Peace is a lie, there is only passion.
Through passion, I gain strength.
Through strength, I gain power.
Through power, I gain victory.
Through victory, my chains are broken.

---

September 23; Evening, after sunset; Partly Cloudy; 47 ° F, 8 ° C.

After catching up on his rest, Sköll emerged from the depths of Willow Ridge. Since his little scuffle with Angier, the prince had been biding his time. When he wasn't taking care of Sven and switching off cub-duties (relaying lessons and , mostly, since the boy was much too old now to be cub-sat), he was stalking the territory and tracking the scent trails that wove through the willows. One particular individual he was keen on shadowing was the Ridge's current second-in-command, his Aunt Adele's counterpart, Uncle Nicolo.

The hunt for Piety had come to a moot point at long last. Given that a position of power had finally opened up to him, he was not going to exhaust his energy just looking for her. In fact, it made more sense for him to challenge up in rank; then, once given some degree of control of the pack, he figured he might order the rest of the family to look for her while he stayed at home. He would deal with that all later though - that is, if it was worth the effort at all anymore. Since his encounter with the suspicious man in the west, somewhere within Cedarwood Forest, he had almost come to think that maybe if she was meant to be with him, she would return. On another hand, there was also the idea that if he seized control of the pack, perhaps she would come crawling back. For who could deny the protection of a full-fledged king?

All Sköll had to do was prove himself worthy of such a title.

After sometime Nicoló's trail grew stronger and every so often, his path intertwined with that of Adele's. Apart from knowing that they were related to one another, Sköll knew absolutely nothing apart from the fact that his uncle was a self-proclaimed scholar and historian. Since his initiation into the pack, he had specifically come to be Willow Ridge's resident scholar and historian. This, the prince hoped, hinted at the man's ability with words. Words were something he definitely could do; and, if he could talk his way into his uncle's favor, he would do so at the figurative drop of a hat.

Somewhere ahead of him he thought he heard the willow branches shift and the younger Archer stopped in his tracks. His ears cupped forward and his tail drew up in an eager wag. There would be no need to draw his weapon - a figurative snickersnee fashioned from insults and slander - just yet; that would be for later if things didn't pan out as he would have hoped. For now, all he wanted was some quality time between uncle and nephew and to see for himself if Nicoló was truly the record-keeper he claimed he was.

"Uncle?" he tried at first, staring through the gathering dark and into the still-green underbrush between the trees. "Uncle Ni-coló? I'd... I'd like to speak with you..."

Sköll's shift in rank had been kept secret; no one had known what had happened for the prince to regain a place just above his yearling half-brother Greer. No longer did he sneak about on the ground like some angry viper just laying low in the grass; he was a wolf, his mother's son... a lupine prince who had every right to the land under the Queen's reign. His stance remained neutral, though a spark of determination blazed behind his colorless eyes. As those dark, pointy ears picked up on Nicolò's muffled bark - something of an assurance, no doubt, to his Aunt Adele. It had occurred to the young prince, some time after the duo had joined, that every time he stumbled upon their scents the other seemed to keep nearby; a part of him convinced that perhaps they shared as close of a bond as he had with Morganna. He steeled himself in the meantime, attempting to keep an open mind on what was about to unfold.

The slightly smaller Archer emerged and Sköll was quick to take note of how his superior held himself. It took every fiber of his whole being to not try and physically initiate a challenge. Even if he had come of age and was gifted with the larger build of his estranged father, Sköll's inexperience held him back. The only individual he knew how to fight, let alone intimidate, was Angier.

Nicolò's throat cleared and the prince gave a rather respectful nod as he averted his gaze, fully comprehending the man's question. It was heartening at the very least to hear that some individuals - apart from Morganna - still considered him as apart of the family after his little mishap with Piety. He could play "somewhat dumb" for now and prove that he was something of an eager subordinate; he wanted to test the waters first. Perhaps all it would take is a few choice words rather than an actual full-fledged, "no holds barred" brawl, like what had pretty much happened with the tawny Leader.

Sköll smiled as amiably as he could as his eyes flit to the historian's face. "I was wondering if I could have a word with you, " he requested. "You see, it has come to my attention that my step-father's begun to show some weakness and I am concerned for his hold on the Ridge." Idly, his tail waved behind him and his voice grew to harbor a hint of eagerness and prying curiosity. "I'm sure you know more than I do about such circumstances. I was wondering what you might suggest from your experiences in Torbine. I figured I would do him a favor and ask on his behalf... "

Wondering, wondering... Skoll grimaced to himself on the inside; hopefully it wasn't too uncharacteristic of him to ponder or even pry. It was no confidential matter about his uncle's background and it had been encouraged by @Elettra some months ago to seek out the Torbine historian for a lesson or two. Perhaps it was just a way for the Queen to push her reluctant son into some familial bonding, but the prince was definitely hellbent on making this so much more...

Nicolò cleared his throat and the younger Archer's ears returned forward to show that he was really paying attention to everything that was said. One corner of his white-furred mouth curled up in a half-smile to show that he understood what he meant to say about the order of their hierarchy. He even kept quiet long enough to let Nicolò speak up further with a question.

"I haven't," he admitted, almost without pause. "Not yet."

Here, he had a lightning-quick debate over whether or not he should act, to put on some sort of show to really get the historian's attention. He opted not to. Nicolò was family after all and, perhaps, much more important in Elettra's book than, say, Xetor was. "You'll be the first to know," he began. "But, he attacked me." This was only a part of the story but Skoll was all about trying to play his cards in a way that showcased him as a victim... for sympathy, something he could feed off of.

"I made the mistake of catching him alone and he outright lashed out. If it weren't for Morganna being there, after following my trail, I could have been dead. I need your help, Uncle--" He was trying to reinstate his plea, make it something of an utter, desperate need for guidance and support. "Surely, men who've let their reigns rot their crowns only lead a kingdom to ruin. It's obvious from this little... bit that something has to be done. I know his tactics now, lend me your position so that I may knock him down a peg. You know my mother wouldn't stand for that..."