His sleep was restless – dreams of differing faces crept to his subconscious, and the stocky wolf’s paw twitched in his slumber, hi slip curling uncontrolled. Mirren, Vaeta.. Ruiko, Aeylen. All of those he had held dear to, had run from at one point, and then had attempted to find.


All now gone.


Nothing remained except him – the steadfast Tainn determined to rise his father’s legacy once more. It had been all he had desired at one year of age, and now, years later, the realization that he was no further ahead to doing so. Copper Rock Creek could thrive beneath his reign – one day he would go back.


Yet his dreams held him fast for now – visions of the red rocks of the creek, visions of one-eyed Nina. Something lurked in the shadows of his mind – and no sooner could he stride to Nina’s side did the chirp of a bird filter to his dream. The soothing ambiance calmed the nerves of the wolf, his body relaxing as it stopped its twitching. A low chuff escaped him as he became more conscious of his surroundings – the creek beginning to fade from his mind as the birds delicate tune drew him further back to reality.


His gold eyes opened then, sleepy – groggy as he muttered nothing coherent. Stretching quietly, the dark wolf glanced up, seeing the culprit that had lulled him from his sleep – its pale yellow chest puffed out in pride as it twittered another melody, it’s song echoing across the glade he had come to rest in. Unmoving for now, Nios watched it, pushing a breath of air out as he gathered his thoughts.

He hadn’t been awake for long, and yet his eyes did not stray far from the little bird as it continued it’s chipper song. His form stretched languidly once more, a yawn so large escaping him that it caused his tongue to curl. Blinking sluggishly, the Tainn was just about to coax himself upon his paws and check back within the Woodlands when the scent of one of his pack mates drifted by.


No sooner did he come to this realization did Duckweed come to view – the pale youth had a fish in his jaws, and his stride seemed rather purposeful. As sleepy as he was, the wolf expected at least some form of acknowledgement, despite his non-talkative nature, and yet bemusement pressed to his lips as the boy seemingly quickened his pace, his intention to try to ghost by without word becoming quite obvious.


It was too amusing not to partake in, and pushing himself gently up to all fours, Nios gave one last leisurely stretch, his swarthy form dipping in to a bow before pulling up, stretching out his hind legs. “What,” he murmured, his voice the soft rumble of a Tainn. “No good morning?” His stoical mask perhaps hid his amusement, but after a quick pause, Nios’ muzzle canted in an amicable nature.

The yearling almost looked desperate for an escape – was that a shiver he seen? Bemusement flickered to gentle concern – uncertain if the boy was simply revolted by Nios himself, or company in general. Casually, his gaze drifted across the boy, the faint copper scent of blood just hinted at, and yet the dark wolf could not find the reason for it. Nothing bordering danger, he determined.


His own posture remained casual – III. Was hardly a rank to throw around, and such was not in the Tainn’s style, given there was no disrespect between either rof them.. spare that the yearling had practically tried to dance right past him without even a hello.


But Nios could sympathize with that – he had yet to meet barely any of his pack mates thus far and he had been amongst them a few months now.


“You fish, then?” He paused, his muzzle straightening from its gentle tilt. “Maybe you can teach me sometime. I was never very good at it.” He paused then, amusement once more flickering back in his features. “I must be keeping you from something,” he pressed, his lips quirking up in a small grin. Was the fish for his mother? For their pregnant leader? Or even for the pack? In the background, the bird continued its lilting song, and Nios was quietly grateful it had awoken him so he could come across Belladonna’s son.

The boy was terrified – Nios was almost positive of this, and the swarthy male studied the youth with mild concern, debating whether or not he should simply let the yearling ‘off the hook’ and let him on his way. He had debated questioning the pale boy about his mother – perhaps gain some insight on the rather mysterious Belladonna, but all these thoughts flew out the window and the twitchy boy made his way toward him, blinking and dropping his fish to the ground.


The stutter just about hurt his heart in that moment – and for some time, Nios wasn’t even sure he had much of a heart left, given it hadn’t the chance to feel much of anything for anyone these days. The entire situation became quite clear to the Tainn – why the boy was so quick to leave, his desire to avoid this interaction.


He studied Duckweed quietly, determined to keep his face neutral and not react to the stammer as if it were odd. His smile shifted from amusement to warmth, and giving his tail a gentle wag to further initiate friendliness, the stocky wolf gave a gentle shake of his muzzle. “We could take it to Aideen,” he suggested gently, though once the words slipped past his mouth, he realized the last wolf the skittish youth wanted to talk to was the Alpha. “Or, you’re mom. If you don’t mind my company?”

The boy was so sullen and nervous that Nios could not determine if he was disappointed or not – whether at the prospect of Nios tagging along with him, or because he had proposed they offer the fish to another. No, Nios Tainn was Ruiko’s son through and through, and missing the cue of his companion’s edginess, the wolf waited quietly for his response, and a frown was withheld as the pale youth mentioned that he didn’t have to.


“What if I want to..?” His tone was more gentle now – a deeper rumble as his muzzle tilted to the opposite side then. He would only press his company upon the boy for so long before he would admit defeat, but he also didn’t want him to believe that Nios was simply doing him a favor.


He also felt it wise to keep from discussing the notion that he certainly wouldn’t mind seeing Duckweed’s mother again – he couldn’t imagine it would be taken in a way that was amicable only. Yet she had been friends with his brother, and that notion alone stirred his desire to seek her out. Mirren’s missing presence was a lingering heartache, but as each day passed, it became easier to move on.


No doubt, his littermate would have been charismatic and smooth with the boy before them – instantly gaining his friendship. And instead, Duckweed was stuck with Nios – who had offered his one last effort to find a friend in the poor youth.