Traitors Tor Daddy Issues - Printable Version

After so many months her father had finally returned and she was still reeling from running into him in Kingswood. She didn't know what it meant or what would happen all she knew was she needed to get away from that place. She needed time to think and sort through her thoughts. Figure out how she was going to deal with having him in her life, that was if we stayed. With every moment she expect him to disappear again after what her mother had told yet she hadn't expected to ever see him again.

The pup sighed as she crossed the border and into Kingsfall. Through the trees her paws carried her to the point where they ended and the tundra started. She'd been here many times and as usual she didn't stop, instead she broke into a run across the open Tundra. Oksana no longer feared getting lost having learned to find yet way back easily.

When she was panting she finally showed her pace to a walk before she eventually sat back on her haunches to catch her breath. That was when she noticed how far she'd come, in the distance she could see another forest just beginning but more than that were some rock formations not far from where she'd stopped to rest.

They were leaving. There was nothing left for him and his widowed mother in the north anymore. There would be no watching the tundra from the monadnock, no more accidentally bumping into Bug or any of the other children of the north. They would head south, toward a familiar face. Skirting the mountain, submersed in trees. Cyril had (nonverbally) asked for a little time alone before they departed. To visit old haunts. Sulk. Look for Everly. He didn’t know. He just needed space. Air. To clear his head and get rid of his jumbled thoughts.

But it wasn’t working.

Blood still clung to his dark pelt, the copper stench filling his nose. His stomach flipped, the taste of bile filling his mouth, but nothing came. The gangly male sauntered through the tundra, his yellow eyes fixated on the snow-dusted ground. He was not paying attention to where he was going, nor did he care. Piety would come find him when she was ready to leave. Or he would find her, further south by the fjord and the timbers. Where they would begin their journey.

Oksana didn't know what to do about her father, she loved him and missed him but he had gone away when she had really needed him. She wanted him in her life like he had been before he had gone away the first time. How could he be if she didn't know for sure if he was even going to stick around? He'd left twice before so would it really be fair if all she did was wait for the day when he would go away again? The pup shook her head while she rested. She just didn't know what she should do.

If it were up to Inna the pup had to wonder if she would ever see her father again. Her mother had been so angry at Lorc but Oksana felt it was more than that. She looked up at the big rock formation that she'd come across giving a few moments thought to how it might have gotten there like that. The sound of crunching snow tore the pups orange gaze from the rocks to the black figure of a pup. It only took her a moment to realize who it was, it had been awhile since she'd seen him. Confusion crossed her features when she noticed that something was off about him.

Making her way over to him she could see that his fur looked strange and there was a smell like blood coming off him. “Cyril, are you hurt?” She asked worriedly. If he was she could take him back to Lachesis, she was sure he would help the Whitestone wolf. “It's me Sana,” she added softly.

It felt like he was sleeping. Oh, how he wished he was. That all of this was some terrible nightmare and that, eventually, he would wake up. His eyelids felt heavy, along with shoulders. Part of him wanted to flee the territory, just as Everly had, his paws ripping across the snow-clad ground. But he knew he couldn’t leave his mother—not after they had watched Wraith be impaled by some rogue stag. She was all he had left, and he was all she had. Leaving without her was not an option.

His ears twitched at the voice but he didn’t look up. Even through the overwhelming stench of blood Cyril knew who it was before she offered her name, the voice accompanying it painfully soft. Sympathetic. But he didn’t want sympathy. He didn’t want to see anyone—only Wraith. But that wasn’t going to happen. The Dark Knight would only exist in his dreams—or his nightmares. Whichever came first.

He shrugged at the ebony girl, his yellow gaze not meeting hers as he kicked at the snow, his tail lashing out behind him. His voice was lost and he was in no hurry to find it.

All thoughts of her father and the troubles she was having with that were put to the side. It was more than clear something wasn't right with the Monadnock pup and she was worried he was hurt. Moving closer to him she could see his fur was matted and the blood stench was clearly coming from him. He didn't answer her question aloud, just gave her a shrug. Something had clearly happened and it was something that had upset him deeply. He hadn't even met her gaze since she'd found him wandering alone in the Lowlands.

“I can tell somethings happened and it's okay if you don't want to talk about it.” If he just needed a friend to sit with him she would do that. They weren't exactly the best of friends but they weren't complete strangers either. “It might help to talk about it though,” she added, “It did for me when bad stuff happened to me and I will listen if you do want to.”

She reached out and brushed her muzzle against his hoping that it might help him in some way. She hoped he would talk about it so he could feel better but Oksana wasn't going to try and make him.

He didn’t want to talk! He didn’t want to do anything. The boy couldn't even cry anymore. All he wanted was to be left alone until they left for the south. Which would be whenever Cyril could put on his big boy paws and get his shit together. Or until Piety summoned him—whichever came first. His throat grew tight as the girl approached, her words reaching out to him. He dismissed them with a flick of his tail, a grimace appearing on his dark maw. Talk through it? He snorted at the suggestion, his forehead wrinkling. Talking wouldn’t help. It wouldn’t bring his dead father back, restore his family, bring the pack back together. It wouldn’t do anything but make him more upset and make it more real. Cyril recoiled as the girl brushed her maw against his, a loud growl bubbling up from deep inside his chest. A sound he wasn’t even aware he could make until now. No, he screamed inside his head, his upper lip curling away from his ivory teeth, no talking! He stepped away from her, his thin legs struggling to keep his gangly body afloat.

She was worried for Cyril, he wasn't acting at all like she knew him to be and that was especially evident when she tried to comfort him with a brush of his muzzle. His behavior took her back a little since it was the first time anyone had ever been out right aggressive to her. She recovered quickly though. “I'm sorry Cyril, I'm worried about you.” She wasn't going to let his sudden aggressive act push her away. She understood not wanting to talk or wanting to get alone or just wanting to run away from everything. The truth was she didn't know what he wanted so she was trying to figure it out so she could help him.

“There is a quiet place over here. We can go sit quietly there for a little while and maybe get you cleaned up a little? Would that be okay?”

She kept talking—the noise made his ears hurt. No! He wanted to scream, the fur on the back of his neck continuing to bristle, his yellow eyes narrowed into slits. Worried—this wolf he’d only met once before was worried. A metallic taste filled his mouth, his nostrils flaring. Why wouldn’t she just leave him alone? Was it not obvious that he wanted nothing to do with her—that he didn’t want to talk?! Another growl rumbled inside his chest at the suggestion of going somewhere quiet. Clean him up? He snorted at the comment. The blood that stained his espresso fur was the only thing that he had left of his father. The only thing that still smelt like him. Just as he was about to reveal his teeth once more a flash of white appeared between them. Mother. His body did not relax at her arrival, his yellow eyes still fixated on the obsidian river girl. Instead a growl hummed in his throat, daring to spill from his tongue. There would be no talking—not today, not ever.