Erani

Snow crunched under her paws as she descended into the valley that in the warm seasons was painted in emerald hues of verdant grass, splashed with wildflowers of all colors. Now, it was painted in shades of white and grey, covered in a blanket of snow. The silence in the valley was a pleasant change to the upheaval in Valhalla. She didn?t remember Redwood pack being so hectic? But then again, they had been at war long before she had been born. It was a routine. And they had found ways to keep the spirits up. Stories and games to cheer up souls burdened by wondering who would be lost in the next raid, and who would come back. She hoped with all her heart that Chrysanthe?s decision to put Syrinx at their heads beside her wasn?t a horrible mistake. And that, when the war was over, Chrysanthe would remove him from the place before he became too comfortable. Thinking back, she knew that it all came back to Eos and Syrinx. If Eos hadn?t overthrown Gargoyle, Isardis could never have come to power. At least not in Glaciem, and they would have had the support of the original Glaciem wolves if he had come to power elsewhere. It all made her heart sick. She came to a place where the river, which still ran this early in winter, met up with a boulder, gathering her haunches and launching herself up the side, scaling it, claws scoring niches in the snow. She settled her haunches to the snow, eyes closing. It hurt to not trust Syrinx, but she didn?t trust him at all with their lives. Look what had become of Glaciem after he and Eos had taken over. Abandoned in a heartbeat. If I were younger? And If time were reversed. Wishful thinking. It was likely she would die in these coming years. Oh, she was fit and healthy, but she was also aging. She would be nine this spring. She gave a quiet sigh. Cormalin was getting old as well. Their times were drawing closer with every day. Deep blue gaze opened, gazing into the winter blackened water of the river. Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think

A mixture of dead grass and hardened snow would crunch beneath the man's powerful strides. It was not yet his time to grow old and as he aged his body only tightened and strengthened. Somehow Deteste knew he was destined to live a long life and he was perhaps only half way through the haphazard journey that had become his life. These parts were uncharacteristic for Deteste and he had come with only one purpose. To seek the man he knew named Cormalin for he had heard disturbing rumors regarding a war to come and within the uproar of such heated gossip he knew this Valhallan wolf would be the one to provide him with the most truth.


Black water rushed parallel to the man's route in the form of a river. The sound was loud and eerie against the vast emptiness and silence of the winter valley. In the distance a muffled thud would echo and his head would raise to pay the commotion attention, his stride quickening yet becoming more sure footed as the distance between he and his unknown company closed. The woman's scent would reach him first. The warmth of it reminding him of life in the midst of a stagnant and bitter winter. Next would come the outline of her colorless pelt against the snow, the opacity of her body being the only quality to separate her from it. For a moment a fleeting thought told Deteste that the figure was Laxago and in that split second his heart would clench painfully, forcing his breath from him as memories clouded his mind and then parted from him in the same fleeting speed they had come. Thus he would come upon the stranger breathlessly, his even stride suddenly broken into a stiff legged walk. Ho, stranger. he would speak, the timbre unwavering. He would attempt a tight smile in greeting as he realized familiar qualities within the woman's scent but the wistfulness that his memories had left him with would not break and steal the expression from his cold, cerulean eyes.

Erani

Over the bubbling rush of the river, pawsteps reached Erani?s ears, the crunching snow telling of a larger wolf. Her eyes lifted from the dark water, head turning to gaze over her shoulder at the dark male who approached rather stiffly. One brow point lifted in question at his stiff manner as she rose, turning to face him. She noticed the wistful sadness that lingered in his eyes, though they themselves were hard cerulean gems. She studied him, taking in the scars, the faint breathlessness. His voice, however, when he spoke, was strong, and he offered a somewhat strained smile. Deep blue pools studied him as she dipped her head. ?Good day, dark one.? Her haunches lowered to the snow dusted stone, tail curling to wrap around her feet. ?A pleasant day for a walk, mm?? Her gentle voice was friendly, calm, as she made conversation. He seemed familiar, from a description Cormalin had given one day a while back about one of his trips to the Field to find more members for Valhalla. "You wouldn't happen to be Deteste of Ludicael, would you?" Her head tilted in mild curiosity. Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think

Deteste of Ludicael. His time had been short in Ludicael and the title that the woman gave him caused Deteste to laugh. Ah, I am Deteste. Yet now I am a man without a country. his voice would flow strongly from him and in their interaction he would forget his previously stunned state. How do you know me, may I ask? And who will you be to me? He inquired with some curiosity, his tight smile loosening as his expression warmed. Deteste would slowly close the distance between them, taking a carefully placed seat a stride or two away from the woman. His rump sinking a couple of inches into the snow. A gentle breeze would bring a flurry of soft snow between the two wolves. The ice settled like a fine dust upon Deteste's black coat. His scars were ever cold in the winter season. It was interesting just how aware he was of each one. How he remembered their stories. They grounded him.



He pondered what others may think of them as he studied the woman with a gentle eye, his head slightly ducked against the growing wind. She was beautiful. For a moment the man wondered what it may be like to be recognized for beauty instead of scars. Never in his life would he knew truly what he appeared as to others. Reflections within water were often muddy and misleading. He had never pondered such concerns into appearances and he was unsure why he pondered them now. Perhaps the woman's grace had touched him. It had certainly taken him aback upon first sight and now it seemed that he was still grasped by it. Where others may covet beauty it would make a man like Deteste ponder the significance of such qualities.

"Speech"

Erani

Erani?s greeting, and naming of the wolf made him laugh, bringing a soft smile to her features. Ah, laughter. There was little of that going on in Valhalla. It was good to hear. Deteste confirmed her guess, his face losing that wistful, stunned look. Though, she had heard he?d gone to Amenti when the female, Medusa had won it. What had happened? She?d heard challenging calls in the distance, during a foray at the edge of Valhalla closest to the Battlefield. But she hadn?t paid more attention beyond that. So Amenti must have changed paws again. Deteste inquired as to how she knew him, and of her own name. She smiled again. ?My brother, Cormalin, told me of you. I am his sister, Erani, and I?m the Lead Healer at Valhalla.? He approached, and her own guards had fallen away, leaving her emotions open for reading, instead of the neutral blankness a stranger received upon first contact. There was gentle interest, as she wanted to know a little more about what had happened, and a little more of the wolf who sat before her. She could sense the same loneliness, the feeling of waiting, and fear of loss, that she felt weighing upon her shoulders. ?So what brings you near Valhalla? Mere wanderings, or were you hoping for that hunt my brother mentioned? If you don?t mind my asking, that is.? A choice to answer, and complete freedom to step into another subject all together if he wished. There was no pressure to speak, only an offer to listen. The three scars across his muzzle caught her eye, and she felt a quiet pang of sadness. And a sad knowledge that another scarred face would possibly never smile at her again. It had already been a long, long time. Almost a full turn of the seasons. The shadows that flitted through her eyes were there and gone again, hardly noticeable. Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think

As he studied the woman he could not help but notice the minute expression of pain that possessed her eyes. And it gave him pause for he had not yet witnessed such deep sorrow reflected in another being. His lips would tighten and the fleeting expression would force an unwitting pause upon him before he was able to answer the woman's questions. You have excellent forsight, Erani. he would begin, his tone somewhat dampened, For I was seeking your brother. I was hoping to learn more of the war brewing between Valhalla and Glaciem for I've realized that Amenti is now being pulled into the mix as well.



He was unsure just how much Erani herself knew about the war for there were was a great distance between the war bound packs and those in between were left with pieces of disorganized information. I was... unable to stay in Amenti during most of Medusa's pregnancy. When I returned the woman had given leadership to Alena for she was disabled by the advancement of her pregnancy. Just days before my return Alena had lost a challenge for Amenti. A woman named Canttina rules the land now. I intend to re-claim Amenti for the red forest has become my home. He would speak honestly. Revealing that his intentions were somewhat one sided. Yet he did care about Cormalin. It had been about a year since he had last seen the man yet he lingered with Deteste's thoughts.

Erani

Erani didn?t miss the pause, or the tightening of Deteste?s face, before he spoke. Her ears pressed forward to listen. So he had heard of the war. And Amenti was coming into it? ?I can tell you what I know.? She offered gently, then listened as he told her of what had happened. When he finished, she nodded, taking it all in. Then she organized her thoughts and spoke. ?I will tell you what I know of what happened; how it started, and so on. One of our Betas was lost in a flood last Spring. Her daughter, Liberty, didn?t handle it well, and wandered, and happened upon Glaciem?s king, Isardis. Instead of avoiding him, she tempted him, perhaps feeling that maybe this would help her feel better. When she realized she would be little more than property and a brood female in his pack, she ran home. A day or so later, he arrived at our borders, intending to collect her. Chrysanthe refused him, and he issued a challenge, which took place a few days later. It didn?t go well. Chrysanthe had ordered us all that only five other Valhallans were to come. The council, and my daughter, Surreal. Chrysanthe won the challenge, but on of our younger members disobeyed her and snuck onto the field to watch, and when the healer arrived late, making six wolves, Isardis? Duchess challenged for Chrysanthe?s mate. She won that challenge. ?Chrysanthe ordered Cormalin to fight Isardis? son, Taurig, but Cormalin refused. Taurig later left Glaciem, and took over Tortuga?s lands, after their most recent disbanding. He?s a good leader, and I?ve had the honor of adopting him as my own. He has formed an alliance with Valhalla. We ourselves are preparing for war, and training hard.? Deep blue pools rested on Deteste?s cerulean gaze as she let the information sink in and be considered. Then she dipped her head. ?And I have no doubt that you will win back Amenti and reclaim your home. I gathered herbs in Red Forest, before Amenti claimed it. It?s a beautiful place, and reminds me of my birth territory.? It was, indeed, achingly similar. Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think

The man would listen carefully with a stoic but somewhat earnest expression, his gaze would be locked with hers as she spoke, the nature of their color a near reflection of his own. His jaw would tighten as the woman spoke, each of his stained incisors settling upon one another as jagged puzzle pieces. Silence would follow the woman's speech yet he would not break their intertwined gazes as he pondered the weight of her words. The war was certainly a complicated situation yet the man failed to see the purpose behind the bloodshed that would follow. He found that he failed to sympathize with the catalyst of it all, the girl Liberty, much less a girl considering her success in tempting the northern king. There was great consequence in the pursuit of the heart. Many deaths would follow such emotional judgements, derived soley from flirtation and pride. The man found himself drawn away from these thoughts and his focus shifted from contemplation to sight and what he saw before him was Erani's graceful figure. Her colorless body more immaculate than the fresh snow that sifted about them.




It was then that he would notice the marks that branded that stainless pelt. It was eerie what small things he had in common with this woman whom he had just met. His gaze would not waver but his perspective would widen. Deteste had little attachment to Valhalla. Yet he realized the significance connection he had forged with Cormalin and that which was forming between he and Erani. There was no way for Deteste to know if either would be involved in the war unless he inquired yet he felt it was not his place to do so. I cannot involve myself in the war... he would finally speak. His timbre would be strong and his expression would soften. But listen, Erani, if you there is anything that I may do for your family. Please do not hesitate to ask. he would state. Deteste was a man of his word and such an offer was one an individual may only only receive in a life time for he was willing to go to great lengths to preserve the goodness he had uncovered upon these Valhallan wolves.

Erani

Deteste?s eyes were locked with her own as she spoke, and she read his emotions through them, even as silence fell. The wandering of thought as he contemplated her report of Valhalla?s happenings and situation. Eventually his gaze wandered from her own, to land upon the scars left from her near death experience back in old Alacritis. The slashing black lines of ragged fur across her legs being the most noticeable. In that attack, having been caught completely off-guard by five of Black Moon Pack?s assassins, all she could do that night was to tuck her legs over her chest to protect herself. Eventually, he spoke, and she dipped her head in acknowledgement and acceptance. ?Of course. I would never ask you to involve yourself in this whole affair. That is your choice to make, and the fewer friends of my family that are hurt, the better.? His next words, she considered at length. ?I haven?t anything to ask at this moment, but I will remember your offer?? She thought a moment. Then a thought came to her. ?I assume you have a great deal of fighting experience? Enough to train a young wolf with a ready mind?? Her daughter needed all the training she could get. Deep blues gazed into the lighter blue stare as she awaited his reply. Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think

A gentle expression of surprise would claim the man's features at Erani's inquiry for the request was one he would, in any other situation, completely refuse. He would stand, shaking the snow that had settled upon his black pelt, and approach the river that ran silently beside him. He would seek his reflection there but the current would break it. It would be a moment before he spoke again. Such conversations required a great amount of depth. I am willing to mentor the one you are thinking of but there are things about myself that you must understand about me, and that you must tell to your young one, before we go forth with this request. he would speak seriously, the emotion stealing away from his face and leaving the man with a stoic disposition. He would turn to her again with serious gaze that chilled his cerulean eyes.



I am a skilled fighter indeed but I do not have an honorable history. I am a different man but never will my deeds be redeemed and thus I am the very same man. When I train your young one I will train her to be victorious at all costs. I will not teach them be an honorable fighter. I will teach them to kill. In any other case I would refuse to be a mentor. For young or old, foe or friend. I do not consider lightly upon sharing the knowledge of death. For when the knowledge is spread so is the possibility of evil. such would his speech cease. His cold eyes would watch for any change in expression as the man wondered whether the woman would choose to seek the request after all.
"Speech"