The rain had begun hours ago. Was it just hours? It felt like days. It was hard to tell anymore. The chilly onslaught had soaked him to the bone – not a great fete with his poor condition. Bones jutted here and there, his already mangled ear was near on missing and his legs were littered with scars and patches of missing fur. They’d been brutal, sure, but nothing could ever compare to what his father used to do to him; if anything, they had tortured him with mercy.
The bitter cold of the water that fell from the sky felt good against his hot skin. No doubt a fever had set in, but with anything in his life, he pushed through it. Nightfall came earlier and earlier and whilst they were in the midst of fall, the tell-tale signs of winter were everywhere. The leaves had long ago begun to change colour from a rich emerald to a crisp cinnamon. The wind grew heavier, colder with each gust. All around, tiny animals gorged themselves on food ready to take them through their winter hibernation.
Had it been so long already? He was sure the weather had been warm when he and Valiant took his son, Adonis, on a trip to man him up. The sun had been pleasant upon his broad, dark shoulders. The grass had been lush, full of bounce as the trio had made their way to places away from those that they knew. Spring was turning into summer when he had left the confides of the mountain he had called home; now winter was fast approaching and the dark king was finally able to contemplate just how long he had been lost.

The rain did nothing to help the boggy ground beneath him. Each tender step the tall male made felt as if the earth may swallow him. The grass was an excellent mirage, covering the thick, oozing clay and silt below which did its very best to suck him under. Despite his waning strength, he pressed onwards. Determination the only thing he had left to pull strength from. Mentally he was an iron giant but physically he was but a shell of his former self. It was fortunate that the falling rain shattered the surface of the water which ran alongside him, for if he were to catch a glimpse of himself his blood might boil.
Anger had been his only companion these past few months; the only thing that had kept him going, that kept his mouth shut and his mind sharp. The endless darkness of the hole he had been kept within would have been maddening where it not for his dark thoughts. It was lucky that he was a sick, twisted, sadistic bastard – it had made the experience not exactly pleasant, but not soul shattering either. It was hard to shatter something which doesn’t exist.

Another icy droplet pelted him into his gunmetal eye. The cold sting caused him to wince and pause midstep. The rain wasn’t letting up. Clarity came with the burning sensation on the surface of his eye; he needed to seek shelter. Pressing onwards would only drain whatever strength he had left and he had a long way to go yet. Home was on the horizon, sure, but it was at least a week’s trek and that was if he did not rest along the way.
Home. He would laugh at the word were his voice up to working. A burning, dry feeling flooded his throat at the very thought of opening his lips to form words. He had been silent for so very long, saving whatever voice he had left for the silky ears of the rather heinous female he had seduced to mount his escape from the prison he had been locked within. She had appreciated the smooth, seductive tones of his southern drawl as he whispered promises of a better life into her tattered ears. Not yet even a full adult, he took advantage of her without guilt. Another pawn in this game he called life.
As he made his way towards a cluster of fallen branches, he thought of her with a sadistic smirk. No doubt she would still be sitting aside the lake where he had been discovered with Valiant and his son. Waiting for him to fetch her and bring her to his kingdom. He wished he could have seen her. Her ugly, marred face tormented when she finally accepted that he was not coming for her. That he had abandoned her to a fate worse than death. Her punishment would be long, what with being the eldest daughter to the alpha of the pack who had stolen him; long and painful he suspected, until she begged the old man for death… which would most likely be dragged out too.

Ducking his head, his dark form slipped beneath the mound of branches and took what little shelter he could find. Exhausted on the inside, but steely on the out, he lowered himself to curl into a ball. His nose tucking beneath the tatty fur of his tail, seeking out what little heat his own body and dirty fur could offer him. It was not long before he slumbered- an uneasy, wakeful sleep where dreams of his father lingered. He hoped the rain would stop soon.

His mind wandered, distorting reality and the dream world as he had an uneasy rest.Unable to relax he took whatever moments of sleep he could gather, but with the cold in the air, the gnawing in his gut and the pain that radiated throughout his body there was little peace to be found in slumber. At some point however he must have dozed off for he was unaware of the femme fatal who happened upon his scent. It was not until her voice, golden like rich honey, stroked his inner ear and gently roused him. It was like a soft whisper, a gentle alarm clock which roused his eyes to open.
At first he was unsure if it was a trick of his mind, his nightmare tormenting him from the inside out. He was far from home, but the scout had been known to travel long distances for the pack. Was there any real chance that it really was her all the way out here? Possibly. Was it worth wasting what little energy he had to be found? Possibly not.

Home was where he was headed, but not for the reason that most long lost loved ones returned. He was angry, bitter towards his former pack. Yet another gaggle of back stabbers who had left him to his fate There had been no rescue, no word from any of them but he was sure they would still be there. @Naira would not give up her kingdom again. He had damaged her so much so that she was almost his female image. Confident, strong and above all else, a selfish little witch. No, he was heading home for her and her alone... her and her downfall. Not for his children, @Datura perhaps was worth saving but the others... pointless balls of fur whom he had no interest in. Not to reclaim his throne - who wanted to live on a freezing cold mountain anyway. Not even for @Sagacity, the siren who stood not too far from him and caused a primal reaction from him. Just for her. To see her suffer and all those who loved her mourn her loss. Too many years had passed between them. What may have once been love was now hate, having crossed that thin line somewhere in the darkness of his prison. Her death was the only thing he had left to live for and it would no doubt be his final deed on this earth, the pack would not rest until their queen was avenged, but he would go down with a smile on his face knowing he had removed her and done the world a favour.


A rumble of thunder further wakened him from slumber. The voice sounded distant, but the heavy wind and rain would easily distort it and hide her location. With what energy he could muster he rose to shaky legs and slowly elevated his head to rise over the branches of the cover he had taken. There, in the distance he could make out a silver form. Hard to tell from so far away, the rain made it difficult to distinguish her but there was something in his gut that told him he was looking at her. At the female who had caught his breath, even if it was just for a moment. He had never given a thought to what might have happened after their physical encounter. He had no idea he had another son in the world, another life to fuck up.
Before he might have revealed himself. Trusting that she would help him, to be faithful. However it had been so long. Now he could see her he took in her scent, faint though it was. It reminded him of home. The fresh smell of untainted air, of salt from the many waterfalls that lined their walls. She was still of the mountain. The pack had survived without him. Unlike before he was in the weak position. No longer a king upon his thrown but a peasant in the gutter. Inwardly he felt ashamed of himself. The scar that marred his face, running from his nose to his eye made him feel ugly. The bones which lay visibly beneath his skin felt stiff and creaky, no longer did he feel a figure of strength and authority.
She could not see him like this. It was something he simply could not allow. Whether he might have felt another for her or not in that moment was irrelevant. He had to stay hidden. Naira could not know he was here. Sagacity would be bound by duty to report it. He could not trust her. He could not trust anyone anymore.

As quietly as he could, he lowered his head once more and pressed his belly to the ground, keeping himself low and hoping that the rain might be enough to distort his scent and lead her away from here.

She called him again. Her vocie the second time was not so unclear. He was completely convinced that it was Sagacity who stood across the way from him. He was tempted, so very tempted to reveal himself to her but the consiquences would most likely be dire. Could he really trust her? Their time together was brief but physical, perhaps even emotional having been so raw and animalistic; had it been enough to create an unbreakable bond between them? Sure, they'd created a child together but apparently that wasn't enough to stay loyal these days. Hell. He'd spent years of his life with Naira, fathered at least one litter with her, only to be betrayed by her. He had been forgotten. Why would Sagacity who was all but a blip in his timeline be anymore loyal then the queen of the mountain? It was too risky. Wasn't it?

On the other hand he could use her right now. For a meal, perhaps to fetch basic supplies to cover his limbs to ease the swelling in his poorly sealed wounds. Afterall, he was technically still a king as he had no knowledge of his replacement up on the mountain. But then, she would question what happened and most likely encourage him home and when he would decline she would become suspicious of his motives. Having spent much of his devious life avoiding lies and deceit (an inspiring quiality in any villian), would he be able to pull off spinning a tale to lead her away from his true intentions? Probably. He was formidable at everything after all; in his mind that is. Still, was the gamble worth it? The ache in his gut told him to go for it, whilst his overly cautious mind remained firmly stuck to the fence.


With a short intake of breath he lifted his head and sang upwards to the sky. He replied to her call. His location ringing clear and though the rain fell and soaked him to the bone, his voice was dry, hoarse but unmistakable as the God of the Mountain. I'm here... was all he said in his song. He could only hope that his gamble would pay off. That he could spin such a tale that she might believe his intentions to not return home were honourable... and not because he wanted to murder her Queen.

The rain continued a rhythmic beating upon the branches which surrounded him and pattered like tiny feet on the soggy fall leaves that littered the floor. Other then that he heard no sounds. He felt apprehensive for a moment. The sudden realisation of the choice he had made him him full pelt in the face, but what was done was done and he would have to deal with the consequences. At first he heard nothing in the form of a reply, no movement, no changing in smells. Still laying upon the floor he elevated his head just a little more to peer through the thicket where he lay hidden. It was only then his eye rested upon her grey figure, moving with purpose towards him. Slicing through the rain, boggy terrain as if it were nothing. The determination in her face was steely, she was a woman on a mission, it was a look he was well versed in, but to what end he could not yet know.

When she turned and ran he felt his gut sink. She had taken one look at him, her expression seemed horrified at his ugliness as opposed to the siren she had been before. A pang of misery hit him hard but he locked the feeling away. He had seen his face, how ugly he now looked. He had seen his tall thin frame lacking any substitue. He knew he was but a shell of himself but to have someone he knew react in such a fashion really was a kick in the balls. Though he was never outwardly so, he had always had a streak of vanity within him. He was afterall a clever lad, not gullible nor a liar (well, often) and knew from a young age that his good looks would come in handy. Now even they were gone. Along with his home, his female, his children, his friend. Leaving him with nothing but rage and resentment towards what was once his.
Not only had her expression whipped him, but she had turned and ran. Perhaps she was going to find others to retrieve him? Maybe she was unable to finish him herself. Perhaps she came with a party and soon he would be swamped with them all. Damnit. He knew this had been a bad idea.

As quickly as he could, though not as quickly as he'd like, he rose to shaky legs and began to back out from the thicket. He turned in the opposit direction to where she had bolted but she had been much faster then he. Having taken so long to rise to stand she had already returned. For a moment he felt his hackles bristle, ready to defend himself to his last breath but with the way he felt he knew it would not be a long battle. He would not go out in a blaze of glory like he had always thought he might. Yet then, he noted the small, battered creature which she placed before him. He didn't have a moment to process her gift before she was upon him. Her scent was as intoxicating as before. Such a simple gesture of kindness touched him deep inside... but it would not last. How could it? When she too had abandoned him to his fate. No one came for him. Not even his siren. "Are you alone?" he croaked, not returning the affection but instead standing still as if the icy rain and bitter cold winds had frozen him in place. Even the scent of the rabbit was not enough to move him. Not yet.