Willow Ridge carry on my wayward son

It had been months since she had been her eldest (or eldest who remained) son. Asriel had been gone for so long she wasn't sure she would be able to recognize him if she saw him again, given the fact that he had left as a youth. Castiel and Deacon had been gone for a very long time as well, both promised to visit her when they could, thus it never seemed they could. @Greer had thus far despite his distance had been loyal to the Ridge though even he seemed to be far less around then his usual display. Besides her youth, Niles, it was Skoll which had always remained. Mostly, he had been a pain in her ass. A male who had countless stirred up trouble, far too many times disrespected her and whats worse, one time to many spat in her face before the pack and broken her trust. Still, @Skoll Archer was her son. A son she could not trust, a son which she often disliked, but a son she still very much would always love.

Needless to say when she picked up his scent, she was both excited and weary. She had not been a part of his ten minutes of fame when Angier and Elettra left the lands, thus bumping him up in command. Both Skoll and Morganna had not rightfully been given nor earned the position, but happened upon it due to misfortunes on their family. Having returned, Elettra had expected a pompous son awaiting, ready to laugh in his mother's face and torment his step father. However, their had been no sight nor scent of him - until now. It was true to say over the winter her scent had decreased quite horridly, though she was certain it was not toying with her now. The dark winter night's chill left a shutter up her spine. "Skoll?" She called out into the twilight.

Things, it had seemed, had finally returned to normal. @Morganna was finally able to have some peace of mind when it came to having someone out on the borders in the dead of night. As it stood, the dark prince had risen from the thicket he had once kept Sven and Piety captive. In the middle of winter it was no longer impressive with its vines bare and the old willow it clung to being devoid of its green blade-like leaves. A quick stretch of his lengthy limbs and the shade was off, ready to do his rounds and see who else might be staying up.

He had trudged along the highways of packed snow when he thought he had heard someone approaching. His nose twitched but he paid it no mind. If some prey had accidentally thought to follow him, they would be sore mistaken if and when they met, but if someone wanted his attention they would need to do more than just shadow his very step. His tail curled about his heels and he kept his head low as he prowled through his sister's domain, on the look out for anything out of place or any trace that might have told of Isolde's whereabouts. The girl couldn't have just vanished into thin air and it was obvious to him that he had missed something and had gone off in the wrong direction when he tried to bring her back home.

It appeared that whoever or whatever had been following him had stopped and, while Skoll dared to move onward, he was ultimately brought to a halt by the pronunciation of his name.

"Skoll?"

The pointy ears atop his head came up and he turned his head around to face the stretches of blue-tinted snow against the darkening willow trunks. Normally, as she and most would have anticipated in his impending arrival, he would have quipped back or merely barked or snapped his teeth. Instead, he readjusted his path and began to forge a new walkway through the snow, the nimiety of the frost and fresh powder no match for his large, journey-hardened physique.

When he came upon the queen, he stood a wolf's length away from her, tall but without any elements of intimidation or challenge of superiority. As fate would have it, they were equals now, with Elettra being beneath Morganna and him maintaining his subordinate rank under his uncle Nicoló. There would be no disputes here - unless she provoked it...

"Mother," he addressed her in a tone that was uncharacteristically calm; and, yet, there was nothing in his eyes, along his body, or in his face that told of his usual scheming. "You seem well..." Again, there was no bite nor edge to his words, not even a trace of spite. "What is it?"

She did not have to wait long. The moment she called out to him through the darkness of the winter night, she could hear him stirring; the shifting of his paws over the still snowy flooring of their home, the brushing of his tail at his flank and his breath as he drew closer. He held himself tall, strong, as any Archer should, though there was not an ounce of superiority or smugness. They were, in all sense of ranking, equal. Though the thought of Elettra ever being on Skoll's level would have never crossed her mind. She was his mother, his elder and to her, she would always be the more dominant one in the group. Tonight was not a pissing match, however. As he spoke, it was empty - lifeless. It did not hold the devilish snip in which it had held time and time before. He radiated an air of nothing, emotionless. "Nothing in particular..." She admits, her paws shifting over the earth and she takes but a single step forward to her creation. The chaos of his personal was so familiar to his father (his true father) that it was sickening. "I just figured...." She takes a deep breath, her stance straightening. In that moment, she was deciding of not if she should even bother continuing. "It has been a while since we have spoke." Other then their small snaps to each other, or sharing a sentence about pack business, she had not fully had a conversation with her son since the day of the meeting. The meeting which she branded him a Lowest for having betrayed her and breaking pack law. Since then Piety had abandoned her child and her mate, something which Elettra could not say she was particularly shocked about.

Skoll had expected her to answer with a high order: she had wanted something from him (maybe a certain food that she needed help outsmarting or a word of comfort), she had new suspicions to chuck at him, or she had come to give him one of his many undeserved scoldings. This wasn't the case. In fact, she had been drawn to his part of the woods by nothing in particular. Nothing but a want to speak with him. His mind immediately set to work and at the top of his mental list he thought of his baby sister who was still missing in the wilderness of Relic Lore. Apart from that, he assumed that she might have wanted to talk to him about Leadership or Uncle Nicolo or, even, Morganna... Maybe even something about Sven or Hecate or the state of the pack.

His tongue felt dry as he came to consider that she might have wanted to "catch up" and just talk. If that was what she had really wanted, Skoll was not sure if he could keep himself together. He didn't want to stop and chat. Not like this, when he worried about Isolde and knew first-hand now what it was to finally feel loss. Skana, Asriel, and Guinness might have finally been the first wolves he had lost, but Piety had only been the second to warrant his grief. Isolde going missing only made the hollow feeling in his head and heart worse. What was even more tragic was that it affected him so much that it had even drawn him away from Hecate when he felt he needed her most. Sparring, even just for play, had been his current and most favorite outlet to relieve this sort of stress.

He sat down, a non-verbal cue to his acceptance of the invitation. She could talk to him for as long as she would like, he decided; he even hunched down so that his crown was held lower than hers. "What is it you want to talk about?" this time there was a sort of sadness that seeped into his tone, his averted eyes was a dead giveaway to the pain he was actively trying to mask. "You're welcome to have me for as long as you need." The veracity in his voice rang true regardless as he met her eyes for a fleeting second. For once, he was going to be the obedient son; he had no energy to spare for the typical spats he and Elettra usually shared.

"Is the boy well?"

Skoll's ears twitched and he gave his mother a gracious nod. "Very," he affirmed. "Independent and headstrong, too." This, he meant as positive traits, things he approved of with @Sven's ever-developing personality. "There was a time when he was... rather... hellbent on trying to bring his mother back; I tried to put a stop to it. I'm wary to say I succeeded." Some sort of emotion flickered across his marred maw. Was that actual earnestness? The aftermath of telling a genuine truth? His eyes did not meet hers at first, but after several seconds, he saw the conviction there, just waiting in those similarly colored irises.

Now was not the time to take up the mannerisms of a wounded sweetheart, the cub whose heart really bled whenever his toy maowse had been snatched away. The time for that had gone and passed. His lips drew into a hard line as he half-assumed, half-realized that his mother might have wanted to mentally test him. That, or she had wanted something else from him. "Is that all?" he asked. Once upon a time, this statement might have been uttered in sheer irritation and a tone that suggested that he wanted to be left alone. Ever still, his patience was relayed, concern lacing his dark features at last. "You're not... worried about something, are you?"Truly, Skoll Archer was figuratively grasping at the air with his jaws, still uncertain as to what his mother was trying to get at.

She remains silent, listening as her eldest son (or as he was seen by all others, granted Asriel had been gone since his youth) explained the situation. Her lips twitches, though she does not snarl at the thought. Front paws shift in her settlement, her silken black ears folding back on her skull. Her eyes of pale silvery could equally match Skoll's own then as he turned to her. There is a delicate sigh that passes her lips before she replies. "It is unlikely as he ages you will be able to keep him away from her. We can only hope that he will find out of his own she is and will always be white trash." The name hissed from her lips, eyes narrowing slightly to see if her son would give her any lip about the words she used in referring to the woman he had 'sworn' himself took not that long ago.

"I worry about many things..." She would then admit. "I worry about Isolde mostly; how long before we can find her, if someone picked her up, if she is hurt.... I worry of the drift in the pack members since Morganna has stepped up and how she will uphold her rank..." After all, she talked to Morganna quite often, knew quite a bit about what was going on in the pack through her. It was her son which she could barely say she knew anymore since those days with his little white maowse. "I worry about your father now that he cannot see." (And thus, could not very well fend for himself to well, nor hunt). "I worry about what you, should you challenge Nicolo to get the crown you have been dying to snatch for so long, and what you plan to do with the pack when you have it." She speaks out boldly, eying her son with much question. There was little ever he could do or say that she could trust any longer.

Elettra's next set of words, statements, and musings did little to get a rise out of her son. Instead, it instilled a sense of deep thought and realization, as if he were beginning to get to know his mother all over again. For most of his adolescent months, she had been a lingering shadow, allowing him to do as he pleased, all while Angier merely tried to discipline him and be the father to be reckoned with. All that time he had forgotten that his mother was more than just a means of support or a figurative "safety net;" she, too, had worries and thoughts and feelings like anyone else.

"I don't think you should worry, Mother," he assured her, his tone still calm and empathetic. "I'm sure Isolde will turn up. Morganna will be fine, she knows what she's doing and Angier's still good. I... I check on him every so often - in the night." The corners of his mouth tightened as to purse his lips. The voice of reason had come from him at last, "That's just how it is. It's always been that way." He looked at her as if to make certain that she knew that she had stated something that wasn't new at all. Out with the old, and in with the new, he had almost said; but, there was a better way to put it: "If they don't support her, let them leave. Weed out potential turncoats, basically."

To her concerns about him - which, frankly, wholly surprised him - he heaved a sigh. "I don't know if I can do it," he admitted, his gaze drifting away from her again. "If... If I did, though, I would only want to see that Willow Ridge be as it is. I want it to be a place for @Sven to grow up whole and good. I've obviously failed with that, I see that now; but, I just want to make you proud."

He tried to sooth her as best he knew who, his words calm, yet lacking any true sense of affection. It was not like him to do so anyhow and any time he tried, it often meant something was up. The odd of her chin is very slight, pondering on Isolde's whereabouts. After all, she was not her only child who had wondered off. Though most of her children had a way of straying a little too far before they were snatched back up, Deacon had been gone for just as long, only to be found and returned by Morganna and, vengeance given by his other sibling, Skoll. Yes, there was nothing in Elettra that could allow her to just simply give up in finding her daughter. After all, she had very few and with Morganna now in power and Angier's health failing (and subtle signs of her own) it was unlikely she would have a chance to gain more.

Elettra couldn't help it, but her ears perked to Skoll's words about checking in on Angier time and time again. It was hard to pin this pair, who when not bumping heads somehow found themselves eye-to-eye. Basically, it seemed Skoll did not particularly like Angier, though still secretly cared deeply for him, even if perhaps this was only due to his mother's sake. Quite frankly, Elettra could not be sure. To her, Skoll was hard to pin-point, as she was a woman who never cared for mind games. She was a woman of direct force, who very obviously spoke her mind. She nods at the mention of Morganna and those who would follow her and those who would not. Elettra did not understand how such a problem had stirred between Nicolo and Morganna, though it seemed like a handful of those in her pack just could not accept the change. Still, it was hard for Elettra at times, though she was able yet still to hold herself in high power and, advise Morganna as needed.

His next bit was more of a surprise to her then the first, causing her head to rise, her silver eyes seeking her son's equally pale ones in wonder and question. "I don't understand..." he admitted, then finally turning her gaze away from him. "It is what you always wanted." She was silent a moment, pondering. Pondering that perhaps now that the opportunity was finally at his paws, he couldn't do it. Maybe it was a game, something he simply wanted only because he could not have it, like a toy, now that had become tiresome as he grew out of it. Certainly, the way she had seen Skoll handle things on a diplomatic level, the pack would be better off without him as lead, but Morganna's guarding aid. However it had become apparent that Nicolo being in this position was becoming far more straining on the pack. It could not last long if Leaders were constantly at one another. "Then make me proud, Skoll..." She spoke, lifting to her feet then and taking a step closer to her son. He had disappointed her time and time again, had spat at her and disrespected her, though there was a time before that when things weren't so rocky. He could better himself, redeem himself. "Protect your home, your family... You can't stand by and let Willow Ridge crumble. It should only go down if we want it to go down, not because someone else ruined it." She knew she was not Leader anymore, though she had no intention of letting her home go just yet. It had to get through this. It must.