[[FINISHED]] The Truth About Forever

[Lydair]

There was something cold and barren about the deathly white of the wet lands, mounting collection of fresh snow empty and untouched. The alabaster terrain had adapted to the sallow breathing of the remainder of the region, waning life trickling thin. The crude silhouettes backed by gnarled fingers of blackened trees were cast impatiently against dull beryl of the firmament and there was a despondent heaviness clinging to the thick air. The shadows of ghosts of broken pasts wailed mournfully through the brittle grasses, slipping through the fissures in the ice of the frost that coated everything in an icy residue, paling the springing green of the foliage. There was a daunting scent of recent death, the bitterly cloying smell of hate that was so tangible it could be tasted, the thin trickle of paranoia that had wound its way through the interminable terrain, slithering with the recent effects of deaths and disappearances.

Pelt was a pale gray, faintly cerulean in a sense of the color that was not natural to that of the wolf. Beneath its tips was an imbued sagacity of ivory, dirtied and hanging from the curve of the belly. Its depths had at one time been stunning, but with the accumulative grime delivered by the elongated trek the coloration had darkened to a dingy cream, yellow tips receding. Pressing faintly against the sallow blue of her tainted pelage were the long pieces of rib bones, indication of her slightly emaciated state. Her fur had thinned, revealing faintly pink skin and a light webbing of veining that crisscrossed over her slender chassis and added a blue bruising, cowing her fur into something before unseen. Blackened nares flared as the lucid scent of other canines stung her senses and she blinked, small lids slipping over eyes that were stunningly cyan, ebon pupils wide and knowing as they focused on the blur of trees before her. There was a skeletal film of ache that dulled her bright eyes and she braced herself with disbelief as she stared cynically at the boundaries that she never wanted to abscond from. Atop her intricately marked skull twin zeniths perked and twitched, curling to the reverberations of minute chirps and faint barks. The scents around the precincts of Ge-Rad were faint to her memory and a twinge of fear throbbed through her tender heart as she fought through unrecognizable distinctions.

With a sharp exhale footloose paws rose and she broke through the heavy shield of snow that was barricading her steps, black claws scrabbling across the ice as the she-wolf skittered forward, grace marred by the conditions beneath her. Erratically she would leap and twist around stands of beech trees and towering firs and pines, leaving tufts of blue fur in the bark that clawed at her sides. The discrepancy of her inelegant poise was disheartening, and with flattening auds she slowed, precautioning each step with stiffly correct strides. Avoiding the flattened ground of the denning area, the hybrid femme growled beneath her breath, irritation mounting with each drawn out pace. The familiarity of the packlands was a swelling breath that arose in her lungs, ending the bleeding and filling her jowls with air that inclined her forward movement. Would she become just another forgotten member, unknown by many in Ge-Rad’s mass? Would her Dragga and Drappa greet her as grieved-for friend, or illegitimate foe? Suppressing a whine, the cobalt femme lowered her cranium, curled tassel falling between her bisque hocks. Her hiatus from her beloved pack had indeed extended beyond approval and aspiration, yet she had been brought back. The haunting memories of her mate and children were constantly buffering her mind; even now the gun-gray physique of Koan was branded behind her eyes. Her brindle daughter, whom at first had decidedly followed her dam beyond the treelines, had quickly broken apart from her mother’s tread, golden falcon sailing on the winds behind her.

If I could be one thing
I’d be invisible,
So I could hide my inconsistence
And blame it on the distance

[/i][/color]

The loneliness, then, was a physical thing, walking beside her and painfully reminding Lydair of the reminisces that she pined for. The memories and the scents had long since faded, yet now, with the rekindling of the desperation in her heart, her senses were flooding, brimming, and seeping over. Standing in the night, fighting back against the terror of Sarnes; standing watch beyond Uskiya as her nieces and nephew were born; the interminable arguments with Yelae, with Shako; her talks with Trile; her courtship with Koan, her love; the joyous arrival of her own three cubs- all famous living dead that drowned her mind and cursed her thoughts. Good Tor, the cubs- Kaemon, Koude, Caoimhe. Koude, the near spitting image of his steely father; Kalli and Kaemon seemingly more dog than wolf in their partaking of unnatural coloration. Nothing about Kaemon’s physical appearance linked him either to his sire or dam; only the intense blue of Caoimhe’s eyes traced her heritage back through the Siberian husky lineage of Lydair. She felt as if her very spirit was threading from her mind, ravaged and torn. The pride with which she had held herself through the patrols and the confrontations seemed dreadfully diminished as she slunk through the back woods of Ge-Rad, a place that at one time,- the time when everything made sense, when hearts and clocks would turn back, when confidence wasn’t lacking and full of minor concerns,-she would have entered with head and tail held high, a banner of her allegiance.

And now, here she was.
A painted figurine of her former self.


The curved mouths of damp dens and snowy mounds caught her attention immediately, and with a hopeful wrenching of her heart her lithe frame smoothly twisted and she felt familiar ground rushing back to her. While there was no warmth from sheltering walls or furred bodies pressed graciously against her back, Lydair whimpered as the scents and memories filled her. Standing weakly, thickly furred tassel swinging slowly over her back, the cobalt hybrid’s tender cyan eyes gleamed and her armature shook lightly with a trembling combination of fear and relief that deluged her senses and washed thickly through her veins, flushing the uncertainties away.

She was home.

Struggling forward, her little white paws shuffled to her left, angling slowly to the den that she had shared with her lover and cubs. The scents were dulled, barely there, and as she scratched against the walls she whined mournfully and raised her voice in a quiet eulogy for the ones she feared she might never see again. Her small head tilted back, tapered maw arching for the round ceiling and crystalline voice shattering the silence of the icy dens and breaking through to Ge-Rad’s heart.
Crumpling slowly, her hind legs tucked and tail flicked about her side, Lydair rested her muzzle on her outstretched paws and watched through blurring eyes the scene before her, the exquisite scenery of her packlands and the wholly sublime death of the world.

Hold me close
I sleep much better when
I know I’m not alone

[/i][/color]

She was home.[/size]

[Draeg]

Snow crunching beneath thickly padded mitts he emerged from the cramped confines of his den, a solitary figure clad in amber clothing. It was amazing how quickly the weather could change at a moments notice, like a coin balancing on its axis it could go either way. Only a few days ago the spring that had been upon them, working its magic on the land and transforming Ge-Rad into the luscious green paradise it had been when he first arrived nearly two years ago. And yet in an instant it had all changed. Like grains of sand scattered in the wind the once verdant forest and sweeping meadows had disappeared, replaced by a sea of snow that stretch out as far as the eye could see. Just like that it was all gone, lost in the grips of a fierce snowstorm that raged even now. But that’s mother nature for you, always in flux and constantly on the go to accommodate for the unexpected, never-ending twist and turns in the grand scheme of the eternal circle of life.

He wasn’t sure if it was still snowing or if the wind was merely blowing the diminutive frozen crystals in his direction, honestly the coppertone manna didn’t care. He had faced worse in his time, it would all be gone in a few days time and once again the frozen landscape would once again become the verdant jewel of spring once more. Still Draeg couldn’t help sighing, as much as he enjoyed the winter season the amber wolf had been looking forward to the spring thaw. Winter was no time to for a single parent to raise pups, even if it was only one. But as usual the gods seemed to have had other something else in mind for him. Snarling at the thought he pressed on, muttering darkly beneath his breath. He had abandoned the gods shortly after Wolfbane’s unexpected and unprecedented intrusion into Ge-Rad, not wanting to pay homage to a pantheon that had allowed one of their own deities to take his beloved Cwen away from him. Feeling betrayed and abandoned Draeg began to think back on everything he had lost in the past two years, his bitterness only growing with each transgression recalled. His almost appointed exile from his natal pack, Huts’ death due to complication from her fight with Serg, the numerous disappearances that had taken place in the past year, Wolfbane’s arrival, Cwen’s sudden death, his recent falling out with Shayla. The more he thought about it the more Draeg blamed the gods for each of the hardships he had been forced to endure throughout his life.

Ears perking tattered auds swiveled forward as a familiar sound reached his ears, rising out from amidst the flurry of snow and ice and catching his attention. It was a voice Draeg hadn’t heard for over the better part of a year, one he had begun to believe he would never hear again. Paws sinking into the ground the he set out into the frozen terra, his broad chest acting like a wedge as he plowed through the frozen drift moving against the storm. His pelt, though having grown thin in the recent months, helped him to ignore the worst of the icy flurry, ticked fur billowing to his left in the wind. The once honey and maple colored fur had since faded and thinned, becoming nothing more then a wild mass of unkempt hair. The few scars which had once lined his body had multiplied, spreading out from his muzzle to his chest and back and leaving lines of exposed flesh in his once rich and luxurious pelt. Amber orbs had grown dull and glassy, trapped in a constant expression of sorrow and sadness.

In only a matter of moments he reached the old den site, filling his mind with thoughts of happier times and drawing forth a pained whimper from the amber Dragga. His nose twitched as new scents flooded his nostrils, the smell of sickness and desperation thick in the air. Following the rapidly diluting scent he soon found himself standing in front of a painfully familiar sight, one that had been left unoccupied for some time now. Ears falling flat against his scalp Draeg let out a low snarl, eyes narrowing with rage as he approached the familiar densite. “OUT![/b]” he barked viciously, fangs flashing menacingly. “How dare you trespass upon my land without some much as asking Larka’s Blessing and then expect to commandeer one of my dens? That den is reserved for my son and his family so get out before I come down there and make you!”[/color]