i pave my own path So much had happened in the last few months. Banshee had been locked in a thorny cage, rescued by Sirius, she found out her father was missing, and had a very emotional evening with her friend Iroh. The babe was riddled with emotions that seemed to get easier to deal with each day. But, what stuck with her the most was her starlight night with Iroh. The way they so easily connected with one another and were able to truly get everything of their chest. Even though they hadn't spoke to one another about anything so serious before Banshee couldn't help but to feel so comfortable with him. Never had the yearling expressed her feelings in such an honest and raw nature. After doing so she was left feeling like a ton of bricks had been lifted from her chest but also her mind ran rapid with the memories of being so close to her friend. As the fanged feign moved through the Oasis her thoughts couldn't help but to think over the nicer moments of that night. Sleeping beside him and waking up with him snoozing next to her. Banshee felt like a silly pup with her first crush and wanted to kick her own butt for it. But, she could admit she did enjoy the feeling of having someone of importance in her life.. 'I just hope he doesn't leave me too..' It was a running theme in her life after all. Banshee shook the oogly googly sappy thoughts from her head for as long as she cound. The gal slipped through the tropical trees and wilds. The region was beautiful even if it was only a temporary location. 'Anything beat being locked in that thorny cage..' A pang of anxiety swept over her and she shut her eyes for a moment. It wasn't the idea of being stuck that bothered her but the idea of being so close to death. The feeling of starvation and dehydration. Ban still had nightmare of the pains in her belly and the reckless fight to break through the vines. Her lacerations were healing but still stung with a lot of movement. They were constant reminders of her near death experience. Speech

ooc: gonna be really vague with this post because a couple of threads aren’t finished, but it’s after everything that happens in Abaven and after she goes to Sirius first.

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Leaving Abaven after her mother’s death was one of the hardest things after losing Shaye the young Destruction had been through. She didn’t know what Sirius might do if she hadn’t come back, and she couldn’t risk Motif’s place away from this terrible pack. So the young Destruction returned regretfully. She was much less a child now, she had no mother, she’d made life altering decisions. Poem had to be an adult despite her age.

She’d taken up her dam’s armor, the white leather slipped onto her limbs perfectly. She wouldn’t deny the many tears that fell as she’d done so, but she felt the spirit of her mother flow through her. Poem had to be strong, and she wouldn’t let her mother’s spirit or her ideals die with her.

Poem wasn’t outspoken within the new pack, she was still wary of the position that Sirius had placed her in. A chance to rule the pack? What kind of madman put his captive in such a rank. She still didn’t understand him, but she would remain loyal to her word. She avoided the other members as best she could, but didn’t realize until too late that this part of the oasis was occupied. With a sympathetic glance Poem aimed to avoid the similarly aged she wolf, but she didn’t miss the look on her face.

Too much of Shaye lived on in her heart, and before she could think better of it the words tumbled from her slate lips. ”Are you okay?”

i pave my own path Banshee was frozen in worrisome thought with her eyes clenched shut when a feminine voice filled her ears. The yearling's beaming blue eyes flashed open as she whipped her head to look at the stranger. The unknown femme was about the same age but a bit larger then Banshee herself. Ban was large for a female Klein but the babe before her was taller all the same. With a raised brow she scanned over the slate girl, taking in those rather interesting markings. The white under eye gave her a gentle reminder of her father's old slave, Eulogy. The earthy toned servant watched her and her siblings while their parents were doing who knows what. What truly stood out to the Klein femme was the stranger's eyes. The mixture of pinks and blues making a very familiar sparkle of purple. A face flashed into her very fresh memory and it was of her dear friend Iroh. She could hardly ever get those eyes out of her head and now suddenly she was staring into them. But, they were not his. Banshee cocked her head to the side gently and ignored the babes inquire to present one of her own. "Who are you?" Speech

Her question went unanswered as the she wolf rejected it and returned one of her own. She seemed curious, like she had almost recognized her for only a moment. Poem was sure that she’d never met the young woman before, but she seemed just another of the many Kleins within Ashen. She had no problems meeting her gaze either, Poem was still trying to understand her place in the Armada. She held a high rank, but the stipulations were intense.

”Poem Destruction, the Warlord’s apprentice and Adversary Heir.” She explained, wondering if there was more to the young Klein’s question. What had she seen when their eyes met? ”Who are you?” She returned, ”I don't believe we’ve met before…” She pressed carefully.

i pave my own path Banshee stared searchingly until the stranger met her gaze. Their eyes locked and Ban instantly felt a heat rise to her cheeks. 'I must have looked like a crazy lady.' Flashbacks to Cordelia and even the glazed over eyes of her own mother came forth. Banshee shook them off as she took in the formal title of the young femme before her. Poem Destruction, the Warlord’s apprentice and Adversary Heir. The Klein offered a simple nod towards the gal as she thought over the rank. Banshee had never heard of the babe so it came to a surprise that she had claimed the rank of heir. That meant if Zee or Sirius became unable to lead the crown would be passed to the stranger before her. The thought interested her but she assumed if the brutish warlord trusted the slate and obsidian yearling then she would have to learn to. After only a moment Banshee allowed a gentle grin to appear upon her inky lips. Those abrasive fangs in full view as she began to speak, "I don't believe we have either. A pause. "I am Banshee Klein." She hadn't been tilted just yet. As of that moment she was a mere member of Ashen but soon she would speak to Sirius about her future. "You looked familiar.. Which is why I was oogling at you." Ban shook her head with a very soft snicker. "A friend of mine and you have very similar eyes. It startled me for a moment." Speech

Poem didn’t know why she had been placed in this position either, Sirius was a mystery to her. He said he thought she had potential but did he really think that she was going to want to serve him after her time promised was through? Maybe he gave her the impressive rank so that she would stay and serve under him. She shook her head inwardly, it didn't matter. All she had to do was survive the Warlord for a year and she could return to her home.

She didn’t know if it was because of her rank or her position under Sirius but the other yearling didn’t hesitate to speak up. She explained similarly that she didn’t believe they’d met, offered her name with no title which was interesting. As she suspected, she was another Klein and she thought she had been recognized. ”Nice to meet you,” she offered back, wondering who might have similar eyes. ”Ta.. My father says they’re just like my grandmother’s.” She explained rather innocently. ”Maybe you met my sister? She was here not too long ago..” Not that she could see her poor timid sister becoming friends with any of the wolves here. Noir was more likely to buddy up than Motif.

i pave my own path Banshee shifted her weight ever so slightly as she took in the babe's form. Poem was beautiful to say the least but their fur coloration different so much. Ban was warm toned and riddled with patches of albinism. The other was slate with lilac hued ivory, mostly cool tones other then the purple in her eyes. They were on two different spectrums and little did Banshee know that was relevant with their personalities as well. The Kleins were hard and full of dramatics. Wolves not many outsiders would understand. Perhaps that is why they kept to their inner circles so much. The yearling inwardly shook the thoughts of her odd family as she listened to her new acquaintance speak. First a pleasantry then an antidote about Poem's grandmother. The eyes seemed to be prevalent in her family which was clued by her assumption that Banshee had met her sister. "No. His name is Iroh.. A boy from the Empire in Auster." The explanation of her friend was so bland and plain, nothing that really defined the image of him. He was so much more. "I don't think I had the chance of encountering your sister... Where is she now?" Surely Poem's sibling would be in Ashen as well. Speech

Poem came from a long line of kind hearted wolves who fought wholley for what they believed to be right and good. Following along in their paw steps was second nature to the young Destruction. She never craved power, only strength to be able to protect the ones she loved. Like she had been unable to do for Motif. However, Mo was not the wolf Banshee spoke of. She perked her dark ears curiously, and the Klein girl explained. Iroh.. it could have been one of the wolves from her father’s side, but that wouldn’t really explain his eyes. Maybe it was a fluke. ”Oh, I see.” She answered, but she didn’t know of the boy she spoke of either.

”She is home, in Abaven.” Poem explained realizing as the words came out of her mouth that she was likely speaking too freely. She couldn’t know if this girl would report back to Sirius, or even what he’d do with the information. ”She was.. in the Warlord’s care, but she wasn’t meant for a place like this. I traded myself so she could be with our family.” Only barely did Poem contain her emotions, but she might have allowed a wince to show through. Losing her mother hurt through her core, and she was far from through with her mourning.