An Old Wolf Trods.

[Sivoncé™]

She blinked wistfully over Damien once more, but her initial interest in the dark brujo had dwindled. Faintly attractive, but looks like he'd like to throw himself off a cliff. I've had enough of sadness to last me a lifetime -- don't need the extra baggage, anyway. She shrugged her shoulders -- trying to relax the tension that had built up in her muscles. Relax, honey. Enjoy the boys for a bit. She blinked over the other, older brute, but found an expression similar if not related to the one of the first wolf's features. Sad sacks.... Her eyes turned to look at the third as he spoke. She couldn't help but grin as he chattered away in cheery spirits. I like this one. She sat with her tail curled around her paws and smiled at Icarus. "Pleased to be of aquaintence. I am from very deep in the mountain regions, but I have...family in the region I've been searching for." She inclined her head slightly. "Perhaps you know of them?"

Damien was beginning to feel a bit disconcerted with his current company. Whisper's appearence had reenforced the suspicios feelings that Iver's studying had planted in him. Is there something wrong with my face? Do I have an ugly scratch I didn't know about? Subconsciously, he flicked his ears and swiped a hasty paw over them. The she-wolf spoke with a thick accent of mountain heritage; her words flowed like a river trickling through a forest. He listened, curious, but waited for Iver or Icarus to respond to her inquiry. I don't know enough about her to know if I want to give away names and locations. Then again, it depends on who she's looking for.

[Destiny]

No, an answer had not been formed or filed away for that question of the night colored male at any point in the past - which, really, would have made sense if he didn't ever plan on seeing any pack wolf again. As it were, it didn't, but the wolf never got any sort of answer anyway - as Iver became rather fully distracted at that point. The search on Damien proved mostly futile, though there were a few things about the male that struck Iver hard; they were familiar features. But why, he could not place, and from whom, or when, was unknown to the old wolf when he gazed upon Damien.

This, however. . This was quite different. Such a change, in fact, that muzzle wouldn't even open immediately from its lock-jawed position to answer that question of her's. Very slightly, upper body leaned forward, in the direction of the wolf apparently named Whisper. This was not a noticeable motion, for the most part, as he remained fully in the shadows. Though his orange-ish eyes did seem to widen just a tad, as if taken off guard by something. Must have been some train of thought, aye?

Hardly. Muzzle was dipped in silent thanks to the cheery Icarus for getting his calling out; Iver wasn't sure he would have been able to do it immediately himself. Own stare was on the female, and though it swept her body, it returned to her head, where it remained. Could it be? No, no. But it had to be. Those eyes were so strikingly familiar. Heart-wrenching-ly so. "I might. Turn your face this was for a moment, pup." There was a strange wistfulness in his voice. Like an old wolf who's just seen his deceased spawn for the first time in moons, as he dies.

[Sivoncé™]

Incredulously, Whisper's eyes narrowed at Iver. For a moment, she looked as if she would only snarl in return, but instead, she barked briskly, "Just because you're old as dirt doesn't mean you get to call me pup. I'm much older than I look." For a moment, she let her words hang there as if they were a warning. Maybe I shouldn't even have asked, look at these three! The only one that's good for something is Icarus, and the only thing he's good for is a laugh. What am I even doing out here, talking to strangers? Her voice softened slightly, and she took a deep breath. "I am looking for my sister. She looks much like myself. Her name is Nightshade."

Nope. No shattering realizations for me. The dark brute beside him was still searching; Damien could feel it. His attentions, however, has shifted to the femme from the mountains. Ever so slightly, he relaxed at this. He felt almost sad he chouldn't tell her where this Nightshade was -- he still felt the pains of being separated from his own sister. My case was a little different....she betrayed me. "I'm sorry," he woofed honestly, "I've never heard of a wolf named Nightshade."

[Destiny]

Not surprisingly, the 'reprimand' of the she-wolf went straight over his head. Or, at least, it was, in its entirety, ignored in the fullest. Perhaps he simply did not care that she had said it, perhaps his choice of word had been nothing more than a slip of the tongue, which he was not inclined to apologize for readily. Either way, she was ignored, and the old Alpha took a step forward, that brought his old face into the light. Surprisingly, he didn't have the weathered look of an old wolf - features appeared youthful, with the exception of those aged eyes. Not a thing too uncommon among alpha's, but it might have been a bit unsettling to anyone who wasn't aware of the whole 'several lives' deal that alpha's got. Oh well, not his problem, and all that.

Due to the whole 'face no longer in shadow' bit, the movement of Iver was visible when that word, that name, pierced his ears, which twitched in response to it. The sturdy as stone wolf flinched. One eye half closing, before he corrected himself, suppressing a shudder so that it was only slightly visible. For a few moments, a few bloody long moments, he stared at Whisper, in an almost incredulous manner. As if he simply could not believe this. But some distant portion of his mind could, and that was the part that remembered the night he had told Nightshade to go home. The night Oak's words had haunted him too greatly.

Wolf turned his eyes from her, so that gaze could settle itself upon the great stone in the midst of the clearing nearby. The stone where he no longer stood once every moon cycle with the other leaders. The stone where he had once stood so near Nightshade. What a night that had been. When muzzle parted, there was a pause before he spoke, and when the words did finally free themselves of his jowls, they were hoarse. They were the tired words of a dog beaten too many times. A horse run to the point of lameness. A worker broken, both in spirit and in body. "I know of Nightshade." Was that love, in that voice of his?

[.Rabid Lycan.]

As the atmosphere relaxed, his eyes roamed more independently of his initial glance. He studied the newcomer, with her gentle curves and the sheen of her coat—not quite silver, with the gentle tints of hues of steely cobalt accentuated by reflected starlight. The gentle rise and fall of her chest, yet all the same not so gentle. A sense of urgency.
Catching himself staring, Icarus rose his gaze to meet her eyes as she spoke. Something familiar struck him immediately, his eyes softening further.
She’s been looking for family, too, then? Well, let’s pray to the stars that they didn’t end up like Alastair.
“I’m afraid, m’dear, that I don’t recognize that particular name. My sincere apologies, from one wolf in searching to another.”[/font]
His attention shifted, however, at Iver’s sudden movement. The gypsy narrowed his gaze, viewing Iver for the first time in full light, and wondering how the old male’s eyes had grown so tired. But even Icarus, having the faintest idea who Nightshade was, let alone where she would be, blinked in a jolt of surprise. Well, isn’t that a coincidence. Someone’s looking out for us tonight.

[Sivoncé™]

She hadn't really expected any of them to bring forth any new information about her lost sister; these were loner wolves, collected here only by the mere chance of passing each other while each was in a favorable mood. Roamer wolves were smart, but Whisper wasn't sure how much intel they would have on packwolves. She sighed softly, but smiled kindly at Damien and Icarus. The smile was more for Icarus, though, along with the understanding that glistened in her eyes. So he's searching too? Poor guy...
"I know of Nightshade."
Whisper's entire body whirled to face Iver as he leaned forward into the light. He eyes were a storm of emotions; shocked, elated, pained, tortured, and confused all rolled over her with a sudden wave of force. For a long moment, all she could do was stare at this strange wolf and breathe softly.
"You know her?" And then the rest came out in a sudden torrent.
"You know my sister? We had to leave her behind, so long ago, during a flood...Mother wouldn't take us because the waters were too dangerous....but I followed her and....Nightshade stayed with a pack called Silver Mist. I've searched long and hard but very few see to remember there ever being a Silver Mist and oh...please -- can you show me where I can find her?"

Damien watched the conversation, mildly unsettled by the coincidence. He shrugged his shoulders uncomfortable at the exchange and looked to Icarus. He sighed softly, and lamented as the she-wolf's eyes flickered with anxious happiness. "I don't know what it feels like to go searching," he woofed to Icarus, "but I do know what it's like to be left behind. It's not exactly pleasant. Who knows if this Nightshade wants to be found after all of these years?" He felt guilt weigh down on him the moment the words were formed, but memories of Sanceul were souring him. The more he thought his bitter thoughts about her, the more he could see the resemblence between herself and Secret Fang. Secret Fang used her past as the mysterious part. Sanceul used her rituals and gypsy rites that she never fully explained to me. Both left me behind.

[.Rabid Lycan.]

Turning his sights away from Iver and Nightshade, Icarus discovered that Damien was directing his words at him. Settling on his haunches, Icarus swiveled his ears accordingly and listened to the fragment of side conversation. His emerald eyes followed Damien’s form, assessing the male much as he had assessed Whisper—large. Strong. A fighter.
Lowering his voice, Icarus slowly shook his head. “Hey, you never know for sure until you confront the source itself. From the sounds of it, this Nightshade doesn’t appear to be dead, which is a step up. In my experience, I went searching for a wolf called Alastair. Found him dead. And now one search leads to another, and I’m running in circles—basically, searches don’t always have a happy ending, mate. But you can’t just dismiss it without trying, or what do we have left?”[/font] He cleared his throat, glancing up to the sky as if the answer were written in the stars. “’sides, you say you’ve been left behind. Maybe it’s time you did the searching. Who knows—someone might be waiting for you to find them.”[/font]

[Destiny]

For a very, very long moment, the beaten old eyes gazed upon Whisper, both ears tilted just slightly forward to indicate that he was listening to her. A torrent of emotions whirled around in those old eyes - hatred, sorrow, fury, agony, desperation, but, most importantly, and most obviously, love. Sad, dismal, terrible, pointless, heart-wrenching, soul-mate kind of love. Poor old bastard. At any rate, a response did not come from him immediately. Muzzle moved to form words, but head had to dip down for a moment, eyes squeezing shut, and then raise again. Gaze turned towards the high rock in the nearby clearing. Longing, longing, such horrid longing.

The old wolf took a pace away from her, from all of them, enough to bring front paws up on to a smaller boulder, and then his entire figure hauled itself up there. Shoulders were slumped, but his head was lower than them, and tail wavered slightly behind his figure. A heavy sigh slipped from Iver. "Silver Mist no longer exists, per se. They have long since been known as The Siverian Pack, in honor of their deceased Alpha, the Goddess of Winter, Siveria. Crazy bitch she was, at that.At any rate, we all migrated here from the old forest quite a few moons ago, when 'disaster' struck, and yes, your beloved sister came. That wolf wouldn't leave her pack for a fucking shot at eternal life." He snarled out the last bit, but it was more pained than angry.

[Sivoncé™]

Someone might be waiting for you to find them.
Damien's lips curved up in a sad half-smile and he slowly shook his head. "I don't think she's waiting for me -- I don't think that woman would wait for anyone unless she wanted to." He gazed warily over at Iver as he spoke in a long, emotional monologue. For a few minutes after, Damien felt at a complete loss for words. He opened his mouth to begin again, and then shut it once more, his problems becoming more and more insignificant as he watched the drama fold out before him. He sighed heavily and turned back to Icarus with an amazingly light expression. "So, since we're in the mood of grand realizations, anybody know a she-wolf named Sanceul?" In the back of his mind, watching Whisper and Iver from the corner of his eye, Damien felt a tentative seed of hope plant itself in his brain. Maybe, maybe...I could look for her.

Confusion, to pain, to sadness, to admiration, and finally, to realization. Whisper padded slowly nearer to where Iver stood on his rock. She looked up at him with solemn, sad eyes. As Damien had, Whisper waited in a sort of silent vigil for Iver's sorrows before attempting speech. When she looked up from her paws, she gazed at him with a bright, wondrous smile. "You loved her, didn't you? You loved my sister, Nightshade." She wouldn't leave her pack for him....this is why he is so shattered. Her ears flickered as she caught snippets of what Icarus was saying to Damien. With a bold raise of her brow, she adressed Iver again, "I know there is hurt in you, but there is hurt in me also. It seems this hurt comes from a single source....so let us go and finish this hurting. Perhaps you are wrong about where her alleigiances lie. I believe everything happens for a reason. We seek the same wolf -- and time has a way of changing; let's go and find your Nightshade, Iver." Her voice cracked on her last words. "Bring her home..."

[.Rabid Lycan.]

“Really, now? You’re that uncertain?”[/font] Icarus edged closer, prodding Damien with a paw. “Hey, lemme tell you a little story—pretty common with gypsy-folk but I doubt you’ll recognize it. Now, there was this wolf—damn it, I forgot his name—and his brother. Guy falls in love with Vashti the Eagle, who circles above his head every day. But when he asks the Sun for permission to take Vashti as his mate, he is refused. So, with his more cowardly brother, he climbs a mountain and leaps from the peak as Vashti passes by. True, the Sun does notice him and sends him spiraling into the heavens, but the only one that regrets anything is the poor brother, whose fear of consequence restricted him from acting. ‘cause hey, in the end, Vashti was touched by his devotion and joined him in the sky.”[/font]
He cleared his throat, glancing toward Iver and Whisper for a few moments. Poor guy. Seems like this is just a festival of heartbreak, isn’t it? Turning back to Damien, he broke into another grin. “Now then, play the gallant guardian or the soulful romantic—whatever you select, if she’s alive, you can find her. Well, that’s assuming you’ve known her more than a couple of days, eh? Whatever happens, better than doing nothing… but as for the name…”[/font] He rasped a tongue over his flank a few times over, lost in thought. “…it’s familiar… ah, I know. Never met anyone by that name, but an ol’ Diablo fellow mentioned a ‘Sanceul’. It was a long while ago, though, so I don’t believe that’ll be any good, I’m afraid.”[/font]
He then glanced toward Whisper once more, and nodded approvingly as he caught the last bit of conversation. “Now that’s the spirit.”[/font]

[Sivoncé™]

Wait a minute....
Puzzle pieces began fitting rapidly together in Damien's mind. He blinked blankly for a moment, then gazed at Icarus with a cuirous gaze. It's so...strange....such a coincidence! But if they know the same wolf...if they would look for the same wolf...and if they have the same beliefs....
This is completely ridiculous. Maybe it's this place, or this night, or something in the air, but we're all a little bit closer to our neighbors tonight. Everything...everything has energy, and it's connected to everything else's energy. Whisper and Iver and Nightshade....and now me and this stranger I growled at once. Well, not exactly me, but....well, I'm looking for Sanceul. He's in a similar loop.
But...if they both searched for Alastair...how come they don't know each other.
Guardedly, but intrigued, he asked, "Was Alastair...was he your father, Icarus?"

[.Rabid Lycan.]

“Really, all this talk of a dame and you switch topics on me?”[/font] A lighthearted smile assured only good humor. “But sure, yeah—he was my flesh and blood, the very same. Why, did you know the ol’ man?”[/font]
A sliver of sorrow threatened to stir his heart, along with a twinge of hope. Does this guy know what happened to him? I mean, slaughtered, sure… but how was he? Any… new mates? …children? But he dismissed the thoughts, his tail swaying in a casual sweep.

[Sivoncé™]

Damien ignored the light teasing, and was suddenly overwhelm with confusion and intrigue. If he was searching for Alastair...his father....they were somehow lost or separated for who knows how long. He felt a small stab of worry at his pained heart. Things happen as time passes. It's not like he betrayed his family, though or moved on....he adopted Sanceul.
"Icarus...this may sound strange to you but....Sanceul...she mentioned the name to me before. Alastair was her adopted father. He taught her the gypsy beliefs."
Damien watched as Icarus absorbed the information. He hoped, somehow, that Icarus' good nature and perseverence would persevere themselves. I don't want to pain this wolf...he seems like a genuinely good one. And those are so few and far between these days.

[.Rabid Lycan.]

For the moment, the smile dissolved. A wall of disbelief suspended over his face, shadowing any of the wise cracks and cheerful anecdotes that threaded his persona. He went silent. Then, minutes later, a small smile crept back onto his face.
“Certainly sounds like the ol’ guy. He had a big heart, you know… sometimes a little stern, I suppose, but never unfair. Adopting a kid… yeah, heh, I can buy that.”[/font] He looked up hopefully. “I know he’s dead, but do you know anything else about him? Did he take a mate? Was he happy? I mean… this Sanceul. Can you take me…”[/font] He squeezed his eyes shut. “Oi, that’s right… you’re searching for her.”[/font]
When he opened his eyes again, there was a bit of sadness in his gaze—not sorrow and nowhere near misery, but a sort of nostalgic longing, in a way.
“…well, if she does turn up, could you look me up? I’m usually by the mountains…”[/font] He coughed, grinning sheepishly. “…heh, I probably sound a bit obsessive. My bad.”[/font]

[Sivoncé™]

Damien watched Icarus and felt a growing respect for him as he swallowed the information. I think....and I'm going out on a limb a tad bit here, but I think he's safe. He shook his head slowly as he inquired further about Alastair. "Sanceul's only mentioned his name once or twice. What made me remember really was when you called yourself a gypsy-folk." He smiled ruefully, glancing sideways at Iver and Whisper. "It would seem we've all got some extra connections tonight. If I.....no, when I find Sanceul, I will tell her about you and ask about Alastair." And we'll take it from there.
Damien bit his lip, then woofed sheepishly, "Out of curiosity, could you tell me a little bit about this gypsy stuff? I've only seen a little of Sanceul's, but I don't really understand it. Where I come from...well, the culture never took a liking to me there." Idly, his tail traced a deep scar that ran along his flank. No, I was most definitely not accepted into that neck of the woods.