Azalea had heard talk of wolves exploring the islands off of Alacritia but up until late, she hadn't bothered to go exploring them, daunted by the idea of crossing the vast ocean waters to reach them. She had finally made it to one, though. It had been close to the shore so she had taken the plunge... and automatically regretted it. The torrents had ripped her around and in her fight to even make it to the foreign shore a storm had blown in out of nowhere. She dragged her worn body to shore and found the large leaves of some strange plant to shelter her haphazardly from the rain that pelted down. The island was nothing special, though the plants were clearly unusual compared to what she was used to. The grass under paw was course and pricked her pads. What was so great about the islands? What if they were all like this? She female shook her head as water dripped down into her ear. She stood up, head shaking madly trying to get the irritating water out. With a growl the female fled into the undergrowth, dodging trees and blindly progressing until she nearly halfway across the island. She can to a halt, seeing a cave. "Hello?" She called cautiously before stepping tentatively toward the entrance. It was dry in there, elevated above the collecting waters. No one answered so she moved forward, water dripping from her just as fast as more accumulated. The wind had picked up now, the rain tormenting her body. Once in the cage she shook out her fur, calling out once more just to be sure no one was home. She didn't smell any wolves and she heard no strange noises. No one was there. Azalea settled in, facing the entrance from a distance where the rain could no longer reach her. Speech,

. . .



What had poecessed Cross to want to swim to the island? Well it wasn't like his first paddle across a channel. The swim he'd made to Nephilium Island with Awaken had been much more difficult and he'd been even younger then. Perhaps he just wanted to make sure he still had it. Lately he'd been testing his strengths, pushing his limits.... and it was shocking him to find how few he had. Back in Mt. Volkan with Eria he'd taken down a deer by leaping at it from an angle and ripping out it's throat as he flew past. What kind of wolf does that? Then just the other day he'd had his first outing to the Battlefield and faced on a violet youth named Basilisk and found that with all his training and instinct he was already a capable fighter. Now he'd just made a swim through choppy stormy waters and reached the island with enough strength to go for a job. Maybe Cross should've been proud and elated and celebrating, but he wasn't. He was just trying to figure out what all this meant and what he was supposed to do with it.

He remembered, when he'd been younger - before the incident at the border - he'd over heard his mother and his uncle talking. Crusade had started Glaciem and she'd only passed it on to Gargoyle because she'd had no children of her own. But then she'd become mates with Cifer and Cross's litter was born, of which Cross was the eldest and seemingly most active in pack life. Gargoyle and Crusade had been discussing the possibilty of him becoming the next Alpha. Him, an Hier to the ice realm.

But then everything had fallen apart. Everything. It was annoying. Cross and his family had picked up the shattered peices and most of them had stayed together. But things were changing now and his parents were getting old. They'd be leaving soon - Crusade's last journey, and Cifer and Creed were going with her. Crucible - Cross didn't know where that boy had gone off to. Perhaps he'd decided loner life was better. Cross was a little more alone. But that's alright he told himself. It's something I ought to be used to by now And yet.... now he was begining to wonder.... There was no kingdom left to rule, but perhaps he was still meant to be a king.

Only time would tell. And in the meantime he had to get out of this rain.

He'd been on the island for some time now - choosing to walk along the strange beaches until he could himself out of sight of Alacritis and just staring at the endless water. The overcast sky finally decided to break, though, and the boy rushed into the trees to try to find some sort of shelter that wouldn't come toppling down with the first stray lightning bolt.

What he found was a cave - which he immediately sprinted into. Wet paws slid against the stone, coming to a stop with a click of his claws. But when he raised his head he realized he was not alone. There was a shadow at the edge what light managed to filter through the clouds, and Cross's nose was too waterlogged to tell clearly it was a female wolf. For all he knew it was some kind of rare island best. With hackles beginning to raise - all the more spiked from being wet - he let out a slow, even growl, so low it was barely distinguishable from the storm outside. "Who goes there?"




. . .

The air in the cave restricted, breeze disturbed by a large presence at the door. Maybe it was just Azalea's lung, contracting as her body seized up. All she saw was a dark shape, shadowed ever more by the first crack of lightning that illuminated the outside world. The light cast the males shadow in to mingle with her own. Azalea was on her feet in an instant. Tensions were high, both wolves in a tight space, complete strangers knowing nothing of the other. "Who goes there?" "Your worst nightmare, now get out! I was here first!" She called out loudly. Her drenched coat made the thirty one inch female look even smaller, shrinking her down to her frame. The male was wet too but he seemed dryer than her and he was much larger. The little gal held her own though, having little option to flee or back down. There was dead end behind her and brick wall of a wolf before her. Speech,

. . .


With the first lightning flash that went off like cannonfire behind him, Cross saw the small cave bathed in light. For a split second the world could've been as bright as at noontide. And with his back to the flare, he got a brief but clear look at the figure that he had half imagined to be some sort of bear or cat. It was just a girl. A, wet, huddled heap of fur who bore herself with desperate aggression. It was too bad for her that the lightening had betrayed her secret, or Cross might just have managed to be intimidated. As it was though, that option seemed unlikely. His eyes were still narrow, and his face stern, but in the darkness the snarl left his muzzle and some of the hieght went out of his raised fur. Still looked something like a hedgehog though on top.

"My worst nightmare has a very high voice," he muttered at the girl's warning. It was said dryly enough, but not meaning to taunt. If anything there was a hint of surprise. He truly hadn't been expecting that. When he'd glared into the dark recesses ready for a fight, it was because he'd believed there could be a threat to himself, but because he wished to be threatening to others. In stark contrast to her words, the boy plopped his hindquarters onto the damp, sandy stone. He wasn't about to leave, but it wasn't as though he wanted her to either. It was a gesture to show he meant to aggression - but it also betrayed his underlying stubbornness.

"I don't think you'd push a fellow wolf out into a tropical storm." His seat was making it pretty clear that even if she did she wouldn't have an easy time of it, but his words weren't concerned with that, a part of him was genuinely curious about the girl. Was she alright? Was she stranded? What had brought her out to such a lonely, dangerous place as this?





. . .

The male deflated, Azalea realizing that her view of him with the lightning might have been pure darkness but he was getting a brief but clear look at her. "My worst nightmare has a very high voice," he said quietly, the cave's narrow walls carrying it to her or else she would not have heard him at all. He sat down heavily, making his point clear. He was staying. "Hey!" Azalea yelled indignantly at him. She scooted backward, away from the male, only to find the end of the cave much closer than she expected. It was more like an inlet and a cave. "I don't think you'd push a fellow wolf out into a tropical storm." She rolled her eyes, sitting down to pout. "Looks can be deceiving, buddy." She fumed. "What are you even doing here? This island is too small for even a squirrel to live on." Maybe she was exaggerating, surely there was enough for one lonely squirrel? No, probably not but she got the feeling there were plenty of small rodents like chipmunks and mice. These distracted thoughts seemed to ease her mind and she realized that maybe it wasn't so terrible to be stranded on a stormy island with some male she didn't know. By his voice she pegged him to be around her age but she had yet to see him clearly. All she knew was that he was not black, his shade was not a deep enough color for it. Speech,

. . .


She was hardly reassured by his manner. But he'd noticed that his stoic words and unflappable demeanor, rather than make others calm, just threw them off. Especially when it came to young she-wolves. Was there something wrong with him? Or did he just have really terrible luck when it came to the ladies? Oh well, he was growing up but it wasn't like he was looking for a mate or even a crush any time soon. He still had too much to figure out about himself, and this waking death trap he called a world. Cross knew fear. He knew utter, paralyzing terror that made her heart forget to pump and her tongue feel like it was lead. After the incident, his younger seasons had been spent in primal fear of the world around him, but he hadn't shown it.

It hadn't been expressed in flinches and whines or cries or anything like that. It had been expressed in silence. Eventually he came to terms with the fact that someday he was gonna die bloody and somehow it made things easier to bear. They say that soldiers can't fight at their best until they come to understand they're already dead. Alot to take in on your first year of life, and Cross was only just beginning to present a relateable face to the rest of the creatures out there. The only problem was how little others understood. Then again, maybe this was a wolf who was fully aware of the dangers out there, and that was why she was so afraid of him. He heard her fur rustling against the stone as she backed up further. She was very afraid of him.

Was he that terrifying?

In his seasons of quiet, he'd gotten quite adept at body language. As the she-wolf spoke to him, he turned slightly, angling his face more towards cave door, so that he could just see her shadowy form out of the corner of his right eye. He even went as far as to stretch out his forelegs and lay out. Being this close to the front of the little cave meant that he was still getting a bit rained on, but at least he wasn't out in the gale like winds and lightning strikes. His back was more or less towards the girl now, and though he knew it was a risk on his part, he was willing to take it to put his odd new den mate at ease.

He also managed an answer to her question. "I wanted to see if my swimming had improved- if I could cross an ocean channel without nearly dying on the other side." Training. That was his reason. Well that and pure masculine desire to push himself harder and harder. After that, he'd staid because of his softer side; his real appreciation of beauty. He glanced in the direction of the girl. "What's your excuse?"




. . .

The male was watching her, taking her in, considering her movements. Azalea didn't know what he was thinking and she didn't know what she should think of him. He didn't seem like a threat, more like a nuisance. He had invaded the intimate space and now refused to leave. In all honesty she wasn't likely to try and make him leave unless he gave her a good reason to. So far he was giving her no reasons. In an odd way, he reminded her of Gael. Gael would have done the same thing, only to spite her. "I wanted to see if my swimming had improved- if I could cross an ocean channel without nearly dying on the other side." There was his reasoning. Apparantly she was stuck in a tight space with macho man the wolf. He was definitely a male and at this she rolled her eyes. She wondered just how fast she might slap Sarak if he ever said he did something just to be manly. "What's your excuse?" She froze, his eyes were on her again and she hadn't anticipated the attention to be turned to her. Her eyes were adjusting to the dark now, making out the differing shades in the male's coat. He had interesting markings. Lightning flashed and the thunder rolled again, the shallow cave once more being swallowed in darkness. "I've never been to any of the islands before, so curiosity. I'm not a huge swimmer and I've honestly never swam in the ocean before." She paused, her voice had calmed. "I did not like deep water when I was younger." The conversation died, falling into silence that she reveled in for a short while before sighing delicately in the dark. "You'll never keep dry that close to the entrance, why don't you move back some?" She made herself small as she said it, pressing against the wall to her right. The Valhallan Heir sunk to the ground, motioning for the male to come closer though she was not sure that he saw this wordless movement. Speech,

. . .


Cross had given his response, and now, after another crack of lightning, the she-wolf did too. So curiosity was at the heart of her reasoning too. And what's more she had defied her fears in the completion of the adventure. Was there perhaps a bit of the thrill seeker in this wet, timid yearling? Cross wondered whether she had snuck away from some pack, or if she had no one to tell her that to swim through the ocean alone was treacherous. What with all the saltwater and rain he had no chance of picking up any scents but her own personal one.

There was a silence, which Cross didn't seem concerned with breaking, and then the sound of a sigh could just be heard over the rain before the girl spoke again. Seemed that laying down had done just the trick. It defused the tension between them and showed that he was more willing to be uncomfortable than to have her see him as a threat. Already Cross's denmate seemed to have decided he wasn't going to rip out her throat, and even invited him to come closer. He heard another rustling of damp fur as she moved about, he assumed, to make room for him.

He stood, resisting the desire to shake, knowing it would only get the cave more wet. Cross lowered his head and padded lightly to the back, curling around, trying to be careful and not to step on the other wolf. He lowered himself with a flop of a huff. Though his tail, as it rested beside his left hip, brushed tight against the wall, still the fur of the two wolves couldn't help but brush at least a bit. Cross wasn't sure if that was a shoulder or a footpaw that he'd just felt. He guessed that a little of the apprehension would return to the girl's mind, but he didn't seem to feel any tension. He lay down with his chin flat on the stone, and his forepaws out, one of them crooked sideways so that he could see his sand encrusted pads.

After that, his only shift was to perk his ears sharply when another blinding white light light up the world, followed almost at once by a deafening BOOM. They were in the thick of it now. The boy voiced a question that had been on his mind, giving it a slightly lighter, more joking air than most in the situation would've managed. "Don't you have parents to tell you that this sort of thing was bound to happen?"





. . .

The silence that encompassed them was pushed to the back of her mind, watching the male as he stood once more and moved closer as she had bid. He was larger than her, but that was nothing new. Most males were larger than her, standing at an unimpressive thirty-one inches. As the brute struggled to position himself, Azalea pulled her had back with her chin tipped down. Some portion of him brushed her nose, surely his tail, causing her to sniff loudly in order to avoid sneezing. The smell of wet dog hung heavy in her nostrils and she couldn't help but wrinkle her nose for a moment. He finally settled down, his elbow on her left paw. She drew her paw away instinctively, tucking it under her but keeping her eyes on him. Lightning struck again, becoming more frequent and closer. Now the male was positioned where she could see him, the light illuminating him rather than shadowing him. In the breif moment of light she drew her ears back, but not because of the male. He was quite good looking, it was the thunder that made her ears recoil. "Don't you have parents to tell you that this sort of thing was bound to happen?" He asked lightly, perhaps a bit jokingly. "And what about you? You're surely not that much older than I am!" Her tone was mildly offended but it didn't effect the physical look on her face. "What is your name?" She changed the subject quickly so they wouldn't have discuss her parenting. "I am Azalea." She used her own name as if to goad him into sharing his. Speech,

. . .


Again came the spunky retorts that she seemed forced to make. Not answering his question she just threw it back at him - which she did have every right to do really. But then she seemed to just switch topics altogether. At least she'd moved on from the threatening stage to the curious one. She asked him a question, but Cross was a little preocupied. She'd pulled rather violently away from him when he'd laid down, and for some reason it bothered him. Oh well, he wouldn't think about that. She'd said something. Something she wanted to know. His name? The male tipped his head. "Cross," he said calmly into the shadow. Azalea was a most exotic name - a fit calling to go along with the girl he'd found on the island.

As the rain had it's fit outside, the male continued speaking, hoping to distract them from the storm - he'd noticed how she'd flinched at the last thunder roll. And as for my family, they?ve mostly moved on now; My parents were every old when they had me.? Honestly it had been handled so well by his mother that he was left with little to mourn. Crusade had buried enough loved ones in her time and she would not have the remaining ones need to bury her. So, as she felt age really begining to slow her down - not helped by the broken leg she'd sustained before they left Mt. Volkan - she'd decided to retire away in some other land. She had wanted to go alone, but Cifer would not hear of it. Creed, Crucible, Mother and Father, all gone in one blow. Maybe Cross should've gone with them, but he felt it was his place to stay. He had to find his own place in the world. "I still have a clan's worth of cousins, though," he added as an after thought. "And plenty of them - over in Valhalla - I've never even met before."






. . .

"Cross," Was the name he gave her to call him. It was a name like none she had heard before, simple but strong and lovely. She really liked it but to avoid an awkward situation she kept that note to herself. He seemed please with her name too, but maybe he was not and she was just reading him wrong... probably. She looked away from him for a moment, her facial expression forming a vexed straight line. "And as for my family, they?ve mostly moved on now; My parents were every old when they had me.? They had moved onto small talk now, Azalea settled more comfortably in. If he had wanted to kill her, he would have done so already. She didn't really react to his words, not good at sympathizing over wolves she didn't know. He fell silent once more and Azalea was left to wonder how to follow that. "Oh yeah, my family is all alive and well," It would be cruel. "I still have a clan's worth of cousins, though," He said suddenly, her head turning ninety degrees to look at him. "Oh, yeah?" She spoke more to say something rather than genuine interest. "And plenty of them - over in Valhalla - I've never even met before." Of course this drew her attention. "Oh, yeah?" She asked again, this time more serious. "Do you know any of their names?" She tipped an ear. Come to think of it, the dark lining down his back was reminiscent of her father's markings... but... no. They couldn't be related, could they? There were plenty of wolves with dark top lines. Speech,

. . .



She seemed suddenly interested. Was she Valhallan? "I don't," the boy said with a shake of his head. "But their parents are my uncle Collision and his wife Solliel." He knew next to nothing about the male - Crusade's descriptions of him had always been pointedly vague - but Solliel, she had come to Glaciem before and Orica had studied under her for a bit to learn about healing. She seemed nice enough. There had been plans about Gargoyle taking some of the family down to visit Valhalla, but there were the power changes going on, and he had thought it to unstable as of yet. Next thing they knew, two of the once-Valhallans were calling out Gargoyle to cause a little more instability.

So what were the boy?s thoughts on the matter? Honestly, he preferred not to have them. He didn?t want to hate anyone. Didn?t want to see himself angry. He?d seen what happened when other wolves got upset ? it was just a slippery slope that never went well for anyone. So he wouldn?t think about it. He?d focus on what little he had left, knowing that eventually he?d loose them too. But that was tomorrow, and he was living in today.

Even if today was monsoon season.





. . .

"I don't," He said and she pulled her ears back, head dropping a bit as she lost interest. But he was speaking again and her ears flew to attention. Her head whipped around to him and she jumped up in the small space. "But their parents are my uncle Collision and his wife Solliel." He said. "We're related!" Was the first thing out of her mouth, much too young for the close quarters. Surely he was going deaf from her yelling. "Collision and Soleil are my parents. I am from Valhalla." Her voice and facial expression were mystified. The rain outside seemed to be slowing up, the wind no longer as heavy. She could see a patch of blue sky in the distance. "Who are your parents?" Her tail was waving lightly now, the gal smiling excitedly at him. Her fur had died out a bit but not by much, it was just too moist for it to dry, even with the draft coming into the cave.

. . .



This next thunderous boom, actually managed to startle Cross; But maybe that was because this one went off inside the cave! He had barely finished speaking before the girl suddenly leapt up. They were so close in the confined space, that Cross could only go so far. He just sort of flattened himself against the opposite wall, as a deafening shout blasted his pinned ears. His eyes didn't widen or stretch, but everything else about him screamed shock. He didn't even recognize the words held within the shout until a few seconds later. His brain was playing 'catch up' while the rest of his body was trying to figure out if he was under attack or not.

But eventually he got it. She wasn?t attacking; she was celebrating! A twist of fate and a bad rainstorm had brought together a pair of cousins that had never so much as laid eyes on eachother. The girl?s energy, after the initial shock, was rather infectious. Cross was popping up to his paws and though he didn?t shout and beam blinding smiles, he did find himself chuckling a little. So she was a child of Solliel and Collision! Not to mention that she was a pack wolf. Cross might?ve had mixed feelings about the current leading family out there on the plains, but family was family! ?Crusade and Cifer!? he exclaimed in answer to her question. His chuckle returned. "Do you even know who they are?" There was no time like the present to learn. He wanted to know more about her family too! How many siblings did she have? What were they like? In fact, what was it like in Valhalla? The only ones he'd met were Erani and Surreal, and they seemed nice enough -but he wanted to know more. For the first time in a LONG while, he was really and truly curious about something in the world. There was something worth knowing and exploring. How strange was that?
Cross didn't notice that the rain was starting to let up, or even that he was smiling. He was too intent upon the girl before him and all she could mean. He was the verge of shouting out a hundred questions - but he didn't want to scare her! He could barely contain himself - he had to ask a couple. "But what about your parents?! And your siblings - you do have sibilngs don't you?"




. . .

He seemed rather thrown off by her yelling. She didn't realize quite how loud she had managed to be. When he snapped out it, he was on his feet and chuckling a bit. ?Crusade and Cifer!? He said finally, making Azalea tip her head. Well, who were they? She really didn't know much of her father's real family, just that he had been adopted by Guinevere and Cairo and that his brother was Gargoyle. He seemed to realize that she didn't know who they were, asking her just to be certain. She shook he head, no longer smiling. "Who are they? I mean, what's their relation to my dad?" He was smiling widely at her. "But what about your parents?! And your siblings - you do have sibilngs don't you?" "Well, what about them? They're alive and well? I have two brothers and two sister. My brothers are my age, Soleon and Gael. Soleon has been gone for a long time but Gael came home recently. Uhm, then I have two new sisters! Solaine and Guinevere."

. . .



Cross's eyes narrowed in ever so slight confusion at the girl's first questions. "You don't know? Your dad never mentioned them?" Cross didn't know much about the family history, other than Collision had stayed in Starlite/Valhalla when the rest of the family had followed Crusade to Glaciem, but had there actually been any friction about that? They'd been allies with Valhalla when Collision was it's Alpha, right? Of course that had been thrown out the window soon as he'd stepped down. That was one complicated back - he didn't bother trying to understand the way they did things. He just gave his answer. "Well, Crusade is your father's older sister." Is not was. As far as Cross knew she was still alive and happy relaxing somewhere.

He was happy for the switch over to Azalea's side of the family. He stowed the names given away for later. Soleon. Gael. Solaine, and Guinevere... Why was that name familiar? Had he heard it mentioned in one of the old family history stories? He grinned, hearing all these names. It was like someone had hung a whole new wall in the halls of his legacy. Who were these wolves? Seemed like they knew so little about their roots and where they came from. Did they even know any of the tales about their grandmother and the two legs? Or about the many miles logged by their family? The monsters they'd fought and wars they'd won? It certainly was something Cross wouldn't take for granted again.

The boy shook his head in amazement. "Wow. Who'd have thunk?" He looked the girl over, and, saw behind her that the rain had cleared. "Come on," he said with a sudden spark of the spontaneous. "This might just be the eye of the storm, but we should take a walk." He gave a wag of his tail as an extra gesture of encouragement. "We have alot to talk about." He stepped out into the damp openness. A couple of the trees were still bent, and streamlets of water were navigating their way through the soil and sand, but the world was rather beautiful - still shaded by the grey clouds. "-For instance-," he said, looking back. "You've never met any of the Old Glaciem side of the family, right? I mean, we were both born long after our grandparents died, but do you even know anything about them?"




. . .

"You don't know? Your dad never mentioned them?" Perhaps he was a little put off and Azalea quickly made to right herself. "No, no! Well... yeah, I suppose. What I mean is that he may have mentioned them but I honestly don't know much past him being adopted." Did that make it any better that she didn't know her father's blood family? Names at least. If they had been mentioned, then she didn't remember. It wasn't a bad thing. "Well, Crusade is your father's older sister." She took this in for a moment before nodding. Cross was the first to notice the rain had stopped falling and was on his feet to go. For a moment she surely looked alarmed. "Come on," His words were a relief and she was quickly on her feet to follow him. She kept pace, putting her shorter legs to work. He had a lot of growth on her and that made his steps much wider than hers. He was a wolf who could cover some ground. "You've never met any of the Old Glaciem side of the family, right? I mean, we were both born long after our grandparents died, but do you even know anything about them?" She shrugged lightly. "Well, I haven't even officially met Gargoyle and he's the only name I know well. By any means, I'm not much of a history buff so even if I have learned about them then I don't remember. From your standpoint they are more immediate family but you have to consider that my father was adopted by Guinevere and Cairo. They raised him. I am an Adravendi, I take the last name of my grandfather, Cairo." She glanced at him sidelong to gauge his reaction. She hadn't been rude, nor was she trying to be. Her words were more serious and factual sounding. "My mother, however, came from a bland background. She left her family when she was two years old and by fate she found Collision." She was smiling lightly now. Her parents really were a great couple and she supposed that Alacritia was full of them. Epiphron and Maverick, for instance. Cairo and Guinevere. Chrysanthe and Gideon. Gargoyle and Ocena. Speech,

. . .

Cross knew that there were plenty of wolves who didn't bother with any sort of knowledge or tradition. There were plenty that never bothered, or never had the chance, or just had nothing to tell. But Cross was a legacy. Azalea and her siblings were a legacy - perhaps even more so because of the Adravendi name they chose to carry. They would chose to know all that but neglect the other side of their family?

Cross was trying to make sense of what he was hearing. His eyes narrowed slightly as he scanned hers in a desperate search for information. "Wait...so..." What was she saying? An adoption? Collision was a yearling when he had chosen to not to go on to Glaciem with the others. He was old enough to be on his own and his parents were still alive; he didn't need another family. "Did Collision... disown his family?" Cross had never really spent time with the guy. Perhaps it was terrible to even think such a thing. But now his eyes were widening in a 'holy-crap-that-would-make-sense' moment. The vauge sort of vieled saddness his mother had spoken of him in, the gaps in the family history, the lack of background that Collision's children knew about, the name. He couldn't really pay attention much to what she was saying about her mother - despite the fact that he'd thought Solliel was a very nice wolf when she'd visited - his mind was too wrapped up in this morbid possibility.





. . .