you do not know who is your friend or who is your enemy until the ICE breaks. Bitterness, desperation, and confusion marked Ice these days - restless anger coiled up in his soul as he stalked across their home. There was a dangerous sort of edge to him, a brooding darkness resting just behind the pale of his eyes, and it seemed that no amount of exercise could tire him out, nor could anything please him nor soothe the rugged rage. It smoldered in his soul, like embers glowing under the hot breath of a devil, threatening to burst into flames at any moment and scour the world clean; reduce all of this to nothing but a wasteland of ashes and despair, regret. Rhysis, the flood, and Naira's betrayal stung, preying on his normally jolly mind and inserting poison into his veins. Every breath felt foul and tainted, each faint scent of Naira - each reminder of her, little tufts of hair or bundles of herbs, just her scent rubbed into their land - caused a growl to rise in his throat, hackles on end as he viciously destroyed whatever pieces of herself she had left behind. That she had done this - that she had done this to Corinna - was beyond his understanding. He had believed in her, thought her honest, a worthy member of Swift River.
She had crushed that notion, with the same finality a beetle is crushed under a rock.
Whether she knew it or not, she'd caused a change. There seemed to be more tension. More anger. Likely because Ice supplied a fair share of it, but strangers seemed to harden something in the pack, like a cold creature gathering its limbs in and hugging itself. Ice's border patrols had taken on a frenzied edge, and his relentless pursuit of their integrity was overzealous. Every Zeitgeber a wolf normally followed was ignored, and as the lack of sleep too preyed on his sanity, Ice descended into a spiral of snappiness and boundless anger. He'd never felt like this before - never been like this before. Never wanted to be like this again, but no matter how far he ran or how long he stayed awake, tossing his head down on soft moss brought no rest. If he slept, it was in fits and starts, bad, haunted sleep. Naira was something of gray, something that challenged his world of black and white. He could not wrap his head around it, and it was driving him mad.
Bits and pieces of fur and forest flew as the large wolf hauled himself off onto another patrol, nose twitching and itching as he prowled forth. A wind slapped on his face, brushing soft hair and dark whiskers, teasing into his lungs and into his mind; it smelled of stranger, and it smelled strongly. Smothering the desire to growl he plunged through the undergrowth, discarding visual clues as he let his nose do the work. He caught onto her trail, smelled her straight across the border and black rage threatened to descend, but the trail led right out again, as if the wolf had been very tired and simply happened to stomp into their home. The mistake had been remedied, but... It did little good when it came to soothing his restless fury. It was simply looking for an outlet, but he had none, and fought to leash his flaring temper. Taking it out on a random loner wouldn't do anyone good, and so it was with moderately more control, the heat of his emotions reduced to cool ice, that he shoved his nose into the nest of roots and into the wolf. Startled, leaped back, landing in a fight-or-flight posture as he stared at the curled-up little wolf. Whatever he had been expecting, it wasn't to nearly step on her. .ice aesir |