|When Love Takes Over| (Private)

[Sivoncé™]

Old lupine paws traced across the moonlit terra. Rough and weathered though these paws were, they had the dsintictive grace of one who has walked far, seen much, and still has the courage to keep on breathing; it was a sort of fearlessness about how she walked that made even her slow, aged movements seem regal. It was late in the night; the moon was beginning it's long walk down the stairs of nighttime. Still, colorful lights glimmered brightly in liu with diamond stars. Despite the moon, the night exuded eternity.
Elderly as she was becoming, the fae was only beginning to gray. Her pelt, for the most part, was still a vibrant mess of colors that amounted to an almost purple hue where her silver-blues and russet reds mingled. Her eyes, too, contained those threads of violet. However, she walked with a stiffness that spoke of a thousand years and then some. Her youth was long gone, but she was caught somewhere in between seniorhood and rebellion against these dreaded forces of nature.
Nightshade had taken many walks like this, but something had always pulled her back before she reached this rise and looked out at those territories besides those of the Siverian Pack. She'd stopped calling it her pack a long time ago. Her family was dead.
But nothing was pulling her back tonight. Instead, she seemed the universe seemed to urge her onward as she slowly gravitated to the further reaches of the territory. Before, she had always been afraid she would simply keep walking, and not turn back. She would run away, fearful of these strange trances. The difference now is I'm awake and alive and I can feel it. I can feel it and I'm not afraid.
Finally, I'm not afraid anymore.
She came to the edge of the rise and simply sat in silence, eyes closed in a serene pose.

[Destiny]

There was no air in those lungs that would push far enough to become audible, comprehend-able words or sounds. Voice seemed to have dissipated entirely after the clearing of twilight passed, and fell into the inky darkness behind his paws. The sun had long since set by now, the stars bright in the sky though it must have been some hour of the early morning, and the breeze was no pushier than it had been in the open. Perhaps even less as his paws guided him over the familiar forest paths he had trodden many a time. Some of which had been beaten down by his own paws, and his alone. Specifically the ones that lead from Yozoran territory to Siverian, as he sort of detoured through his leg of the woods so as to follow the path down memory lane. It was painful, heart-wrenching. . But wonderful, all at the same time.

Every once in a while he would flick an ear, or toss a glance back on turns where it didn't seem so deliberate. Only to check and be sure the female wolf, Whisper, was still hot on his trail. Without her, there was no way in Hellfire, in the name of Lupus and Death and Flame and Verlust and Golden Wolf, Destiny, Yozora, Sheera and Siveria, that he could face Nightshade. He simply could not do it. It was not possible. His heart, or at least the remaining pieces, would shatter. If a wolf could die of heartbreak, that is what would kill Iver in the end. And that is no stretch of exaggeration, it truly isn't.

The closer he got, the more the wind shifted, until finally he was in a position where he was pushing into the breeze. His scent was being dragged backwards now, not forwards, which meant if she was there she wouldn't have the time to realize his presence until she saw him. Hopefully, at least.

Paws picked their way through the undergrowth, until finally it occurred to the old wolf that he had taken a long and unnecessary route. Her scent had caught his nostrils a little while ago, and getting his bearings, he realized they weren't all that far from where they had initially been that evening. No matter, though.

Cautiously, his figure came to a stand still, nose twitching slightly, old gaze settled on the female that was none to far from where he now stood, lurking just in the shadow of the brush. What to do, what to do. . .

[Sivoncé™]

Whisper followed close behind her shadowed companion, but maintained a small distance between them. She sensed a growing wariness and uncertainty about him as they continued on their journey. Was it fear she saw in his eyes, or something else? Fear of what? Or what was that emotion lingering there? He's practically tearing himself to bits. Their love couldn't have been all that smooth, I guess. Darkly, she wondered, what kind of wolf is this sister of mine if she's broken this wolf's heart so completely he can't stand to be near her? Or that far away from her, for that matter.
And then she saw the lone figure through the brush and her paws stopped moving.
How in hell she was going to do this, she didn't know. But she could practically feel Iver trembling in the air beside her, though he may have not been literally trembling at all. She sensed it inside of him.
"You have to go to her, Iver," she whispered, barely aware that the words were ghosting across her lips. "I have waited an eternity for a glimpse of her, but it does not matter with you standing beside me. Go to her, and I will wait."

Slowly, the eyes of the femme opened and her ears twitched questioningly. She looked towards the brush behind her. Voices?

[Destiny]

Inside he was quaking, yes, this is quite true. His hear seemed to throb in his chest as if the very sight of this wolf gave him knew life and rekindled the youth of his current one. It was a strange thing, and he neither welcomed it nor refused to accept it. Mind had reeled into a state of semi-confusion - actually, no, that's incorrect. It was more of 'clarity' that was agonizingly painful and made one wish they were simply confused. Horribly, bitterly, painfully confused. His stomach reeled, the contents threatening to push past the upper sphincter, but he somehow kept it down. A gulp of fresh air was taken, then another, until his breathing had settled back into a regular pattern.

Muscles were all tensed, then released, and he quickly smoothed down the fur on his pelt to make it a little more decent looking. Body was given a rough shake, just enough to loosen him up a bit and return a level of semi-comfort. Nerves required a little settling, to be honest. Swiping tongue across his muzzle, the old wolf stood straight and tall, tail held just a little bit above half-mast. Eyes were closed for a few moments, before they opened again, and he dipped his head quickly in a nod to whisper. "You're right. I need to go. I need to do this." Gaze turned to the younger wolf, and a sort of 'thank you' look was given. There was respect in those old eyes; that wasn't often a thing that Iver gave to others. She was a rare exception.

Slowly, painstakingly, the brute ventured out of the shadows which had so graciously veiled his figure from sight. First the eyes were visible, just barely, in the light of the night. Soon after, though his pelt still appeared to be a darker array of colors than it truly was - he thought this night-time look better suited him these days, anyway - the front half of the youthful looking body was visible. And then there he was, standing straight and tall but clearly terrified, agonized, and a few other things beyond comprehension. "Hello, Nightshade.."

[Sivoncé™]

Whisper took a deep breath, and closed her eyes as she settled into the underbrush. As much as her heart wailed in complaint, this moment was for Iver and his Nightshade. The time for reunion was not now; it was later.

Frozen. Every bone in her body was suddenly rigid as she sighted the creature that stepped out of the shadows. For a full minute, she merely gazed in confusion at him, as if he were someone she knew, but couldn't quite place. A few times, she even blinked, as if to clear her vision. And then, slowly, she stood and turned to face him, pelt bristling with tension and anxiety. What? Is it really....what's happening? Am I dying now? Experimentally, she stopped breathing. She winced with the tightening pain she felt in her chest. With a sharp intake of air, she forced herself to face reality.

And suddenly, she was completely terrified. She gazed weakly back at him, panic-stricken. Her body seemed to cringe as she made herself smaller, swallowed by an all-consuming, overpowering bout of fear. A few times, she opened her mouth to try and form words, but all that passed from her lips was strangled, monosyllabic expressions of despair, agony, and above all, wonder.

"I-Iver? Is that....is that really you?"

And then, heavy, gentle sobs shook her body as she began to cry.

[Destiny]

This was not quite the reaction that had been expected, but at the same time it did not surprise nor startle him. He supposed it was strange that he had survived for so long, being older than Nightshade by quite a period and all that. Still, his lives were not out yet; he still had a few under his belt. Being careful with them, and being a survivor-type probably had something to be with. He was one lucky bastard of an alpha, that was for sure. Had she expected him to be dead by now, and that the reason for his long period of disappearance? That wouldn't have surprised him, either, and in fact it was probably the best possible thing for any wolf to think, truth be told. It saved him from the fury and hatred of the pack wolves, and those weren't things he wanted to or felt the need to suffer through. He had served them. That time was over for his life, and that was all there was to it.

Carefully, slowly, paws guided him forward, tracing a long forgotten path from the edge of the trees to the top of Silentnight's rise. Of course, out of some strange feeling of respect, and what verged on terror, he did not go too close to her, but stopped about half-way up the path, and stood there. There was a regal-ness about the way he stood, and it was not purposeful but simply a manner of standing he had long since adapted. However it also held a strange humble-ness. It seems like an impossible combination, but Iver managed to pull it off without realization as he stood there, gazing up at the wolf he had loved, hated, feared, and loved still.

Finally, a soft sort of 'smile' managed to push its way onto his features, and an ear flicked in an almost nonchalant manner. "What? Didn't think I was dead, did you, Nightshade?"

[Sivoncé™]

(This is the most depressing couple we've ever had )

It was as if her entire body was in a seisure; each choked cry seised through her body in a painful spasm. As he took his small paces forward, she sobbed harder, but then, as he sat, she softly calmed, though the tears still poured freely down her face like a waterfall. She could not look at him, yet she could hardly bear to look at the ground that was in between her paws, littered with scars in the rock from the past memories of the rise. She closed her eyes, squeezed them tight, and kept them shut for one long, torturous moment. Slowly, her breathing calmed, and the spasms dulled.
But still, the tears trickled down.

So many responses to that once question.
Where did you go? Why did you leave me here all alone? Why didn't you try harder? But he had tried with all of his might, Nightshade knew. She could've gone with him, wherever it was that he'd gone.
Why do you look at me like I'm a leper? Why did you leave your pack? Why did you just go and forsake everything? Because Iver had been willing to do it for her. And now, all he could do was stare fearfully at her, for she was the one who had shattered him so.

"No, not dead," Nightshade whispered, breathless, "but it was as if you'd walked from my world and into another realm entirely."

[Destiny]

To watch her like that, in this kind of a state, still pierced his heart somehow. It was a terrible feeling, and vaguely he wondered what it was he longed for and was so attached to more - Nightshade or the forest itself. For a while he had been certain that it must be the latter, or at least had told himself that this was so. However now it seemed that it was in fact the former, and that he was simply an idiot. Running from his problems like they could just go away. This would never go away. Not even once he had died. No, not this kind of a feeling. It didn't rightly matter that she had made him hate her. It didn't matter that he had almost died at least two or three times during their 'affairs', and had in fact once lost a life if he remembered correctly. It didn't matter in the least that he had never felt such sorrow, not even when his first beloved had died - and that had been a wretched incident, than he had felt while trying desperately so to court Nightshade. No, none of that was important now, as he sat there, watching her with an expression that shifted from terror, to fear, to heart-wrenching sadness, to something else that wasn't quite place-able.

A reply was not immediately given to her own, the conversation momentarily silenced, broken, paused if you will. It wasn't for a very long period of time, but it seemed to weigh down on him, as if the air now held the emotions of the two of them so fully that it was beginning to solidify. Finally, he rose once again, and padded several paces farther up the rise, coming with a half a dozen wolf lengths of Nightshade. Nothing either of them couldn't cross within seconds, but nothing too close, either. It was a comfortable distance if you were two wolves just stopping for a chat in the forest somewhere. It was not a comfortable distance now. Iver wanted to be in one of two places at the moment - one of them was at the bottom of the Twilight Lake, and the other was at Nightshade's side. He could not be at either. He would not press upon her again. She, she was fully in control of herself, and he would not push. Not yet, anyway.

Finally, finally, his jaws parted once again to allow voice. "Now I would never do that, such a thing as that is, without letting you know first, warning you, that I was going to be gone. And whether or not it was for good. Now would I?"

[Sivoncé™]

Closer now. Her breath caught at his movement, and it took her a moment for her heart to stop racing in her chest as he sat once more in a position that suggested they were merely having a friendly conversation between old friends. Old as they were, Nightshade knew Iver didn't come here as a friend. Perhaps, he came here as an enemy, but her heart didn't really believe that one. It hoped, a desperate, unlikely hope that he had come as a lover. She didn't know what she was doing until her paws were moving forward; suddenly, they were inches apart, and it was somehow her doing. But she sat, mirroring his previous motions and manner. At first, a flicker of sharp pain snapped through her insides. And then, she felt dizzy and light like a feather at their sudden closeness.

"But why are you here now?" The words came from numb lips in a strangled whisper -- strangled with agonies untold. "Isn't that what you're here to say?" She was trembling again, tears streaking from her eyes and a feverish sweat forming on the back of her neck.
Don't say it please don't say it god please don't let him say it someone stop him please don't say it don't say it don't say what I know you want to say...

Her next words were dead, lifeless creatures; they passed from her lips idly, emotionlessly, and yet, so much pain, anger, and regret fired in her nightshade eyes that they were charged with a reluctant energy. "Do you know how many times I came here, ready to leave? This isn't my home anymore, Iver! My family are dead and you were gone, and I wanted to leave! But you were gone. I felt like a trapped bird who couldn't fly; there was no way out for me. And the catch in this is that it was my own damned fault."

[Destiny]

The approach startled him slightly, but other than the slight widening of his eyes which seemed to grow older by the minute, and the slight raise of the fur on his shoulders which, for the most part, soon settled down again, he did not appear to be taken too off guard. Still, those subtle things were enough to let anyone who knew him know that something he was not ready for had happened. But he did not get up and leave, nor did he take a step back, away from her. He did not go closer to her, either. They were close enough unless she wanted to be closer than that. He hoped she did. But he would not be the one to pick up his paws and move. It was her turn to be the pusher. He had exhausted his ability so long ago that it seemed an entirely different personality had once inhabited his body, though who knew this to be so untrue.

As he gazed at her, and she mentioned family, two images flashed before his eyes once again. They seemed entirely unconnected to Nightshade, but they were connected to each other, and vaguely Iver wondered if that wolf - Lithium, his name had been Lithium - and Damien were at all related after all. Then there was that image of Whisper, and he knew he soon had to tell his beloved the reasons for his coming here, because that female, though she had driven him to think on it and to be courageous enough to come, was not the only reason. Not anymore. The moment he had stepped from that shadow, that shelter of the trees, he had known that he was here for another reason. His heart had already had its plans made, and put them into motion, and now it was the time to act on them, because there might not ever be another time, and he could no longer risk waiting. It was too great a risk to take. He was old, his lives few, and she had only a single to live.

Very slightly, he leaned forward, gazing into her face, those eyes he could never forget if she would permit him to. Muzzle opened, and it took a few seconds for voice, hoarse as it was when he started to speak, to reach his lips once again. "I never left you, Nightshade. I was never as far as you thought. I might have left my pack, but I never left you. I was just over the rise all this time." He paused there, turning his head towards the brush from which he had come previously, upon entering the open that night. Then he turned his head back to her. "And your family. . They are not all dead, Nightshade. Not all of them." His voice cracked on the word family. All he had was Pernille, and she was dead to him. She was a pack wolf through and through, and though she was his daughter, he no longer felt that strong connection, that bond, with her. It was as if she was apart of a past life, a past Iver.

And that life was truly over. But this one? This one had only just begun.

[Sivoncé™]

On step closer. Just one step closer. She didn't know how, but suddenly she was there again. One step closer to burying herself in him than she had before. She swallowed hard and breathed slowly in an attempt to stall her rapid heartbeat, but to no avail. She sighed heavily blinking back at him with misery in her eyes. What is he talking about? He knows my life as well as I know it. He knows they're all dead and gone....each and every one of them. And not even my adoptive family are alive. Real mom died in a flood....my realy dad either did too or was lost in some other way. No siblings. Amaya was murdered by Death. Oak, Heather, Blue Moon, Mystic, Silentfire, all killed by Blood Mist. Even Corsivo, too. All that's left are Mystic's other children, but they don't know me as their family. I don't feel like their family.

Something came over her then.
She felt the air sucked from her lungs as she took a final step forward, and slowly pressed herself into the depths of a pelt she knew so well, despite the fact that it was not her own. Around her, his scent swirled and intoxicated her nostrils. The moment it happened, she stumbled away again out of dizziness and the possibility of fainting. But she couldn't stay away any longer; Nightshade let herself go into Iver's potential embrace.
"Take me away with you. I should've said it eons ago, I know, but I'm saying it now, Iver. Please...if you'll still have me....take me away wth you."

[Destiny]

It didn't startle him now, nor did it scare him. It suddenly seemed as if he were beyond both things. As if they had both dissipated entirely into the realm of non-existence as they had stood there, so close together, and yet so much closer in so many ways, but so far apart whilst they did not touch. It was a strange feeling, the loneliness when he should have known that he was not really, truly, lonely. But it was not until that fateful moment when she took that one more pace forward, that pace that brought oh so unbearably close, that he was almost certain that two things would happen. Possible outcome one, she would kill him, for all that he had done to her and put her through, for who he was, for what he wanted, and for what he had so constantly asked of her. However he did not like this outcome, and did not want to think it the more possible or likely one. Possible outcome two, was that she was about to do what he had been hoping, praying, begging for her to do for so damn long. Desperately, he hoped that that was the outcome that she was about to present to him.

And then it was, and though she pulled away so quickly he reveled in that sweet, tantalizing, delicious moment that made his heart flutter in the strange way that she always did. Without fully realizing what he was doing but knowing that it was right and that he wanted to be doing it, he stepped forward that little bit, and leaned into her. Head coming around her shoulders in that odd but sweet way that wolves so often 'hug'. He did not break this hold too quickly, and held it for some time, as the morning wore on, the sky still dark but slowly paling to a blackish-gray. The moon having drifted now out of the center, where it had shone for so many hours earlier on in the night, whilst he had been at the lake of twilight. "Of course I will, Nightshade, and of course I shall."

Withdrawing his pull, he brought his nose to press, not too hard but none too lightly, against her, eyes closing for a few moments. Finally, he spoke once again. "But first. . Nightshade. . There is someone whom you need to meet. . Someone who gave me the will to pass the clearing of twilight and come here tonight. . And someone who has been looking for you for a very, very long time. ."

[Sivoncé™]

At last, those words, so sweet, so tender, were spoken and heard. A sudden warmth, heated passion, spread across her body. Dizzily, she looked back at Iver, expression dazed, with a small smile spreading across her lips. Her heart beat too fast, and her breathing was irregular, but she no longer tried to keep them in check. She closed her eyes once, against the world spinning sporadically around her, and then opened them. Still tear-eyed she beamed at him in the happiest smile anyone had ever seen. Under her pelt, she blushed like she used to, back when they were mere children caught in love's snare. I've waited so long for this.

His next words were mildly troubling to her now; she was not at all eager for them to be anything but alone with each other now that they truly, at last, belonged to each other. Finally, she knewit would be warm where she chose to rest her head at night. She tilted her head at him slightly. "Iver...what are you talking about? My family are dead, all of them, even the biological ones, they all died long ago--"

"Hello, Nightshade."
Whisper knew it was her time to enter; she rose to her paws and moved anxiously through the brush, towards the wolf she knew, without a trace of doubt, was the sister she had been searching for for such an agonizingly long time. As the she-wolf approached, her silver-blue pelt shimmering in the moonlight, her breath caught in her throat. She looks so much like Lacrymosa....
"My name is Whisper, and I am your sister."
She braced herself for what she knew would be denial when Nightshade spoke next.

[Destiny]

The smile on his muzzle was small, but it still somehow managed to carry to those eyes, and they seemed to brighten with the happy understanding of everything that had just happened. The truth of it, and the reality it meant for the two of them. There was a foreign but welcome chill in his heart for a second, that seemed to burst into a heated flame, as if something had just blossomed there, or the pieces within had been grabbed up and welded back together like steel. It was truly amazing, and he stayed as close to her as possible even whilst she absorbed everything that he had just said. Right in that moment, he would have much rather led her away into the forest. Away from the packs, away from the forest itself, and off into the mountains. That was where he needed to go, that was where they should go, to get away from the packs. But maybe they wouldn't go quite that far, and would remain in the far outskirts of the trees. Either way, he would have liked to have been able to be alone with her, just himself and her, for the rest of that night. It had been so long since they'd been together, and he missed it. He longed for it. He thirsted for it. But that couldn't come just yet. This had to be dealt with first.

Head turned towards Whisper as she finally chose to appear on the scene, and he quickly repositioned himself to be standing along-side Nightshade. Gaze fell to the other female for a moment, and he stared at her, before looking back to his love. There's no way I could be mistaken. . They have to be sisters. They just have to be.

[Sivoncé™]

Nightshade's eyes moved disbelievingly from Iver to Whisper. Slowly, she shook her head with growing force and certainty. "No," she barked firmly. "I don't have a sister! My mother only had me, and then she died!" Confusedly, she blinked towards Iver again. He is mistaken....terribly, terribly mistaken. I don't understand why he would do such a thing! We're together now, what purpose does a hoax like this have? To finally draw me away from my pack? As soon as she thought it, she dismissed her dark thoughts. No, Iver wouldn't do that....but this wolf. She turned to thoroughly study Whisper, gaze incredulous. There was a remarkable similarity in appearence; perhaps Iver really had been convinced into believing this Whisper was family of Nightshade's. She couldn't blame him; she'd gone through her dilusional days without him there, too. And yet...
Nightshade hesitated, frowning deeply as she peered at the wolf. The she-wolf was a vibrant silver-blue color, with a thick, mountain pelt. Her eyes were a light, almost colorless blue with the slightest hints of....violet. She froze with uncertainty, and eventually, murmured stiffly, "Tell me about yourself, Whisper."

Whisper had been well-prepared for this, but still, she felt her heart ache with rejection and anxiety. It's not her fault, Whisper reminded herself. How is she to know she had a sister? The experience was more traumatic for her than it was for us. We were both so young....it would make sense for her not to remember. In the back of her mind, Whisper toyed with the possibility that the only reason she remembered Nightshade herself was that Lacryomosa had talked about her so often.
"Well," she began gingerly, "Our mother is Lacrymosa, and our father is Lithium. Both came from a small mountain tribe, but they were wiped out in a fire. Lacrymosa was the only survivor, but she believes Lithium survives as well and has dragged me around searching for both of you as long as I can remember. Before we were born, she came to a pack called SilverMist." She paused, and looked uncertainly at Iver. "He says SilverMist don't exist anymore. But anyway, she came there for protection because the spring floods were starting and she couldn't find a whelping den. SilverMist offered her a temporary, and later permanent home. After we were born, she planned to leave. She saw how the packs lived and like their lifestyle, she thought it was safer than being a rogue. So, she left us there and made to leave but I followed her. I nearly drowned, but she got to me in time. And after that, she didn't want to take a risk crossing the floodwaters with me. You were left with Amaya in SilverMist, who told you, at my mother's wish, that she had died in the floods. Mother didn't want you to get ideas and come looking for her like I had, you see."