Tornach, for the first time since he'd been young, had been truly happy. He'd been in love, he'd had his new flock of sheep and a new nomadic lifestyle, and despite his limp and his scarred visage, he'd been happy.

But he'd found happiness much too late in life, and time had taken his love away from him far too soon and left him bereft. The sudden drop back into a lonely existence that he'd never minded before he had discovered what it was to have more, aged him more than his injuries ever had. If it hadn't been for his companions, he may have simply laid down one day and not gotten back up.

As it was, he drifted through the days like a ghost, hardly noticing the world around him. When one day the flock passed by the body of an older female, he barely glanced at it before following along behind the meandering sheep. Just another victim of a world that cared nothing for individuals and simply swallowed up their lives without thought. It was only when movement caused the sheep to shy away suddenly from the body that he gave a second glance. It wasn't, after all, often that dead bodies suddenly moved.

His second glance caught the minty-green gaze of a small pup peeking out from under the limp foreleg of the body. Though the eyes of the fuzzy pup were wide and the ears pressed against the small head by the foreleg, there was no fear in the pup's gaze. Just a calm, quiet acceptance. How many other wolves had walked past the body and left the pup to starve rather than take on the responsibility of someone else's pup, to fill that young mind with the knowledge that no one was going to ever stop to help? For the pup to have accepted that as fact without any judgement of the wolves who had ignored the sight?

Tornach could not walk away.

Taking care of the pup had done much to heal the emptiness Kestrel's disappearance from his life had left in him. Corbie took to his nomadic life following the sheep like a fish to water, and with her calm, firm manner even as a pup she did well handling them. What she'd learned from her mother before her death mixed easily with what she learned from Tornach, and the unique person that she grew into constantly left Tornach proud to be her guardian.

But everything came to an end eventually.

Though it had been some time since he'd been a practicing healer, he was still well trained in it. Trained enough to recognize the truth - he was dying. He regretted now his solitary lifestyle, because his death would leave the young Corbie alone again just as surely as her mother's death had. So, driving the flock far from the luxurious grasslands they'd grown used to, across a desert, he had brought Corbie to the borders of his niece's pack.

Now he lifted his muzzle to call for Aurielle, as Tam worked to keep the sheep gathered a polite distance away out of earshot.

Corbie knew her guardian was dying.

Tornach would not have been able to hide his body's rapidly deteriorating condition even if they hadn't had a policy of honesty with one another. He'd already been elderly when he had rescued her, so it wasn't unexpected. But she'd grown quickly to love him as much as she'd loved her mother, and the impending loss weighed on her more and more as they'd grown closer to that inevitable end.

She knew why they were here, at his family's pack territory. He'd explained it as they'd traveled, and while she'd made it clear that she didn't feel the way he did about this, it was his life and his decision. Now they stood on the cusp of the moment, she stood quietly beside him, pressing her shoulder against his to comfort him, though her heart ached.

Tornach had lifted his muzzle and called out to the alpha that he'd told her was his niece. Corbie lifted her own head, soft green eyes surveying the wall on either side of the gap Tornach had led them to curiously.

Aurielle Adravendi

Winter’s touches were all around, though subtle. She was glad to see that, so far, the season wasn’t hitting the continent with the force of an angry bison cow or polar bear’s slap, but she wasn’t holding her breath for a perfect weathered season all the way through. Life didn’t go that smoothly. And when it came time for heartache, the world didn’t hold its punches. She’d gotten so little time with her eldest uncle – or elder uncle, she supposed, having only two – and she wished it were otherwise. He’d gone on his way a little while after he’d healed from the graphic injuries dealt by Volkan’s eruption, and she hadn’t seen him since. When his howl came, she sucked in a breath, first relief and joy, then a gut feeling that all was not well. She rose and took off at a brisk lope, nodding as Lyr dropped in and led the way before winging off to find Ardyn again. Would she even get time for her uncle to meet her children? She slowed to a floating trot then to a walk as she spotted him, studied him. Age was apparent on his form, the toll of long years. Not so long as her father’s, but still long. Baine had been in failing health, last she’d seen her, and the pale woman had vanished a time after Nolan’s death. Now, it seemed Tornach’s body was following that trail. "Uncail..." So much lost, wasted time. She moved forward, leaning to tuck her muzzle into her uncle’s shoulder if he allowed it before she drew in a breath and stepped back, glancing to the girl at his side with a nod, before looking back to her Uncle. She didn’t want to ask the question, but her eyes asked it anyway. And hoped against hope that this wasn’t going to be the last time she saw him alive. That she’d at least have time to spend before he was gone. Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Labhair an Sean-Teanga." ---- "Hear" ---- Think

Aurielle appeared promptly, and he returned her hug with an affectionate gesture of his own, though as always it pulled at the wicked scars. "Aurielle," he greeted, and continued in the common language rather than the old tongue he'd only ever used for affectionate nicknames for Corbie so that she wouldn't be excluded by their use of a language she didn't know. "It has been some time, hasn't it?" He shifted to beckon Corbie forward. "I wanted you to meet someone. Aurielle, this is Corbie Silverwind, my ward and apprentice for the last year. Corbie, this is my niece, Aurielle Adravendi, alpha of Valhalla. I've been teaching Corbie all I know about herding, and she's a more than competent hunter in her own right." He gave Corbie a soft smile, pride radiating from his single remaining eye, though his words were addressed to Aurielle. "She's been all but herding the sheep on her own these past weeks, with Tam's help, and she's learned all I know about remedies for the beasts." He brushed his cheek gently along Corbie's before speaking again. "Corbie, Aurielle is an experienced alpha. She took over from my elder brother when she was a yearling and has been handling Valhalla's affairs quite well ever since." He gave Aurielle a smile every bit as soft and proud as the one he'd given Corbie. "Your grandmother would be proud, I think," he said quietly to her. He might not have seen eye to eye with his mother on pack matters and ethics, but she'd brought Celestial together after they'd been through, and that was something to be respected, and he felt she'd have been pleased with the way her eldest son's line had handled it after her death. He knew this might be the last time he spoke with Aurielle - it felt important to him that she knew.

Corbie blinked at the female who came up to greet her mentor. Tornach had described her, but it wasn't quite the same as seeing a glowing, shimmery, longmaned, longhaired, fanged wolf cuddling with the very plain colored, scarred form of the Adravendi shepherd, though it at least kept her from startling or staring. She averted her gaze politely as the Adravendis reunited, until Tornach gestured her forward and she could study Aurielle more frankly. She bowed her head respectfully when he introduced his niece, but her head came up quickly with a faint blush heating her ears when he spoke of her skill. She met his proud gaze, trying to put as much gratitude and love into her own eyes as she could in silent communication with her guardian. She switched her attention back to the Valhallan alpha as Tornach went on to speak of her. "It is a pleasure to meet you," she offered in her low, warm voice.

Aurielle Adravendi

Her Uncle accepted her embrace, and she tamped down the sting in her eyes as he introduced his charge, giving the girl – Corbie – a gentle smile as her thundercloud-colored uncle commended the girl. She recognized the explanation for what it was—a reference. He was vouching that his young charge was a boon to have around. Her chest tightened inside, squeezing her lungs as he spoke of her grandmother’s pride. “Fa was, too.” Her throat tightened on the words and she breathed in, smoothing the emotions down to be dealt with later. If her father had held on, just a while longer… but he’d been ready. What-ifs were pointless to dwell upon for too long. Reflection on past mistakes was one thing; such retrospect helped prevent the same mistakes from happening. But dwelling on what couldn’t be changed, and what must be accepted, would only lead one down fresh heart ache. A flash of glowing wings drew her eyes up, and she welcomed the chance to blink at the sky as Lyr’s feathered form dropped neatly onto the wall. The raven’s mismatched eyes blinked at her as the thick bill clacked cheerfully. “I’ve someone, several of them, I’d like you to meet, Uncle.” The first of them, or possibly the only one, depending on how much time Tornach had to meet all her children, rounded a particularly tall tussock of grass, ink-black coat shimmering and sparking as it always did, and some of her own pain eased as she gazed at the boy. “Uncle Tórnach, Corbie, this is my eldest son, Ardyn Cadeyrn Aodhán Phoenix Adravendi. Ardyn, this is your Uncle Tórnach, and his charge, Corbie Silverwind.” As she rattled off the long name, some of her humor revived itself at her son’s amused eyeroll, and she added, "He's the eldest of five. He has a brother, Coran, and three sisters, Amorielle, Laoise, and Aoife. Amory and Lee are both dedicated healers in training." And Aoife was a little ball of prickly goodness and sass in a class all her own. There was no change in tone from one child to the next as she spoke of her two daughters being dedicated to healing. Pure love and pride glowed in her features and voice, and a tentative hope that verged on bracing for heartbreak as she added, a bit more softly, "If you have time, I'd love for you to meet them, and their father." Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Labhair an Sean-Teanga." ---- "Hear" ---- Think

Ardyn Cadeyrn Aodhán Phoenix Adravendi

He’d been busy up at the tower, shaping a stone with clumsy, still-learning taps of a crude hammer and chisel, when the howl had floated to his ears, perched as he was at the top of the hillock. He turned his head to watch, spotting his mother’s form bounding across the plains to the call, and the flash of Lyr’s plumage as he led the way, having spotted the caller and the flock of… Ardyn squinted. Sheep, with what looked to be a small canine, or at least, that was what he thought the dot might be, keeping them in check. Lyr soon peeled off leaving Ardyn’s mother at the wall and winging back to the Destiny, who cocked his head. “Your great Uncle Tornach and a young lady.” Ardyn’s ears perked, and he set aside the tools, giving his work a look of vexation as he padded away. It could be so much better, but the tools, and his lack of practice had made the stone he was trying to shape far less like a rectangle and more like a lumpy oval. Shaking his head, he made the descent down the path to the bottom of the hillock, then broke into a brisk lope, following Lyr as the raven took the lead. He came around a bend in the path and spotted his mother, giving his long-haired black tail a fiery wave of greeting as he took a spot a step behind his mother’s left, looking between the two visitors, though his lips twitched in a faint, sheepish grin, eyes rolling as she introduced him. It was a running joke by now that he had a long name like his mother, and they bantered this way quite often. He studied the two more carefully, nodding with a friendly smile to each as he took in the visible age and rough life on his great uncle. The last time his mother had seen her uncle had been after he’d eventually healed from being caught in the eruption of Mt Volkan. “Good to meet you both, Miss, Great Uncle.” His tone and eyes were genuine, welcoming the two easily. He had hoped to meet at least one of his uncles, and he finally had that chance. Tornach was as tall as Regulus, but definitely the thundercloud colors his mother had described, though he shared his late older brother’s eyes. “Are you hungry? I think there’s a fresh pot of cooking the primates were trying out making. Lots of bison and venison mixed in. It smelled pretty good this morning but it wasn’t ready yet.” Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Labhair an Sean-Teanga." ---- "Hear" ---- Think

"I can't stay for long," he said gently, not wanting to get her hopes up that he'd be able to stay long enough to meet with anyone. He was coasting on the last of his strength as it was, using it up recklessly and ruthlessly to provide for Corbie when he could have been resting to conserve his strength. But he relented, wishing for that last memory for himself before he faded. "If it doesn't take them long to come, I would love to meet your family." He smiled at Ardyn - his great nephew. "I am not hungry, thank you, Ardyn, but perhaps Corbie would like some - the young are always hungry. In fact, while we are waiting to meet these grand nieces and nephews, why don't you two go grab something? It's been a long journey and I'm sure she could use something warm in her." He flicked a glance to Corbie, urging her to go with his grandnephew for the moment, hoping the young man would agree and give them a moment of privacy, just he and his niece. He had some things to say to her that he'd rather not put Corbie through the discomfort of listening to.

OOC: maybe a round or two after this with just Aurielle and Tor, with Corbie and Ardyn off screen for a moment, and then call in whoever wants to?

The young male, perhaps just a little older than her, was both more and less surprising than the appearance of the pack's alpha. Less, because she had already met Aurielle and so was a little more prepared for the fact that wolves could look like that, and more, because Tornach had not met him before to have described him beforehand so she'd have known to expect it. Like his mother, he had a glow to his fur, but where hers was a constant glow that harmonized with the white-shimmering coat, his was a fiery contrast against his black coat that flickered and shimmered into existence as he moved. He too, had unusually long hair, but that was not so surprising after seeing Aurielle, nor were the fangs that protruded from his mouth. His forepaws were shaped strangely, though, and she wondered at the deformity and how it must affect him, yet it didn't seem to change his gait unduly.

She dipped her head to him as well now, repeating a polite "A pleasure to meet you" to him as well. Her mentor seemed keen for her to go get a bowl of the stew that Ardyn had offered, and Corbie gave him a long, searching glance before nodding in acquiescence. He obviously felt it was important to have a moment without the young people in the conversation, so she would give him his excuse, even if her stomach was too knotted up in worry for him to have any real desire to eat. "It has been a long journey," she agreed quietly. "If it wouldn't be a bother to you, a warm bowl of stew does sound nice."

If Ardyn agreed, she'd excuse herself from Aurielle and Tornach - as was polite - and follow him stolidly out of earshot and give her mentor and his niece a moment.

Aurielle Adravendi

Aurielle listened, nodding in mute acceptance of her Uncle’s words. At his suggestion – request – she nodded to her son and Corbie, smiling gently at the two yearlings. Once they were out of earshot and sight, she sagged slightly. “I know you’re dying. Will you be staying until… You know you’re welcome. However you may feel about packs, there’s always a home here for you.” Her breath hitched, and she took a breath, and a moment before she whispered, “I’d like to be able to visit you, even after you’re gone.” It was selfish, certainly, but she still needed the words to be said. She’d only ever been able to be with her father when he passed. She’d been far away when her mother had finally let go of her body. He was the only uncle she had left and the only one she even remotely knew. Quietly, she watched him, hoping, but not certain he would accept the offer. Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Labhair an Sean-Teanga." ---- "Hear" ---- Think

Ardyn Cadeyrn Aodhán Phoenix Adravendi

He knew his mother was upset. He may have had a truly idyllic childhood, but he hadn’t been shielded from the realities of life and death. He’d helped his mother bury his grandfather beside his grandmother in the small grove, helped her plant several flowering herbs and cache many pretty rocks around his grave. He’d helped protect the grave until it was established enough that small scavengers wouldn’t be interested in digging it up. He knew these were Tornach’s last days, maybe even hours, at worst, among the living. But he smiled gently at Corbie as she returned the pleasantries, and at his grand-uncle and mother’s subtle – or not-so-subtle – hints Ardyn nodded and led the way, tail fanning in a brief wag as he padded off. The stew was brewing within the hillock, a good trek from the wall, so the older wolves had plenty of time to talk, especially since he’d given Lyr an arch look and the raven dropped to ride on his back like some glowy spirit bird. Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Labhair an Sean-Teanga." ---- "Hear" ---- Think