`bury` the `castle`___open

[Sivoncé™]

What do I even say? Hey, Dad, Rhain, you guys were totally right, Flame and I should've stayed up there with you and whined about how we need to figure out what to do about this Hellfirian mess cause my plan totally failed. Psht. Yeah right.
Death wasn't even sure why he was here, really. He should probably be back upstairs with Rhain, Lupus, and all the other big shots trying to figure out what the hell happened to Hell. At the very least, he should've sent out a pack of rabid hellhounds to eternally torture whoever thought it was a good idea to flip Hellfire's "off" switch. Or better yet, he could be trying to locate said switch and return it to it's proper position. And then built a moat and put some fucking dragons around that thing.
The best part of all of this was that nobody, not even his guilty pleasure named Wolfie, knew he was here. Sure, she literally knew of his existence, but she didn't know his name was Death. He was having a heck of a time trying to remember what the fake name he'd given her had been. Seth? Leth? Meth? Ha...
Death floated over to the Eternal Tree -- floated because he was nothing but a phantom here on Earth. Reincarnation had not worked so fool-proof for him and Flame as it had for the Hellfirians. He was ridiculously pale and ghost-like, and it was summertime for cripes' sake! He eyed his semi-transparent pelt with growing dislike.
Instead of trying to speak to any of the Twilighters, he simply sat and gazed at the tree with resignation.
"If there's nothing I can do to help the packs, I'm alive, and I might as well enjoy myself."
He was going back to the crack pack Lupus Mist first thing in the morning.

[Destiny]

Well, as things go life hadn't been all that bad. Probably about a three on a one-ten scale, but that said at least he hadn't been apart of any Hellfirian related battles or otherwise mauled and / or murdered, molested, attacked or generally brutalized. Not recently, anyway. There had been an incident regarding some newly reincarnated wimps quite a few moons ago, but he'd been younger then, and had learned a lot about how to deal with wolves since. That's just how it is when the son of your pack's 'Mother' abducts you, only to lose you in a snowstorm, and you're rescued by an 'aunt' and some 'pack mates' only to be lost again. At least he was alive. That was a plus.

Generally speaking, he wasn't entirely sure why he'd ended up wandering back in this direction. Perhaps he subconsciously missed pack life and wanted to see his parents again, but part of him knew the chance of any of them having survived the mountains was slim. And what did his mother and siblings even look like anymore? It had been too long. It didn't much matter anymore, he figured, and they'd probably long forgotten him anyhow.

None-the-less, he found himself meandering along rather near the Eternal Tree, which he only knew was called such due to gossiping loners. It was surprising how much those wolves talked, it really was. At any rate, as Zarcon wandered near the large thing that he felt a strange and confusing connection with - Maybe he would've been Healer material once upon a time - he was completely oblivious to the presence of any other being. Let alone Death.

[Sivoncé™]

Death, now leaning his back casually against the rough, twisted bark of the Eternal Tree, caught sight of another wolf nearby. He froze, uncertain of whether or not to reveal himself. It took some getting used to, but now Death was quite all right with the fact that most creatures had to take a closer look or a second glance before they really spotted him. It helped his cover, and some wolves he really, really did not feel like messing with. Especially when it came to the handful of Blood Mists that would recognize him from his days as their leader. He cringed when he thought of just how well that reunion would go.
This particular wolf, however, was not one that he recognized or had ever laid eyes on before. In some spontaneous decision of 'hey, what the hell, let's have some fun', Death ghosted from the side of the tree and plopped down right in front of the stranger with a smirk.
"Hey there, buddy, ol' pal. You look a little lost, son. I'm Death, what's your name?"

[Destiny]

Now, it wasn't so much that the sudden appearance of another wolf took him off guard. Nor was it the fact that said wolf appeared to be more than a little bit transparent, and was therefore most certainly not alive. The part that nearly made him 'shit his pants' was the name. Every wolf knew that name, knew what it meant, knew who he was, and Zar' was no exception to the rule. He was, however, having a little bit of trouble composing himself, and took several seconds to realize that his jaw had dropped open to the point of nearly hitting the ground.

Straightening himself up, as much as he could anyway, Zar' did his very best to not look like an absolute fucking moron, or a child, for that matter. With something bordering on dignity, he fixed a few fluffed up patches of fur, and eyed Death. Or, well, eyed the tree behind Death. "M' name's Zarcon. And I'm not really sure if I'm lost so much as I don't really know where I ought to be going."

[Sivoncé™]

With satisfaction, Death watched as Zarcon's jaw dropped to the ground. A smirk appeared on the ghost-wolf's maw as Zarcon hurried to collect himself. Out of almost everything he'd done so far while roaming the world of the living, that had been one of the most amusing. He stifled his laughter, however. He had a feeling this wolf may be useful for more than just a prank or two. He's looking for somewhere to go, eh? Well, if he needs a job, he can most certainly have mine, cause I'm doing a rotten job at it....
"Nice to meet you, Zarcon." He floated a few feet away from the tree, turning to face the other wolf with a more serious expression -- well, as serious as Death could get while laced with wolfnip. "Well, let's see here. The Sheerans are pretty chill right now -- they always are, aren't they? Pisses everyone else off sometimes, but hey, they're hanging in there just fine. Probably doing better than any other pack right now. Then there's the Yozorans. They're probably not gonna be around much longer by the looks of it. I'm not sure if you've heard, but there's this asshole running around wearing another wolf's skull." He got a little closer to Zarcon, eyes glimmering with what could only be excitement. "Wanna know a secret that nobody else but Blood Mist knows? This asshole's name is Bain, and he's the Yozoran alpha. His alias is Hades, but none of the other packs have put two and two together yet. It's too late for the Yozorans -- don't waste time making friends with them now. It's the other three you gotta worry about." All of this was said matter-of-factly, though he'd just dropped a rather unsettling bombshell. "So, that leaves us with the Sivs and the Destinys. The Destinians would be fine and dandy if they weren't so damn dramatic, or if their alpha didn't have a personal vendetta with the Blood Mist alpha. If they get over their little family soap opera, and focus more on their actual pack, they'll be fine. And then the Siverians. When the Yozorans go, they'll be the next target. Their leader is M.I.A. They'll be an easy kill once the Yozorans are gone."
He paused, possibly for dramatic effect, and stared Zarcon down. "So, now that you have all this information, where do you think it is you ought to be going?"

[Destiny]

What.. The fuck... Is going on here ..... Am I being made privy to the secrets regarding the future of all the packs by Death himself? ... Well. Never would've seen that one coming.

Oddly enough, though it was difficult to tell how much of this information he was actually succeeding in absorbing, it took the young fella very little time to recognize that he had not been asked a rhetorical question. With an expression halfway between puzzled and lost, he glanced around, as if the answer would be in the grass, waiting to jump out at him. When the realization came that no such amazingly convenient thing was going to happen, he took several moments to think about it very, very hard, and finally looked up at Death again. "Well.. Uhm.." Maybe it was just that he wasn't used to talking with, well, someone of such 'popularity' for lack of a better word, but he stumbled at the start. "If I were a wolf with a kinder, braver heart, I would say the Yozorans.. There is always some hope, I guess. But I am not." He paused again, looking past Death for a moment, considering. "If I were a better negotiator, I would say Destinian, but it might be just as well to let them tear themselves apart and keep Blood Mist occupied to some degree for now. And you already said the Sheerans are fine and dandy, so..."

I could always hit up Blood Mist... It would be the smartest choice these days. Kind of boring, though, I suppose.

"That just leaves the Siverians." There was something that might've been triumph lurking in his voice, mingling with the thoughtful air with which he held himself. ".. No alpha, you say?"

[Sivoncé™]

Death waited patiently while Zarcon began to process the information, smiling in a friendly sort of way all the while. It wasn't every day he got to baffle someone to death. Ha. Baffle someone to Death... He was in an absolutely buoyant mood, now that Zarcon had come along. Maybe it was because he actually felt like he was doing what he'd set out to do -- helping the packs by planting Zarcon inside of one, oozing with information that might save somebody. When Zarcon finally came to the designed conclusion, Death applauded him. "Bingo! The other two will survive for now, and I think my undead senses are telling me that somebody else is gonna be stupid or gutsy enough to try a rebellion in the Yozorans. So, my last advice to you would be to sleep in this tree here, get some more advice in your noggin, and then go to the Siverians and let them in on some of what you know so they trust you. In a month, there will be a Moonless Meeting. Be the one to stand up for them, because they're doing a crappy job of standing up for themselves." He paused for a moment, then added, "Nice to meet ya, and best of luck. I'm gonna try not to let you see me again, though, cause my cover is not something I'm ready to blow."
With that, Death took a bow, and then ghosted away into the underbrush.

[Destiny]

There was a feeling similar to that of jelly, or some other gelatinous material, as Zarcon attempted to force his legs to move in the general direction of the Eternal Tree. Not for any particularly fascinating reason, but simply due to the fact that it seemed to him the best possible course of action about now would be to follow the instructions of Death. Because he was, after all, Death. I just met Death. ... Is this the kind of story you're supposed to tell your grandkids if you live long enough to have kids in the first place?

More out of habit than anything else, he looked around for the ghostly figure, but knew full well that he would see absolutely nothing. After this, he turned his head towards the Tree, and slowly pulled himself into its hollow portion, curling up in a comfortable ball to await some sort of advice from someone. Perhaps he had been lucky enough to receive his father's gift regarding the great beyond, perhaps not. Either way, he supposed that, if nothing else, trying to convince the Siverians to let him be their new leader would prove an interesting moon or so. That was an upside after, well, the previous entirety of his life, after all. What did he have to lose?

And so Zarcon slept.

[Sivoncé™]

In the eerie, misted clearing of the Twilight Realm where dreamers often go, Siveria wandered aimlessly. She had ignored the pull when she'd first felt it, but after it had continued, unanswered and persistent, she decided to heed its calling and come to the clearing. It had frightened her for an instant, but she knew for a fact the Siverians were relatively safe, and Kar, her son, was still well and breathing. So what on earth could've caused such a stirring?
And that's when she'd seen Death. After hearing what he'd said, she decided, perhaps, that the son of Lupus had done her and her pack quite the favor, indeed.
"Hello, Zarcon," she spoke in a gentle whisper. She could only imagine the confusion swirling in his mind, after having just encountered Death, and now encountering Siveria. "This must be quite the day for you. However, fate or chance have selected you as the next alpha of my pack. So, and alpha is what I am here to make you."
She paced in front of him, the mist parting as her figure approached. The iridescent twilight matched her well; the blue-gray of her pelt was pronounced as a royal blue hue in the endless moonlight.
"You were not born or bred a Siverian, but in times like these, the packs must help each other. That is not to say we must continue to ally with one each other no matter what; in fact, that may prove most perilous as each struggles to survive. However, we must cross the boundary markers we are so used to in order to preserve the existence of all. You have the blood of a brave and true Destinian and have walked the path of a strong warrior. I can think of few more able and ready for leadership than you, who have kept a level ahead as Death clearly forced greatness upon your shoulders. Now, do you accept this gift and hardship as your own, or am I mistaken that you are the wolf I am searching for?"

[Destiny]

As the world faded away into darkness, his mind began to drift, slipping from a light slumber into the dream state. The mists seemed to cling to his fur like cobweb, holding this new world together, yet as penetrable as the Twilight Lake. His was not the kind of mind to mull over this, however, but simply accept it, and so he was quickly accustomed to the new realm. Letting his paws carry him from the clearing's edge towards its heart, the sudden appearance of a silvery wolf would have been a bit more confusing had it not been expected. With the composure of someone who has already been so utterly shocked today that nothing could really freak him out further, Zar' stood, and he listened.

Perhaps the whole world was playing one big, mean, practical joke on him, or perhaps he would wake up in a few hours and find it had all been a dream, but it felt rather real at the moment, and he supposed that was what mattered.Therefore, his head occasionally dipped in a nod, gaze following her as she traced a mini-path in the immaterial grass before him. "I am honored to have been chosen for such a tasking manner as this is bound to be, and will gladly take on the responsibility that comes with the knowledge Death has bestowed me, and the hardships to come with the position of Siverian Alpha." He bowed low, as a sign of respect for the great lady who was before him. Though they had never met in the past, he had heard many, many stories.