Rhyme wasn’t coping. He wasn’t eating, didn’t sleep, and barely spoke. Were it not for his responsibilities in the pack he might not have lifted himself from his den. Once bright blue and lavender eyes held a foggy sheen and his fur was dull from neglect. Still his tall frame moved over the borders of Abaven’s temporary homestead.

A part of him died with Shaye that day, and the once mighty Raven Knight was felled low. Imperia and Solitude did their best to keep him moving, they couldn’t force him to eat or sleep but somehow the ravens convinced him to drink when fresh water was provided. He slowed now, his heart wrenching as Shaye’s stale scent filled his senses. Her den. Rhyme sobbed heavily, unable to continue as he collapsed at the entrance of the sacred place.

He didn’t move for a long time, and tears fell from his eyes until he’d dried himself out. Still the man would weep for what he lost. ”No. No, no, no…” He tried to deny truth, but the sight of her lifeless form would not leave him. Rhyme grit his teeth and pressed his forehead against the earth, a place her paws had touched.

”No, what?”

Rhyme froze, blinking open his eyes as he stared at the ground in front of his face. Deep deep down he knew it couldn’t be real, but his weakened mind was quick to cling to her. Slowly Rhyme lifted his head, carefully shifting his gaze behind him. He knew he heard her voice, and he swore he saw a glimpse of her blue feather. ”Shaye?” It couldn’t be, but it had to be. Rhyme lifted himself eagerly to his paws and raced after the phantom.

His heart thundered in his chest as he wrestled with reality, and all at once his doubts were quelled. The whole world stopped. Rhyme didn’t breathe as his eyes fell on her beautiful form, her bright eyes gazed back at him and she wore a glittering smile. She looked better than she had in seasons. ”Shaye.” Relief flooded through him and he surged forward to embrace her. She helped to close the distance and she was wrapped in his arms again. ”Shaye.” He cried, but for different reasons now. She hadn’t left him, she was here, his family was whole.

He held her for a long time, and the two of them remained silent as he struggled with the sudden joy he felt. All too soon she was pulling away from him. ”Someone is coming, don’t tell anyone. Okay? I love you, I’ll find you again soon.” She promised him, offering a chaste kiss upon his cheek before her tall frame disappeared behind the trees. Rhyme was left in a complete daze, no better off than before he had experienced the hallucination.

Theory hadn't spent much time on Ibis since they'd made the partial move back to the mainland. Some of the puppies were still being cared for here, but she trusted their remaining caretakers to do their duty. It was hard to place blind faith in anything any more, but her pack members she would trust implicitly. They had all taken Shaye's death hard, especially Vail's brood - and how could they not? Their family had been cruelly ripped from them before anyone could possibly be ready. No doubt they'd feel the repercussions of this difficult year for the rest of their lives, just like she carried Tana's death somewhere deep in the recesses of her heart.

Rhyme had been faring no better. Seeing her father in such a sorry state made a mess of her feelings. Part of her yearned for him to be stronger now, for her sake, but he had lost so much. One daughter had been returned only to say a bitter goodbye to the other. Shaye and Tana's death. Noir's rejection on Abaven's way of life and by extension his entire family. Her father had suffered more than all of them. She'd tracked him back to the island, following his harried steps. There had to be something she could do to distract him - if only for a moment. Theo found him almost by accident; his fresh scent criss-crossed the island so many times that she'd gotten turned around. He was standing completely still, engrossed in something she couldn't see or understand. "Dad?" She called softly. Not Rhyme - she didn't need him. Theory needed her father.

He didn’t stand still for very long, but it seemed like an eternity, his inner self, his full conscious, the logical part of him, knew what he believed to be wrong. Shaye was gone, no matter how sweet the delusion it was not reality. Rhyme continued to reject reality, He had Shaye all to himself, nothing happened to her, she was bright and vibrant and here. Because if she wasn’t…

Glassy blue and lavender eyes shifted to take in Theory’s tall frame, her resemblance to Shaye made him perk. As her voice reached him he’d realize he was looking at his daughter and not the one he craved. He pulled back his lips as much as he could in polite greeting. It was fake though, joy had left him.

”Theo,” he said softly, his voice missing much of the power it once had. Rhyme didn’t want to be laid so low, but the blow he was dealt was too much. Even for him. Shaye was his soul mate, and his time with her had been greatly cut short. They were supposed to ride off into the sunset together when their daughters were old enough to take over. They were going to live out the rest of their days together. Rhyme couldn’t accept that she had left him.

She could tell something was amiss, but there weren't any days left that were normal any more. They just had to adjust. Pushing past the strange detached smile that lingered on her father's face, she padded closer to him and nudged his shoulder affectionately. It still surprised her that she could look levelly into his eyes; she could have never guessed one day she'd be this tall. She felt much smaller on the inside. "I've decided in this difficult times to try and learn more about healing and herbs," she said, plowing right on through to the point. Maybe if they cut to specifics quickly, she'd be able to bring him back down to reality. He seemed to be floating somewhere outside of his body. "I know you're an expert and I was hoping you could teach me." Please. I need this. We need this.

She was quick to draw up next to him, and though exhausted he knew that he was letting Theory down. She was a yearling, she shouldn’t have been in the position she was trying to support the pack as much as she was. An alphas job was demanding, even more so when you were inexperienced as his daughter. And she didn’t have him to lean on. He was weak, and he’d found his breaking point.

He sighed heavily and leaned against her touch, her words quickly finding their way to his ears. There was no mention of anything more than difficult times and Rhyme felt himself able to focus himself despite his lack of sleep. Healing and herbs. These were things he knew since puphood. Though he was never an excellent healer he learned a lot through experience and age.

”I can teach you,” he offered simply enough. His words were sure even if his gaze didn’t quite focus. ”What do you know?” Rhyme asked, his mind working better with a real goal. ”So I can gauge where we start.” For a brief moment he fleshed back to a time long long ago. His mother, young, vibrant, and fully sighted seated between himself and a yearling Shaye. She’d taught both of them some of their very first lessons. Those joyous moments were a far cry from the sorrow that brought Theory to him today.

Rhyme focused his gaze, leaving Imperium’s meadow and returning to the smoke skied hell they were in today. He couldn’t bring himself to say the words, but deep in his heart where his conscious was being kept prisoner he begged Theory for forgiveness that she’d been forced through so much grief. Forced to be stronger than any yearling ought to be.

"I don't know anything... just common sense things. What not to do. Basic poisonous plants." Rhyme would be working with a blank slate. Theory was so inexperienced with herbs that she had only the general knowledge that most wolves picked up as they grew - don't eat that, don't touch this. "But I'm a quick learner," she assured him, as if he didn't know. Theo nudged his cheek and gestured towards the scrubby forest that ringed the clearing they were currently sitting in. "Have you found anything particularly useful here on the islands? They seem to be green enough." She knew there was plenty of foliage about, but none of its uses - most of the grasses here were safe to eat, and sometimes berries could be found, although the ash seemed to have stunted the growth of just about everything.

"Will the ash effect the plants for very long?" The fire had led to better growth in the thicket, but she wasn't sure at all about ashes. There was no telling what the lands would look like next season. Verdant, she hoped, but Theo wanted to be prepared for all eventualities.

Theory kept him focused, enough that a semblance of normalcy fell over him. Drifting into the fog would be easier as the days went by, for now he could focus on his daughter and what she needed to learn. There wasn’t much she already knew, this was going to be starting from the bare bottom basics. He knew very well that she was a fast learner, and he hated that she was forced to learn some things too soon. Rhyme expertly avoided the thoughts as she went on asking about the island what plants he’d found and what the ash would do in the long term.

”Then we’ll start from the beginning.” He’d teach her the very basics, what everyone needed to know about battle wounds or tending the run of the mill puncture. ”We’ll get into the harvesting here soon, there’s a bit of unique items here.” He assured her as he followed her gaze into the woods. ”Once the ask is out of the sky it will be much better for the land below. It will all be quickly absorbed into the dirt.” The land would be better for it, even if they were not.

”So, to get started.. Make sure your wounds are clean. Be conscious of how easy infection can set in. My favorite sterilizer is alcohol, but if you have a fire you can also use heat.” The later option was more painful, but cauterizing a wound could mean the difference between life and death. ”Cauterizing works well to stop bleeding too.”

Cleanliness made sense. She'd seen and smelled infection before - there had been so many burns in the wake of the fire that was she intimately familiar with that particular kind of stench and pus. Theory pricked her ears forward and listened carefully, glad to see her father slipping back into some semblance of normalcy. She wanted to give him her full attention. His words about the sky soothed her somewhat, although it was difficult to imagine clear skies again. Ash had been pouring forth for so long that it was becoming difficult to imagine a time when the air was clear and fresh. Surely it wasn't that long ago, right?

"Alcohol, hm?" Theory mused. "Is it so easy to come by?" It wasn't something she had much experience with. She wasn't even sure if it occurred naturally or something you had to craft. There was so much she didn't know. The weight of everything she didn't know suddenly seemed crushing. Knowledge was power and she was pitifully weak. Theory took a deep breath and turned her eyes towards the sky, still so dim and grey. Ash fluttered down like winter's first snow squall even though she kept telling herself it was spring. "Cauterizing... that sounds painful," she added. A healer's job seemed much more complicated than she had originally guessed. The road to wellness was a tightrope between causing more pain and alleviating symptoms.

Shifting his mind away from loss and towards work and teaching helped to clear his mind. It wouldn’t last, and he was far from recovered, but being able to distance himself from his warped grief was like a breath of fresh air. Teaching Theo was a sanctuary he could rest in while doing his duty to the pack.

”It’s relatively easy to brew,” Rhyme froze as the memory of he and Shaye sharing a bottle that fateful night filled his mind. His heart nearly stopped and he remained still. Mouth slightly agape and his eyes focused on nothing that lingered in current reality. Losing Shaye was a blow that wouldn’t be recovered from quickly. A soft whine left him as he struggled to gain control of his mind. Then suddenly, as though the moment never happened, he returned to his lesson. ”But when fruit drops to the ground sometimes it will ferment naturally.”

Rhyme nodded as Theo mentioned the pain in the practice of heat treatment. ”It’s not pleasant, and it smells. Best to be used on patients that have already passed out from bloodloss or pain. If you have some strong sedatives.. or restraints.” He added hesitantly. He didn’t like to use the method unless absolutely necessary and he had the proper tools.

It was difficult to watch him come in and out of direct consciousness. At certain moments he slipped away, somewhere far beyond her grasp. She didn't chastise him or ask where his mind wandered - it would be better to focus on the present, right? Theory rooted herself to this moment. This was something she would want to remember. Theo noted his advice on alcohol, remembering the particular strange smell that sometimes wafted from fallen fruit. Fermentation. She cataloged his terms, knowing that they might be important later.

"What functions as a strong sedative?" Theo asked, peering at him curiously. Most of the pack had escaped unscathed, but some of them had suffered serious burns from the fire. She'd been one of the lucky ones. There had to be some wolves that were sedated due to the severity of their burns. Would she be able to rise to the occasion if another disaster hit? The thought made her stomach churn.

He didn’t mean to do this to his daughter, but his weakness was showing through. Theory didn’t deserve to hold both of their grief on herself. His soul was torn apart, but having his daughter here providing a welcome distraction. She was a good pupil and seemed to take in the information he offered to her. Hopefully she would learn quickly and move on with her desire to heal the pack.

Sedatives enough to incapacitate your patient were difficult to come by, but they were out there. ”You can make a tea, from poppy seeds. Use it sparingly though, its a substance that’s easy to give an overdose with.” He warned carefully, knowing more than one had occurred in his time with the slavers, but it had been recreational use rather than sedation to tend to wounds. ”Give a little bit, no more than a petient’s dewclaw’s worth at first. Wait, see if they need more and add the same amount. Do that until they’re in a state you want them to be in.”

She nodded a bit as she absorbed the information. His knowledge ran deep and from the way he paused between sentences, she could tell that he was drawing on personal experience. "How did you come to know so much?" Theo asked carefully. It was a leading question, perhaps, but she was curious about her father's past. There wasn't much that she really knew about Rhyme, besides his disposition towards pretty, dark-furred females. Bleh. Men. Otherwise, his past was mostly a mystery. "Did you always live in Abaven?" Her thoughts strayed towards her unaccounted for siblings. Noir and Verse had left willingly but that didn't assuage the pain of losing them. Theo felt like she'd been a bad sister to them but realistically she knew their motivations were more complicated. Verse had been more attached to Tana than any of them and Noir had always had... problems. Wherever they were, Theo hoped they were safe. Even Noir.

Rhyme felt odd drifting into the past as Theory asked her questions in innocence. He let go of his present self and delved into a long life lived. He had waited a long time to open up about his past and her ancestors, little known to him she had met many of them. ”Your grandmother, Rhythm.” Rhyme wasn’t sure how he felt about his parents anymore. Numb? In his mind his mother chose his father over him and his father chose his name over his son. He didn’t want to see Valentine again, let alone speak with him. He’d judged his grandchildren before he’d even met them. Rhyme didn’t believe Valentine had a right to see them grow up after that.

Now that they were a year old he wouldn’t try and hide the past from them. They were old enough to lead a pack, they could decide who they wanted in their life. ”No, I’ve only been in Abaven for a couple of years.” He sighed heavily and settled down. ”Before that I was held captive along with my mother. For a long time.” His gaze was distant as his past flashed before his eyes. All the atrocities witness, all of them that he had committed… ”I was born in a pack called Imperium. Led by your grandfather, Valentine.” He offered the simple tale, slightly in a daze as he spilled out his story. She could ask all the questions she wanted, and he would answer.

His tales shocked her. Theory couldn't help her eyes from widening. Imagining Rhyme not living in Abaven felt like a fairy-tale or some kind of alternate universe. Theo clung to her ancestor's names and committed them to memory. Maybe they would come in handy some day. Her entire perspective on her father suddenly took a sharp left turn and barreled straight over the edge of a cliff; she couldn't tell which way was up or down any more. "Cap...tive?" she stuttered. How could her father - her strong, wise, kind father - be held in chains by anyone? Her stomach began to turn. If Poem had been captured she supposed that anything could happen. Such evil lurked in this world.

"I haven't heard that name yet. Imperium," she said tentatively. Occasionally packs formed and dissolved, like the Olympia she'd heard of and the trading pack that had once brokered a deal with Shaye. Her view was warped by Abaven's unwavering presence in the land. Not even a volcano could tear them apart. Through fire and brimstone, they persisted. She'd never let the pack fall apart, not while she had breath in her lungs. "How did you get... captured?" Theo asked, her voice soft and a little bit scared.

His presence was a little light, but he could still understand the difference in his daughter as he divulged his past. She was surprised at his captivity, but he had been too. Theory hadn’t heard the name Imperium and he was half surprised but also half not. He’d kept them sheltered the first year of their life. Kept them away from their heritage for what he believed was their own good. Their lives were much harder than he expected them to be, especially these days. Rhyme wouldn’t hold anything back anymore, now that Theory was curious she would get all of the answers she looked for.

The conversation didn’t move far from his time as a slave. For too long he’d been held against his will. He’d left as soon as he’d been able to get himself and his mother from the vile creatures. ”I was younger than you are now.” He started softly, the memories he brought up had long lay dormant. ”I was gathering herbs with your Grandmother when we were ambushed. I fought hard, but they took her sight and threatened her life if I did not go easily.” He couldn’t risk his mom’s life. He’d forgotten how hard he’d fought for her at the time, and how foolish he’d been to turn her away at the beginning of his children’s lives.

More importantly he was becoming more highly aware of the damage he was causing now in his wallowing.

"Her sight...? Where is she now?" Theory asked urgently, refusing to believe that this woman was dead. She hungered for the presence of another female in her life. With her sisters gone she'd become morose and withdrawn, focusing only on the pack. She could feel herself slipping further away from any sense of individuality. Delving deeper into her father's history - and her own - helped ground her. It made everything a little bit more real. But how could she be alive after all this time? Rhyme was getting on in years, surely Rhythm had passed on before him. Otherwise she'd be in Abaven, enjoying a peaceful, retired life. Right? "I don't understand," she sputtered. "If she's not here, she must be dead." Theory didn't know Rhyme to give up on family. Not even Noir, who had been rightfully punished but not turned away for his heinous crime.

Theory was confused about Rhythm’s whereabouts and he couldn’t blame her. By all rights she should have been here, but she chose Valentine over him and his children. She’d vowed to him loyalty, and even though it had been Rhyme that remained with her all those years as captives she still went to Valentine. He tried to drown the thoughts, but Theory was persistent. He wasn’t holding anything back from her anymore. She needed to know.

”She’s alive.” He would know if she passed, he had no doubt about that. ”Rhythm lives in Legion with Valentine.” He told her softly, still feeling the sting of when she returned to Legion after knowing that Valentine had disowned him.

"Well... why is that?" She said, dumbfounded. How could he let his mother, old as she probably was, return to somewhere he couldn't keep an eye on her? "That doesn't seem right. Why isn't she here?" Theo added, more than a little bit frustrated with how her father seemed so distracted. It was as if he was telling her the story from another point of view. But he was clearly hurting over it, that much she could tell. "Is there anything we can do about it?" Something seemed like this needed to be fixed. She couldn't just leave it alone.

Rhyme took in a deep breath, explaining himself to Theory in his current state was difficult but even in his foggy state he didn’t want to keep anything from her. She questioned why Rhythm remained in Legion instead of being with them. Why did anyone do what they did? Could they do anything about it? Rhyme wasn’t sure, not about Rhymth and not about what he could do to soothe his daughter’s mind. ”After Valentine took the Imperialis name she chose to stand beside him instead of stand with me and my children.” He spoke softly, it had hurt turning away from her that day, especially after they’d been through so much together. She’d been his support for so many years, for her to turn to Valentine instead of supporting him.. ”I don’t know. I haven’t tried to do anything.” He’d dropped his relationship with them, neither of them deserved to see his children grow up. Rhyme would never keep them from them now that they could form their own opinions, but he stood by his decision to step back.

"Well... it's never too late," she said, albeit a little awkwardly. It still felt strange to be in a position where she was comforting him. He had been her protector for so long, strong and resolute. Now it was her time to let him lean on her a little bit. Theory sat beside him and nudged his ruff affectionately, breathing in that familiar scent. The road he'd walked had been a lonely one. She understood a little bit better now why he might have turned to Shaye for comfort. Despite it all, it had lost him his family. His name. Theo knew he didn't regret it, not for a moment. He loved Poem and Motif too deeply to let the thought even cross his mind. But what was he missing out on? "What does that name mean to you now? Imperialis?" Theo asked.