With a yawn Valentine flopped down beside one of the forest's huge trees. He'd decided that he needed to get out more. The thing with old folks was that they tended to sit still and fossilize, and then it was all downhill from there. If you didn't use it you lost it and Valentine hated losing in any context. He was not going to become a shriveled husk of a man. There was going to be no "the man he used to be" versus "the man he is now". That goal was what motivated him to attend the festival.

What motivated him to lay where he was now was his love of people watching. So far he hadn't been keen on participating in any of the offered events but boy did he love the shit out of watching them. It looked like the wolves were preparing for some kind of fight tourney and to say he was ready for it was an understatement. He was hoping some of his family would show so he would have someone fun to spectate with.

Theory had been wandering around the woods, enjoying the peace and quiet. The trees seemed to soften any noise and the mystery of it all was a bit enchanting. She was glad that the pups had tagged along to the festival - they could certainly use a break from the ordinary. All of them could. Their wounds as a pack had just begun to heal. Although she knew that she'd never replace Shaye, she felt as if she was beginning to grow into herself just a small bit more. Inch by inch. As she walked she kept her eyes peeled for the telltale dots below the eyes of other wolves. It seemed that she was always running into "extended family" at these kind of gatherings and their reactions varied from mutual curiosity to absolute disgust. She knew now that Rhyme had been cast out for his liaisons with Shaye. Although it confused her, it had created Poem and Motif, and so she couldn't bring herself to disapprove. Her sisters were precious to her.

There! Beneath a tree Theory saw the familiar facial markings on the face of a grizzled older wolf. Unlike some elders she'd met, he seemed to be in fairly good shape beyond the typical signs of aging. Curious. Everyone that she'd met before had been much younger, closer to her own age. Did he know her father as well? She trotted closer. "Hello. Enjoying the festival?" she asked, her ears pricked with obvious interest.

His youngest son, Tyrian, was running around the festival grounds somewhere, but Valentine had seen neither hide nor hair of him. Which was a shame, really, because they had a similar sense of humor and Valentine was certain the youth would get a kick out of his commentary. Alas, it seemed he would have to poke fun at the contestants all by himself.  He'd make due, of course, and have himself an entertaining little party for one if necessary.

Or maybe not. Another youth approached, one he'd met before. Now, where had he met her...ah yes, that firefly festival...thing. She was one of Rhyme's. Valentine wracked his brain trying to remember if he'd caught her name. He didn't think he had. Well, that didn't matter too much, did it? If he got the impression he should know her name he could always fake a frail elderly wolf moment, maybe shake a little for good measure, and that would no doubt smooth over this faux pas.

Valentine grunted amusedly, then said, "There haven't been nearly enough brawls for my liking, but it's alright as far as tame gatherings go." He shrugged, the corners of his mouth curling upwards in a small tart smile. "That doesn't quite answer your question, though, does it? Let's see...if I had to choose between staying home and doing nothing or coming here...I'd come here. So I must be enjoying it well enough."

He certainly was a salty old man. Theory took a liking to his crass nature - it was a change of pace from Abaven, that was for sure. A brawl would certainly spice things up, but she had a few little ones running around representing the pack and would have hated for them to get caught in the crossfire. Theo had the feeling that this old man would find that to build character. Maybe she was handling them too gently. She blinked balefully as he fully answered her question. "Well, was it quite a hike for you?" she replied, a glint of mirth in her eyes. "Old bones and all that." They didn't have many elders in her pack, although for a pained moment, she figured that her own father might as well be considered an elder. Not yet. He was still her honorable beta, even if he wasn't always fully mentally present.

When he didn't offer his name, she didn't ask nor supply her own. She could play that game. "How have your lands been faring since the volcano?" Her unspoken question: any casualties? Theory settled down nearby. Abaven was so filled with youth that she hadn't had much of a chance to glean much wisdom from older wolves since Shaye had passed, aside from her healing lessons witb Rhyme. He was so preoccupied that she tried not to bother him much. She wouldn't ask for much from Valentine. Just a conversation

He made a rough noise in the back of his throat, a playful scoff if she could see past his sour expression, and then answered her first question. "It was a sizeable distance, but I assure you, these old bones did just fine." The pokes at his age had long ago worn thin. But even though his smugness at whipping all the young naysayers would surely warm him, it wouldn't do much else so there wasn't really a point, was there? He'd save fights for those who really irked him and this young playful grandkid didn't. Or, rather, she hadn't thus far.

The question about their lands required a bit more thought. He hadn't gone back to the old Imperium lands since the fire that had forced them to flee. But it hadn't been in the best of shape when he'd left so it was probably safe to say it all still looked like garbage. Which was a shame because he was of the opinion they were the best lands Boreas had to offer.

Valentine waffled for a second and then answered honestly, "I don't know. Had a fire in the beginning that forced us to relocate and we - I at least - haven't been there since. As for the pack itself, we got lucky. We're all good. The rest, I'm sure, are just as eager to be back as I am." He eyed Theory for a second, then offered, "How's yours? I heard about Shaye."

"I don't doubt that you're capable," she laughed. It was true. He was fit for his age, his body in good condition. You didn't maintain muscle mass if you didn't use it. He'd aged smartly. Theory had a feeling he did most things that way - smart. "Oh," she said softly, the light in her eyes dimming as he mentioned the fire. Every land had felt the touch of flame last year. It was inescapable, like the rising and setting of the sun. "The land will recover," she added, trying to sound more hopeful than she felt. Abaven had already seen the recovery and repeated decimation of the thicket. How many times could it regrow? "I've heard that the ash is restorative. I'm hoping it will return the earth to us more fertile than it was before. Our thicket has already been razed twice," she said ruefully. Would he even care?

Oh. Perhaps he did care. I heard about Shaye. "Yes... we're all still feeling that loss. Heavily." Now that they had reached a comfortable impasse, Theory laid down on the ground next to Valentine and settled in for a longer conversation. It felt strange to talk like this. They were related, but there as an impassable barrier between them. Theo could feel it, almost as if it was a real wall that she could touch and see. "Rhyme hasn't been the same. My mother died when I was young, and even when she was alive... well, Shaye was more of a mother to me than she ever was." She watched and waited for his reaction. Theory knew that Rhyme's "unique" relationship with Shaye was a point of contention for many of his relatives. Despite Theory's general wariness and confusion on the matter, she would defend Shaye's honor to anyone.

That Abaven had burned twice was news to him, but not surprising. The land, it seemed, was as prone to melodrama as its people. "Perhaps. Nature has a way of rebuilding, but I wouldn't put too much hope in it returning to what it was before." It was likely the balance of plant life had shifted. It would be an arms race to see who could put down roots and spread out the fastest.

In response to her comment about still feeling the loss Valentine simply nodded. Though he had been largely indifferent to Shaye save for the occasional well deserved eye roll, it was clear her people had loved her. Though he had come here to provide rude commentary to the fights he was trying his best to rein in his tongue for this grandkid's sake, at least as far as her grief went. If she dipped into any other topic he held derision for there was no guarantee he'd make himself behave.

Ah, so this one hadn't been whelped by Shaye. That meant she belonged to the sentient wart. Valentine was not at all surprised Theory's mother had ended up being as good a mother as she had been beautiful. Shocker. Who would have thought a sniveling ho midget would make a terrible caregiver? He didn't know the particulars but Valentine was willing to bet that puppy-Theory would have found anyone with whelping hardware to be a better mother than her actual mother. Not that he was necessarily knocking Shaye there. He just thought that little of the ugly little beast he'd glimpsed at Rhyme's side.

It also was no surprise to him that Rhyme wasn't doing well. No doubt losing Shaye - since the two had clearly been so close - had been hard on him. Valentine didn't fault him for grieving. That was a natural response to loss. "I'm not surprised the loss hit him hard," he offered carefully. Though his thoughts had been nasty he'd deliberately kept his expression neutral so the breadth of his disgust would remain hidden from her. Best not to start anything there. "It was sudden, wasn't it?"

This must be Valentine then. The dots connected in Theory's head to finally make a complete picture. It took a little bit more self control than she expected to resist the urge to nod to herself. Everything made a little bit more sense now. It was increasingly strange to think that this was her grandfather. Trying to ignore the particularly itchy, stranger-than-fiction feeling that the entire encounter gave her, Theory focused on the conversation at hand. "I don't expect it to be the same. In fact, I want to... well, I want to leave. Move the pack somewhere that you can't even see the volcano's peak," she said wistfully. "Maybe the regrowth will change the landscape enough that it will be as if we're living in a new place. As it stands, most of my time in our territory feels like retracing my steps back and forth over the same graves." Her voice was flat and affect less. It was true. She hadn't shared these feelings with anyone but Corvus, and even then, she'd painted it like a prettier picture... but something told her Valentine might understand where she was coming from.

"Yes, it was sudden," she replied, side-eyeing him just a bit. Hadn't he been the one to cast Rhyme out of the family for fraternizing with Shaye? Theo was surprised that he was maintaining a moderate level of civility, but she appreciated it. She was in no mood to pick fights with her actual grandpa over ghosts and family history. "Landslide. She was buried alive next to Odysseus in the aftermath of the volcano." Theory still found it difficult to talk about. Much of the days immediately after discovering Shaye's body were a blur. Endless hours of digging until her paws were bloody, endless hours spent screaming into the yawning hole they excavated to recover her body. Shaye had wanted to be buried next to Vail, she'd made that explicitly clear. Theory would have sooner died than left that wish unfulfilled. There were small stretches of time when she was deep in the pit that she wished she could fall down dead on top of them both.

"She's buried next to Vail. That's part of what roots us to the land, I suppose. Everyone is buried there. It's not like you can try and rationalize yourself to the dead," she said, ending the sentence with a biting laugh. "But Rhyme has been doing better in recent weeks. We've been talking more about the past. He's mentioned his mother..." she trailed off, letting Valentine fill in the blank.

Valentine listened intently as Theory spoke. In his youth he'd been faced with challenges of his own as an alpha. They hadn't been the sort that she was facing now but he knew what it was like for responsibility to weigh heavily on the shoulders. Later in life he'd dealt with grief. First in some form with the disappearance of Rhythm and Rhyme, then the loss of Imperium, then Cascade. Only the last bore close similarity to Theory's situation. The loss of his best friend - his one true friend, it turns out - had been devastating. She'd gone too soon and left the world filled with far too many coyotes.

"Considering all the shit," he was not going to spare her here, "Those lands have seen it's not a bad idea to consider moving. And Serpent Plains, really? I always thought that was a shit place to live. Who voluntarily moves into a land that promises an abundance of snakes? That's like standing on the edge of Flood-Often Canyon and going 'oh yeah here's the perfect place to raise a family'." A dumbass, that's who, but Bass had always been more heart than brain.

He couldn't remember if he knew who the fuck Vail was. The name sounded vaguely familiar but if he was a Destruction the odds of him being memorable enough for Valentine to remember were slim to none. At this point he had too few fucks left to waste them on soft and cuddly nobodies. Valentine nodded in agreement. "The dead give no fucks. They will neither mourn your loss if you move nor celebrate if you stay." Unless you visited Somnium and rat yourself out, but details. "It's the living who care and it's the living who must decide what is best for themselves. Whether or not that is staying for the sentiment or going for the mental health - or opportunity - is something only you know." He shrugged apathetically. That was his wisdom for the day. She could take it or leave it. He didn't care which. This was, after all, Abaven, and he expected she would follow whatever high emotion decision-making protocol the Destruction alphas were known for.

As for Rhyme mentioning his mother... Interesting. Perhaps he was finally having a change of heart for the old woman. It was about damn time. Rhythm had done nothing wrong and considering their history of years with the slavers it surprised Valentine that the big angsty tit was just now coming around to reaccepting the one person who had been with him when no one else could be. He would have thought that experience would have bound those two together, but he was often disappointed with Rhyme's ability to reason and think critically so why Valentine had been surprised by his son's rejection of Rhythm was a mystery even to Valentine. "Hm," he grunted. "Has he finally decided he can stomach the sight of her face?" Ah HA! Vail was that lady that got married that one time with the booze and the midget server. Remembering was better late than never, right? He still had it. No senility in this old bird.

The dead give no fucks. "Hear, hear," Theory murmured in assent. Although she felt guilty on Shaye's behalf, she no longer held any grief for Tana. The woman had been a poor and absent mother. Theo only mourned the loss of the childhood she could have had. She couldn't help but chuckle at Valentine's assessment of Serpent Plains, even if she was quite fond of the place. He certainly wasn't wrong. The acerbic and irreverent remarks were a welcome change of pace, although she could tell that it might wear on your soul after a while. It wasn't a wonder that Rhyme and his father weren't close. In fact, if she was pressed, Theory wasn't sure if she could come up with two more different individuals - at least from first brush. Of course she knew her father much better than she did Valentine, but she wasn't sure she'd ever heard her dad say fuck.

"Stomach her face?" she replied quizzically. "He mentioned that she... well, that she chose you. He seemed despondent over it," Theory shrugged, peering at Valentine out of the corner of her eyes. What would he think of that? She knew better than most that parents were individuals with their own hopes, dreams, and hurts. Theo didn't - and couldn't - know the particulars of the choice Rhythm had made. There must have been personal motivations for the decision.

Valentine couldn't decide if the girl was playing dumb or if Rhyme was that much of a jackass so his first response was a derisive noise in the back of his throat. He shook his head in disgust. The schism between himself and Rhyme he could handle. It was his son's rejection of someone who clearly loved him unconditionally that rankled the old man. "In that regard his sorrow is of his own making," he said tartly. And he did not have Valentine's sympathy.

"But I didn't come here to talk about my angsty son." He crossed his forelegs and eyed Theory speculatively. She had approached him, not the other way around, and he couldn't help but wonder if there had been a purpose behind it. Curiosity, plain and simple or did she had another reason? And please for the love of god don't let it be Rhyme and his whiny bullshit. Valentine would rather hang off a ledge by his sack than talk about poor sad Rhyme.