females was that Chrysanthe had a white ear, and blue eyes. This young femme, who he now recalled glimpsing at the disastrous meeting a day or so prior to this day, had both ears as well as her head doused in that deep auburn color. Her eyes shone a deep amber. Sarak immediately released his stance and straightened, tail giving a slow tock-tock of apology. Then she was right up next to him, and he wasn?t exactly sure how to react. It was really his first close encounter with the Valhallan wolves. He?d been like a shadow among them. She sat herself down beside him, and slowly he lowered his haunches to the ground again. An ear flicked at her greeting. She knew his name? Moss green eyes studied the young female as she introduced herself. Azalea. It was a pleasant name, good on the ears. Her mother, whoever that was in the pack, had named her well. He watched her as she looked down at the water, then touched her nose to it, sending ripples across the surface. It broke the reflections of their forms into a riot of earth and snow colors, with the riotous fires of Autumn mixed in. She straightened and turned to him. She had an expressive face. The uncertainty that flickered there as she spoke made one ear droop slightly. He hadn?t spoken much in the time he?d been in Valhalla since the night he?d been cornered on that cliff by Erani. He?d preferred to hang back and watch, listen, learn. So when he spoke, his voice broke, only a soft croak, and he paused to clear his throat before trying again. ?I don?t mi-- Er. Mhgm. Er. I don?t mind the Company, Miss Azalea. I was just? Thinking.? He offered a shy smile, one ear folding backward as he glanced at her, then away.

Her approach didn't have the reaction he had been hopeful for. Rather than simple curiosity Sarak became defensive. It slowed her down, moving more carefully, giving him time to see that she was no threat. Internally she pondered why he might behave in such a way. It may well be left over from his life before Valhalla or it could be in conjunction with the way things had been going lately. The meeting was not far from her mind. In the time she had wasted worrying about her mother, she had missed vital information and then suddenly all hell had broke lose. Her mind shied away from the image. Syrinx had always made her uneasy, but challenging for the throne?! After evaluating her for a moment, Sarak's muscles loosened and his posture changed to one that said he was sorry. She just wagged her tail at him, not sure telling him it was okay would make it okay. Instead she was resolute to place herself at his side. It seemed a potentially dangerous place to be for her, but she held her head high and showed no fear. His surprise was obvious, she could see him tense up for a second before he relaxed. She was a Valhallan, and a young one at that, what harm could she be? He sat beside her. ?I don?t mi-- Er. Mhgm. Er. I don?t mind the Company, Miss Azalea. I was just? Thinking.? She smiled, the worry in her eyes fading away as if had never been there. "Where are you from?" She asked suddenly, looking at him a bit ashamed when she realized it had slipped out. "I'm sorry, you uh.. don't have to answer that if you don't want." Speech,

9

Sarak

Sarak was watching a leaf drift along the surface of the pond, when her question made him look up quickly, unease rippling through his skin. This wolf was too young to know of Blackmoon Pack, and not many here knew of that pack. But? His mind whirled as he tried to think of a way around that, but she saved him by releasing him from the obligation. ?Ah? Not from Valhalla, as you know already.? His tail tightened around his haunches. He turned to look at the dark visage, changing the subject. ?So? Winter?s almost here. Have you seen snow before?? Moss green eyes flicked to the sky a moment before returning to the young female. His first winter had been harsh. It had been hard for all the young and old. Blizzards had whispered their death songs for a few weak wolves, and many more wolves were skin and bone by the time spring arrived. He had a feeling winter here would be much better.

Sarak reacted, tensing and shying away from her sudden question. Her eyes hardened a bit as mentally she withdrew herself from him. This conversation was not going as well as she had expected. The plan in her head already thrown out the window. ?Ah? Not from Valhalla, as you know already.? He waved away her prodding question. He focused on anything but her. Silence hanging awkwardly between them. She debated leaving him alone, but then he spoke. ?So? Winter?s almost here. Have you seen snow before?? She smiled, the action barely touching her lips. "Yes, I was born in Winter." She glanced at him, but only for a moment. She lowered herself down to lie on the ground, leaning forward so that her tongue could slip out to lap up the cool water. When she leaned back she water dripped off her chin. "By a lake. I was born by Wolfpaw Lake." Azalea, unlike him, had nothing to hide about her past. Liar! Her conscience howled. If she had nothing to hide then why didn't she tell him who her parents were? She averted her eyes as far away from him as possible. Be brave, Azalea! He can't hate you for who your parents are! He mental pep-talk made her sigh. "My mother, Soleil, fled the fires of Valhalla's previous home heavily pregnant. My father, Collision," She glanced at him quickly when she said his name, "Stayed loyally by her side.. My brothers, Gael and Soleon, and I were born before this land could be found. I was the forth born..." He hadn't asked but suddenly he was getting her life story. Azalea was the forth born, one puppy, smaller than she, had come before her. Stillborn. There was another gap of silence. "My mother has been very ill, so it is likely you have not met her. You know my father, there's no way that you couldn't. Anyway, now both of my parents are MIA. I haven't seen either in days, but somehow, it doesn't really bug me...all that time of my mother being sick and my father being busy left me a lot of time to grow up." She looked at him. "Things aren't always happy, Sarak, I get the feeling you know that better than most, but we have to keep hoping because one day... one day everything will be okay." Speech,

9

Sarak

Her answer to his question received a nod. ?I?m Winterborn as well. In a blizzard.? Moss green gaze stared into the pool, not watching the leaves floating by. ?I and my siblings were all lucky to survive in that pack. The Blizzard lasted well into our first months. It was a long winter.? He refrained from going on, instead letting her tell her own story. As her eyes averted, his turned to her as he listened. So that was what had happened to the place he?d come across in his trek to find the mark he?d been assigned? The blackened, burned and torn landscape had certainly not been what the last remaining assassin from the last mark had described. He?d described it as ?Sickeningly lush and beautiful.?. He?d said that prey had been plenty even in winter when the attack had been made. She glanced at him, almost nervously as she spoke her sire?s name. He knew the name. The male had been alpha until very recently. Where had that loyalty gone? He?d heard that the grey toned male hadn?t been staying with his ill mate when she needed him. He wouldn?t hold her sire too her. After all, look at his own parents. And grandparents. He?d had the family from hell. He let her talk, nodding. He?d had to grow up almost as soon as he could stumble along on stubby puppy paws. He?d been thrown along with his siblings into training for fighting. Puphood was only a heartbeat. One breath and it was gone in that pack. Grow up or die. He smiled at her last statement, this time not looking away. ?From what I grew up in before I came here? Valhalla is paradise. Your pack loves, no matter how much they may disagree with one another on certain subjects. They are a family. I never knew the meaning of the word before I came here.?

?I?m Winterborn as well. In a blizzard.? He answered, willing enough to let her in on that much of his life. His eyes stayed on the water though Azalea's eyes wandered to him. ?I and my siblings were all lucky to survive in that pack. The Blizzard lasted well into our first months. It was a long winter.? She maintained a straight face, observing the way he held himself in check while speaking. It was the most of his past that she had yet to hear. When he stopped she told him of her beginning, how she ended up her rather than somewhere else. There was no judgement when she mentioned Collision and it made her feel stupid for even thinking that he would react. She also felt an ache in her soul as she realized how wrong it was of her assume her father's name was a bad word. ?From what I grew up in before I came here? Valhalla is paradise. Your pack loves, no matter how much they may disagree with one another on certain subjects. They are a family. I never knew the meaning of the word before I came here.? He smiled at her while speaking and she smiled back when he spoke of Valhalla in such a positive way. "You're a part of the family now too. You know that, don't you?" Azalea stood up, taking a step away. "I suppose I will see you around," She said with another smile before turning to leave. Speech,

9

Sarak

She had smiled back, and her next words made him wonder if she would really consider him a part of the family if she knew how he?d come to Valhalla. How many of the wolves here would try to kill him if they found out that he had been sent to kill their best healer? He had changed his ways, but wolves could still hate him for his past. She stood, and he looked at her as she made an obvious farewell for now. ?I hope so, Azalea. You?re the first wolf to have approached me personally. I've never had a friend before.? He gave a small smile. She turned to leave, and he called after her. ?Walk safely, Azalea.? That was one would that would do the world some good. He watched her vanish into the bushes, then rose to his paws and looked down at the water, now still once more. He would try to do some good, too.