[I dream in darkness. I sleep to die.]

[.Rabid Lycan.]

A near-admiring smile split his jaws, the satellite twitches of his ear slow to focus on the fae. Relax. Just relax. “Touché, whoever you may be. Let us attend to this quandary. My name is Lucifer.” He swooped in a low, yet brief, bow. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.”
Steady steps led him along the river’s edge, slow to allow for the winded guest. All the same, he felt his original intentions shifting to accommodate a far more significant matter. Truth be told, he was not starving for a meal, and whatever ebb of hunger that had once plagued him had vanished with the incoming scent of kindred blood.
He restrained a few nervous backward glances, wanting to shed the exposure of the open landscape as quickly as possible.

Ever growing nearer, Mephisto twitched his nose, the proximity of a new aroma astounding him. He halted, the wind still locked in its unfavorable direction, and breathed in the smell the lingered among the grass and dried remains of foliage beneath his paws.
Interesting.

[Sheera]

Tell me, tell me. What makes you think that you are invincible? an amused voice chanted in the back of her brain.
She kept a half step behind him, willing herself to hold a powerful gate until she was out of the presence of this other wolf. Showing weakness was a death sentence but, then again, so was stalking off with a sketchy brute. The corners of Ty's mouth twitched upward at the warmth of the other animal. Sure, she would rather be left alone but feeling living, breathing warmth gives her quite a feeling. Not happiness or extreme joy, mind you, but some sort of comfort comes from the earthy warmth and scent of another.
Ah, darling, is that weakness I see? Enjoyment of company? sneered a voice.
"Shh. No." she snapped back, quietly, her eyes flashing a dull irritation.
Regaining her stronger steps, her gate became more fluid as she followed the other wolf, synchronizing with his pace, slowed due to her temporary teeter. She let her eyes dull to a feelingless gaze, focused straight ahead, and she fell back a few more steps to allow him to lead to way.
"Lucifer," she repeated, her all-business voice still in tact, "what a kindly name," she showed no signs of sarcasm.
She gave a few moments silence before she added in her name to the pool of information, "Tylani," she offered, "that's the name I was given."

[.Rabid Lycan.]

Maintaining a steady alertness, Lucifer swallowed deeply and attempted to act cooly. He offered a slight smile as she spoke, and nodded at words which he only half-heard. The alien presence was growing nearer, and all thoughts of courting the fae fled from his mind.
There was only one objective now.
“Tylani. A fine name as well,” he noted with a nonchalant tone. “Do you live around here?”

The scent grew heavier, and Mephisto stumbled after the potential meal with a merciless zeal. Tired though he may be, he was practically stepping onto the bank and sliding his paws into the damp sand and gravel that lay there.

Lucifer twitched an ear, suddenly detouring into the thickets beside him, and continued walking.

[Sheera]

Halting abruptly, Tylani's ears twitched, picking up a distant noise. Her ears flicked back, listening to the sounds coming from quite a ways behind them. Prey or predator, she could not distinguish, not able to tell if the mixture of wolven scents that flooded her glands matched up with the noises from abroad. After several moments of careful calculation, Ty's paws were set in motion once again, swerving with her very temporary companion into the shrubbery.
"Do I live around here..." the she-wolf repeated absentmindedly, not able to conceive the meaning of the words even as she restated them, "'around' is such a loose term..." she mused.


"No, your sister went off to chase her identity or find herself or something of that matter, Orian," a youthful voice teased in a light-hearted tone, her turquoise eyes examining the massive beast strolling a half-step before her, "besides, I'm getting old, I need you to help me find my way to Eternal Twilight," with that, she bounded in front of him, taking the last few leaps to the riverside, the swirls of russet glistening auburn in the morning sun.
Chiseled and sculpted to bodily perfection, her physique revealed no excess bulk, hinting towards her vagabond lifestyle. The early sunlight gave her healthy coat a heavenly glisten, allowing even the many claw and teeth marks of her brutal motherhood to add to her artistry.
Ignoring the distant sounds and scents of foreigners, she settled into a relaxed sitting position, her banner-like tail curled loosely around her feet.

"Well, maybe she'll bring her back and introduce us to her; I'd like to know what the hell she's chasing after," Orian's husky voice growled with needless irritation, taking his time to follow his bubbly mother to the riverbank, "I'm sorry to tell you that, if you're expecting to die soon, someone, be it yourself or someone else, is going to have to take your life, Fate," his voice was anything but playful.
He gazed at his mother as she waited patiently for him to meet her near the river. Starting with her glistening coat, he took in her overall appearance, deciding that the tattoos of teeth and claw marks that covered her legs and her sides, many of which he had probably carved himself while indulging his lust to sink his teeth into warm flesh (which only burned hotter as he grew older), gave her a sort of unique beauty.
His ears perked then separated, pointing in two different directions. Sounds of movement floated from both directions hinting that they had possibly just missed the passing by of a or a group of canines and were standing right in the path of yet another canine. He took in the scent of the approaching wolf, noting the familiarness of it.
"Look your best, mother, it's time to face your past," his voice was rough, a strange edge lingering on each of his words, he gated to his mother's side and watched with his matching turquoise eyes for his father to arrive.

[.Rabid Lycan.]

“How do you mean?”
Abandoning total interest in the conversation, Lucifer cast a few backward glances. He noted the presence of the fae at his haunches, but his eyes drifted beyond her form. His whiskers shuddered slightly, tingling with the scent. Absentmindedly, his paws began to curve in their path, nearly leading him in the direction of the path from whence they came.

The final heavy footfalls of his pursuit came to a cease, and a fresher reek clouded his original intentions. Pausing, with his toes submerged in river sand and flowing water, Mephisto turned his sights on the couple just down the stream. He stopped, fixating his eyes, as if needing to register their identities. Family, if that was appropriate.
Then again, what was family among their kind?
His eyes narrowed slightly, acknowledging the two with a slow blink, and he made no move to offer any words. The odor of his initial target remained fresh in his mind, but, glancing along the shore, he could not make out her form. The woods. He turned to continue his march without so much as a grunt.

[Sheera]

[[hahah, "just some family of mine, pfft, -keeps going-]]

"I am not too sure," she mumbled, halfway to herself, not seeming too interested in exploring her answer. Her nose twitched as the stink of other wolves joined the mixture. Her eyes narrowed a tidbit as she spoke, "uhm, question, are we running away from this wolf or are we trying to confront him because, frankly, I'm a tiny bit confused..."

Sniffing the air, her moist nose taking in every scent, Fate pushed herself to her feet, quickly, turning her body completely towards the newcomer. Her voluptuous tail hung high in the air, wagging slightly, as she took in his appearance, sweet and not-so-sweet memories of the brute floating through her mind.
Her turquoise pools swam over his rough form, her attraction to him causing her ears to burn and her heart to flutter. Her tail waved quickly, now, as she comprehended his arrival.
"Mephisto, darling..." she barked, a playful tone colored into her words, "you're not going to leave with no "hello"s, are you, now?" A tiny wolf smile was perched on her lips, her ears were perked in his direction.

Orian watched his father with mixed feelings warring in his chest. A protective feeling towards his happy-go-lucky mother made him only angry towards this brute... but an admiration for the many stories his mother had told him excitedly rushed to meet his anger; Fate made him seem like a hero and for all he's done to her.

[.Rabid Lycan.]

A suffocating hesitance weighted on his spine, the desire to continue walking straight ahead nearly consuming his judgment. But, gradually, he turned to face her, a typical blank stare greeting the vivacious fae that clamored to join him. His eyes momentarily flickered to Orian before settled back on Fate’s smaller, more fragile form.
“Hello, Fate. ”
Must you be so clingy?
“You look nice.”
(( -swoons-))

Lucifer glanced briefly back at the fae, for possibly a final time, before directing his course diagonally toward the congregation they had left behind. “…to be honest with you, Ty, I am not a good wolf. I’ve done bad things. Very bad things, according to some. You have no reason to trust me. But this wolf? I know him. Horrible wolf. And I have some business with him. I am afraid I’ll have to postpone our hunting endeavors; in fact, I recommend you turn right around and walk away. I really do.”
He continued forward, as if unaware he had spoken.

[Sheera]

Mmm.Your voice makes me feel all tingly inside. childish thoughts danced through her mind as she soaked in his words.
"Hello, Mephisto. I don't think I've ever heard you say anything so kind," she teased, her smile temporarily disappearing to show faux shock, "in any case, you're looking a tidbit older, love, did your children soak up all of your oomph?" she placed her smile back on her lips to lighten her playful jab.
She assessed his massive form, taking in his presence gladly, distracting her from reality before commenting, "have you a place to go, love? No time for meet and greets with your son and..." only willing lover, "friend?"

"Good plan," Ty murmured to herself, accepting the chance to set her mistake of going off with this wolf straight. She backed away a few steps, nodding, ready to regain her status of lonesomeness. Her voice was kind but thick in a foreign accent as she said,
"Prenez soin et je vous souhaite bonne chance."
With that, she turned away, slowly, and padded forward.

[.Rabid Lycan.]

At last, he paused, head tilted slightly as Tylani made the departure permanent. He dipped his head lower, and murmured a quiet, “Sorry.” He then straightened his posture and bounded off towards his target, wrinkling his jowls as he came ever-nearer.

Mephisto maintained a blank stare, just barely deciding to humor his admittedly favorite mate. Or, at least, some of the time. Is she always this cheery? Who is this guy? “Friend,” he murmured, blinking at her. He turned his head towards Orian. “Son?” What is this kid’s name?

Mephisto lurched into view, Lucifer peering from the concealment of the thicket. Narrowing the ice of his iris, he steadied himself. There were two more wolves now… and a wolf he recognized, no less.
Fate?? Why now?
Noting the presence of his stepmother, of sorts, Lucifer nearly backed down. Not here… but, then, when? Vereor was supposed to be tracking Mephisto to kill him. No telling where he is now… He gritted his fangs, indecisive and opting to remain still.

“…a bit inconvenient, I’ll admit,” Mephisto murmured slowly, “but not impossible, I suppose. Just… give me a moment.” He shifted his massive shoulder blades, slipping along the river path to resume his crouch. If she’s nowhere around, I can always come ba—wait.

To his disbelief, Mephisto began making his way toward the very clump of foliage that he had hidden within. Unable to ignore the opportunity, Lucifer lunged forward, diving into the ground, and springing up to catch Mephisto by his neck. The surprised demon hissed with fury, astonished by the scent that accompanied the assault—never mind the assault itself.

Lucifer, utilizing the harshness of his training, dug in deep, not prepared to be torn away without delivering a massive blow.

[Sheera]

No, curiosity is a sin and interest is a killer...
But this did not stop the charcoal she wolf from redirecting her pawsteps.
Stop, companionship is suicidal and affection is a dead sentence...
Her dark blue eyes, only shimmering light blue when a ray of sunlight streamed through the brush she snuck through, peered forward, following the departing brute to his "business" meeting.
Ty halted as he did, staying several leaps behind him, keeping quiet.
You're only here to take a peak once you see, then you leave, oh, how she wished this bitchy voice ordering her around would choke on a deer tick.

Fate smiled, no less, as Mephisto spoke. Watching him as he padded, oddly, towards a patch of shrubbery?
Oh, my dear, how you have the-- her nose caught a scent, halting her thoughts mid-sentence and, before she could even try to distinguish the wolf in which it belonged to, he revealed himself from the brush and hooked onto her love's neck. She felt Orian tense at her side, no doubt wanting a go at something with a pulse, and she gave him a quick, piercing glare before returning her eyes to the unwelcome scene that exploded before her eyes.
"Mephisto..." she breathed, watching her aged, worn down mate come into contact with a very familiar wolf, indeed.

His eyes burned into the action before him, claws tensing and digging into the earth below him. Bringing down large prey animals with his mother fed only one of his predatory urges; there was always that demonic lust to relieve a fellow canine of his life, whether he deserved it or not.
Orian held himself back, knowing all too well that this was not his fight. Then again, Mephisto was his terrible father, as well, maybe it was his fight.
Mephisto better fucking win. I don't want to have to deal with Fate's postpartum depression if he dies. there was compassion for his mother hidden somewhere in that thought though, even as he said this, his sugar tooth was begging to sink into Mephisto's lifeline.

Ty's eyes watched as Lucifer disappeared from her view and the wordless hisses of, most likely, Lucifer's "business" partner met her ears. She padded forward, body pressed against the ground, ears pinned to her head, taking the place in the thicket in which Lucifer had stood only moments before.

[.Rabid Lycan.]

There was a delay, the synapses of Mephisto’s brain firing off, yet not connecting. The incomplete jigsaw puzzle dangled there like an open carcass, decomposing even as fangs clambered for a deeper hold in his jugular. The pressure tightened, the thick shell of skin rotted with old age, and now submitting under the unnaturally serrated edges of his lethal blade. The sharpness of pain, so rich in his throat, shot through him in an atom bomb of consciousness.
Wake up.
One blink. Two. Mephisto curled his chin, unable to snatch at the creature that held him fast. Too familiar. A prized son, who had turned out rather nicely compared to the other batches. Three blinks. A shame that his own flesh and blood would have to be spilt on the account of an already dying and ill male.
But maybe that was the point.
Always hated the idea of dying of age…
Mephisto released a heavy blow on his assassin, the formidable swipe falling down like the razor edge of a guillotine. Lucifer was smart, he noted. The male had no intention of fighting to cling to Mephisto; he intended to use the counter assault to rip as much as he could from the sadistic beast. A brief grin passed his lips, and he countered regardless.

Lucifer sealed his eyelids, accepting the near-fatal blow to his skull. The leaner brute spun from the parental body, torn from his victim—and dragging with him a grotesquely sizable lump of flesh. Lucifer skidded, tumbling, until he landed on his side. He could hear nothing but the shrill whining of some distant siren, which was echoing somewhere in his subconscious. He blinked, a fuzzy ivory hue blurring his peripherals. He made out a red splatter that momentarily hazed his vision, and a weak cough emptied his maw along with the prized meat.
A portion of his skull had been shredded, the muscles beneath exposed, but the pain currently numbed by shock.

Mephisto staggered, unable to maintain his balance. Crimson spurts ran red from his slackening jaws and partial throat. His posture sagged, until he was unable to stand, and yet the almost admiring grin remained plastered on his muzzle. The agony was rich, and yet he welcomed the change. He welcomed all of it.
I’ve taught you well.
Images of all former victims flitted through his blank stare, each screaming or snarling or in all manner of despairing rage. And yet, their faces were blank. Ghosts. Unrecognizable. For even as he lay there, suffocating in his own body fluid and surrounding by relatives, he knew that he would not be remembered fondly. Never truly as a hero or savior, even as Fate would insist. He knew no one, and, despite all his children, mates, and acquaintances, could not even pretend to offer sympathy. Not for the nameless spirits, and not even for himself.
He would always die alone.

[Sheera]

What an ironic position this was between the two brutes. Trained to kill, that is exactly what Lucifer did; can't blame the sun for making you hot or the water for getting you wet.

A tiny scream escaped her terrified expression. Fate hardly had the chance to breathe before her only love was lying in his makeshift death bed right before her eyes. Her limbs screamed as she basically flew to his form, tears already soaking her fur. She landing heavily by his flank, eyes immediately sending sets of claws to rip open her heart as they took in the dreaded sight.
"Mephisto... Mephisto.. Mephisto... Mephisto," her voice was faint, a whimper without a voice.
Her limbs shook violently, vertigo swirling in her eyes as the scene and the reality crashed into her.
"M-my l-love pl-please don't b-be dea---" as the word began to form, utter agony pulled her onto his bloodied body, taking away her rights to consciousness.
Will you still hold me when you see what I have done?
Will you still kiss me the same,
When you taste my victim’s blood?
So crimson and red,
I feel it flowing from your lips.
My heart is dead and so are you.

Orian watched as his mother rushed to his father's side. He took in the sight of his mother's unconscious form and the bloodied, collapsed form of his father's attacker.
Slowly, he trotted to his mother's limp bodice, sniffing her then his father before licking her ear, turning on his heal and bounding away. The blood was so... tempting. He was almost psychotically angry that he had not spilt it himself. Distancing himself from his beloved mother, he fled to find something to sink his lusty teeth into.

No love, no loss. Take this as a living, more or less, example as to why we do not connect with other wolves.
Ty felt no empathy for the fallen wolf nor the lover who had broken as her loved one perished. Her eyes were not focused on the duo, anyhow; Ty watched Lucifer with a look that could only be explained as "intrigued and impressed."
She pushed through the brush, padding to his side at a leisurely pace, crouched low to the ground, her ribs dragging against the earth. Sniffing his form, she pawed his side, softly.
"Es-tu encore en vie?" she breathed.

[.Rabid Lycan.]

The universe dragged on in slow motion, the batting of one shredded eyelid against the clear aqua of his gaze commandeering an eternity. Another eternity ticked past, his gaze widened once more. The vague breeze tugged at his fur, just as gentle as before. But with it, the sting of his wounds roused in his skull.
He was in the present again.
A voice eased the transition from dying to dazed, and Lucifer fumbled with his jaws to attempt a reply. For a moment, he forgot all traces of language—all knowledge, and all hatred. It stuck like a swelling boulder in his gut, sinking him further into the bloodstained soil. In all honestly, there was only a vague outline of how he had come to be, with his skull wrenched apart and a scarlet tide drained from his cheeks.
Where…?
The very thought stirred him into speech. “…get to Sanceul… white and red…” The words served his own purposes, rather than as a command. He struggled to stand, wincing slightly as the stinging augmented, although he had yet to feel the true wrath of his wounds. “…healer… wherever she is…”

[Sheera]

In any case, it wouldn't matter if she fetched this "Sanceul" or not. He would die without immediate, or close to immediate, care to his wound and there would be no one to point daggers at intrigued little Ty who was just passing by. So, with this in mind, Ty backed away, eyes switching but to an emotionless gaze, then turned, padding away, slowly, at first, then bounding, all her might pushing off the ground with every stride.
Her skeletal body was sending black screens to her eyes once more but she shook these away as she howled, searching the lands.
Sanceul,Sanceul... where could she be...
She struggled to stay conscious; her last meal of mostly-eaten, mostly-rotten hare carcass but a distant memory, now. Her legs shook violently but she countered this with a strong gate, ignoring the screens of black that continuously darkened her gaze.
Where could this healer be?

[.Rabid Lycan.]

No longer concerned with whether or not Damien had selected to follow, the gypsy fae drove onward, with nothing but the fleeting glimpse of a charcoal flash to guide her steps. Had Tylani not appeared so urgent, Sanceul may have adopted a casual amble; the serenity of the forest, of the atmosphere, the nostalgia—it was all too overwhelming to inhale in a single, gulping breath. The boa contours of the river snaked through the wood, reminiscent of the days spent with Damien at her side. First Truth or Dare, one of those rare instances of undiluted pleasure to banish images of Morgan and Hellfirians from the mind’s eye. Sharing dens, back when they fought for personal space in the cramped locations of overturned logs and abandoned badger sets. And now, they curled side-by-side without a second thought.
But Lucifer… why did you call me? You know your fate as well as I.
A sting—almost reminiscent of guilt, but not quite potent enough to pass as such—pricked the shell of her heart. It was so innocent, even for them, back then. That accidental encounter turned quasi-friendship—instructing him on gypsy culture, exploding into laughter at his odd misinterpretations and mannerisms, and, overall, just his presence. The constant presence.
A scent roused her from her reveries. A glance flew upward, the entire system of body language suddenly shifting moods. Her frame tensed, alert, and her pace quickened. Erect ears stirred from their rest, and a hard swallow forced down her throat.
Oh, no, you didn’t—

An eternity had inched past, blurring whatever fabric of reality and illusion that had once been in existence. Forelegs remained achingly stretched forward, claws kneading the ground—or, rather, no longer kneading, but he lacked the energy to withdraw his limbs. Twin black pupils, contrasting sharply with the azure of his gaze, lulled lazily out of focus. His jaws remained split in a silent murmur of speech, but the words had long been lost to the sky.
Moreover, the upper left portion of his skull spilled all manner of blood, fluid, and possibly brain matter, although one could not be certain. His only tunnel of view remained the remains of his father and the incapacitated form of his stepmother. That, and blood.
His pulse and senses grew fainter with every lapse of time, and he did not notice the arrival of his supposed saviors.

Finally, the grotesque sight lurched into view. Hackles spiked along her shoulder blades, her gaze narrowing at what appeared to be a triplet of corpses. Slowly approaching her fallen comrade, Sanceul prodded him gently with a forepaw. Pupils flashing to and fro, her eyes betrayed a vague comprehension of the slaughter, and she was not pleased.“Lucifer, you stupid bastard…”

An ear twitched slowly, possibly in recognition, but he appeared too far-gone even for that.

Flashing her eyes about the clearing, a sort of distress weighted on her. “Hey, you’re better than him, alright? Hang in there, and I’ll fix you up.” She veered away from the scene as she spoke, the bitterness of the lie dampening her tongue with unsavory aftertaste. With a wound like that? On his face? I could always attempt a stitch, like with that Hellfirian lady, but I don’t even think there’s enough extra skin for that. “Can someone find me cobwebs?” She went about gathering supplies for the rescue attempt.