Willow Ridge Imitosis

Since his mother's birthing, Asriel had chosen to stay close to the family's den where he could best keep an eye on things. Though he had been accepting of Angier before, simply because his mother had chosen him and anyone who earned his mother's respect and admiration therefore was a good wolf, he now considered Angier to actually be a part of the family. Not necessarily the Archer family- for that family belonged to Elettra, Asriel, Morganna and Skoll- but a part of a slightly different offshoot of the Archer family. The three children, of course, were Archers. Elettra was their mother, so therefore they were Archers. Angier being her mate didn't change that- and as of yet, Asriel did not entirely know or understand what Angier's role was in the pups' conception. The role of a father wasn't one that Asriel knew well. He'd never even had a male role model that he'd looked up to. He appreciated Angier, and he had appreciated Guiness; but he'd never formed any real attachment to them beyond knowing their use and feeling grateful toward them for it.

In the waning light of evening he returned to his position as a sentry outside the den where he knew his mother and the pups would be. He'd caught and eaten a fish and had patrolled the borders that afternoon, and was ready for a break. He reclined upon his haunches before he stretched his neck and lay down in a sphinx-like position not far from the den's mouth. Blinking his long eyelashes against the dying sunlight, he set his head upon his paws and exhaled a soft sigh. "Speech"

WILLOW Ridge

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Avatars by Allie <3

*hijacks* hope you like RE's :P Rowan bumps his head on a low branch!

The eventful birth of Elettra's litter had bestowed in Rowan a different sense of duty than the one he'd had. Before, he scouted the borders in preparation for the main event - and now he did so in its wake. As if he hadn't already known the cruelty of the wild. He felt unsettled, assuming each time he took a sniff of the air something dreadful would come his way. So far it hadn't. Any time he was tempted to relax about it, Rowan would recall with a shudder the terror that had built up in his throat, how cold fear felt as it pumped through his blood while he sprinted to the scene. They were not his family, perhaps, but they were his pack. How could he dare allow anything else to happen to them?

The sun came tilting in through the breaks in the branches, slanting down his rust-and-dust fur as he drew closer to the heart of their territory post-patrol. He looked upon the sunset sky, watching as the shadows streamed down the willows like a waterfall. Waterfall. The boy swallowed more guilt. Threat level red had taken his mind off his original intentions of returning to the Lore, but every once and again he could see the amber eyes of his sisters somewhere in the shadows. I have not forgotten you, Rowan wanted to tell them, but it felt untrue. He would not leave the Willows at this time, not for anything. Yes, he had to find them, he had to try, but not now. If any Attaya came close to the Drooping Willows, the boy would know. But until the pups were older...

Rowan paused. He was nearly to the main den, but he turned and looked over his shoulder any way as if he could see beyond their borders. If they were out there, and he was in here, he'd never forgive himself. And if he was anything but present here, and his pack was damaged by it - well, he'd never forgive himself either. A muted sigh escaped through his barely parted jaws, a prayer that he was not the last Attaya standing and that maybe some day this dichotomy would leave him alone for a change. Ready to continue on, Rowan swung his head back over his shoulder - and right into a willow branch. The resounding clunk pushed his ears back and he stumbled over his paws to get away from his attacker. What was more embarrassing than being too wrapped up in your angst to see your surroundings? The tall yearling looked around quickly, hoping nobody had seen.

As if it had never happened the Attaya boy strode forth, coming into view of the den and its current sentry. He found himself a cozy spot on the sidelines then. Elettra didn't ask any of them here yet, so it was best not to wander too close. Reclining, he let his hard-gold gaze flicker briefly toward the Archer son. A greeting was stuck between his teeth, but he didn't open his mouth just yet for fear that a groan might wander out instead. Oof, he had really smacked his head.

There is a rabbit's nest nearby. +1 Health

Sure enough, Asriel heard the sound that marked the other yearling's proper smack on the noggin. He'd lifted his head off his paws when he heard it, and swiveled his ears around, barely able to catch the sound of scratching footsteps. Whatever it was that had happened, it had involved some creature and something that sounded like wood. To Asriel, it sounded like wood on wood- and he gauged that perhaps a tree branch had fallen on a rootand had startled someone, someone he was able to identify by their scent as the male he'd only first really met on the day his siblings had been born. Another yearling, who looked like he could have easily belonged to the Archer family, the one who'd pulled the cougar from Guiness' torn body. He'd ruffled Asriel's proverbial feathers by doing so, at first, until he'd realized exactly what the other youth was doing. He'd also been one of the two males selected to bury Guiness' body. Asriel had inspected the gravesite once they'd returned to the packlands, and had approved. Without knowing he'd done so, Rowan had earned himself a place in Asriel's fairly limited good book. Only on the introduction page, where names were hastily scribbled until he could really make up his mind, but it was a good thing nonetheless.

The youth came forward and kept his distance, so Asriel felt less inclined to do so much as bristle. He took his place and Asriel watched him for a moment. He was large in stature as well, a fair amount taller than Asriel, but he looked like he had less weight on him to throw around than Asriel did. Asriel was more boxy and filled out, whereas this wolf looked like he would be much quicker, despite his size. His body spoke of good breeding, and Asriel approved. His eyes were the colour of old gold, of a sun which had lost some of its vigour. His nose twitched at the scent of a rabbit nearby, but his attention remained on the boy.

"I saw the grave you dug," He said softly, as this event still featured at the forefront of his mind. "Thank you for taking care of Guiness' body." The tone of his voice was sincere. He was learning- he had to appease the others in the pack, make them like him by being genuine and not allowing his pride to make him arrogant. "I'm Asriel."

WILLOW Ridge

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Maintaining a steely expression the Attaya nursed his wound by ignoring it and hoping it would go away. The throbbing would stop eventually, and none would be the wiser, so long as he didn't draw any attention to it. But Asriel looked back at him, his gaze held long. What he was actually doing was studying Rowan, but Rowan simply assumed it meant Asriel knew about his little branch-blunder. Averting his eyes briefly, he lifted one dark-socked foreleg to "itch his head", employing whatever knowledge of Gate Control theory that wolves had to casually rub the offended area to prevent further pain. As he turned his head he noted the scent of hare's den somewhere close - but for the moment he would ignore it. If his welcome was overstayed, perhaps he would seek out some bunnies of forgiveness. He returned his leg to the ground, wondering what now to invest his attention in, when the Archer's voice fell upon the still air. Rowan turned his head back toward him.

"Of course," he uttered, accepting the prince's gratitude with duty. You're welcome felt a little too emotionally charged for this sort of thing, and Rowan still hadn't sorted his issues to be playing with that fire. Instead he managed a smile, or at least his version of one, where the corners of his lips pulled back into some semblance of a curve but the light in his eyes remained hushed. After its brief moment in the limelight his expression fell once more for him to return the sincerity. "I'm sorry for your loss."

Asriel. It sounded like the name of a king. He had the look of prospect, too, with his figure tall and abundant with muscle. The gold cloak was literally woven into his coat of fur. He could easily watch over a kingdom with eyes like fire... He'd seen a gaze like that before, and it had belonged to Ava, and she was a great Leader. That, of course, was something Rowan would never ever admit to the Archer boy. Hey bro, you have eyes like my mom. He hadn't been so lucky as his sisters to inherit her stare, nor his father's eyes neither. His was some bastardization between the two, nothing special. "Rowan Attaya," he returned, able to keep his low self-opinion from latching on to his name. He was no Asriel, but perhaps he'd be something, some day.

His eyes wandered toward the den's mouth, subconsciously reducing the volume of his voice. "All brothers, huh?" He asked. Rowan really wanted asked him if he was excited to be an older brother. He would have been. Rowan would be no brother to these newborn wolves, but perhaps he could be their friend. He'd like that.

He liked the humble and polite way Rowan responded to Asriel's gratitude. He was tactful, and it was much appreciated, given the reason he'd been thanked. Where had this boy come from? This young man who looked like nobility, and seemed to know how to act like it too. Asriel wasn't threatened- if anything, he felt like he was in good company, joined by a wolf who shared his ideals about behavior and poise. To Rowan, graciousness seemed to come more naturally than it did to Asriel, who was only now discovering how he would need to act if he wanted to gain trust and respect- and that he couldn't simply act, he had to be. He had to be genuine, real. Not sneaky and secretive, like Skoll. He nodded quietly in response to the sympathy Rowan showed. "He was a loyal guardian of the pack, and especially my mother. He will be missed," Asriel said quietly. Guiness had, after all, given his life to protect both the alpha and her three newborn pups- a nobler act surely couldn't be possible.

Attaya. The name rang a bit of a bell- but he might have only heard it in passing. He nodded then in greeting. The boy's [light- a sore head- was still unnoticed. Though he did look a bit surprised, it wasn't anything that Asriel saw as being out of the ordinary. He smiled slightly when the pups were brought up, and he tilted his head back a bit. "Three brothers," He confirmed. "Four if you count my littermate, Skoll. My poor sister, Morganna, is surrounded." He said with a fond laugh. Neither he nor Skoll had terrorized her, particularly, though. They'd been brought up by a single woman- and a powerful one at that- so they both knew well enough that women were to be respected. Well, Asriel did, anyway. "Deacon, Castiel and Greer," He said, listing off the names of his new brothers. "Do you have any siblings?" He asked then, curious to see if this Attaya boy had also grown up in a large family.

WILLOW Ridge

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His heart felt heavy at Asriel's clarification. The Guardian must have seemed like family, then, having been around for so long. And to meet such a horrific, heroic end... At the very least he was thankful the youngest of the pack would have no recollection of the blood and gore that was the truth, but could always cherish the beautiful part of his sacrifice instead. "He's here in spirit," Rowan said, the solemness of his voice hopefully covering up the cheesiness of his sentiment. It was a thought that had comforted him regarding his family - whenever he wasn't being too stubbornly angsty, that was. Perhaps it would be provide some ease of mind to the Ridge wolves who'd known Guiness long before him, that the Red Knight would always look after the wolves within the willows.

Rowan too found Asriel's company a welcome change to his solitude. Though he believed the Archer boy, like many unlike himself, belonged to a better tier of wolves (the kinds that didn't let themselves get separated from their beloved family in times of crisis) he did not come across arrogant. He was sharp, and amiable to the right degree. Rowan was often off-put by overbearing friendliness, having not explored his capacity to reciprocate. But their conversation was comfortable, enjoyable even. Though Rowan was the outsider, he didn't feel much like one, and it was a pleasant surprise.

In that way his guard lowered, even allowing himself to bare a modest grin as Asriel explained his sister Morganna's plight. "Well, she hasn't taken off yet. She must like her brothers - all five of 'em." Rowan had spoken to neither Skoll nor Morganna, but had seen them both at their mother's side after her eventful birth, and thus could only maintain his judgement that he rather liked the Archer family as a whole. The feeling he was certain to would spill easily upon Deacon, Castiel and Greer. When they were ready to meet the pack, Rowan would happily be in line.

Having already been thinking about siblings and family, it didn't pain him so much to hear Asriel pose him a similar question. His grin quieted into a nostalgic smile, only a fraction as sad as it usually was. "Yes. None older or younger, just my litter-mates. I only had one brother, Mace. But two sisters as well, Quil and Cinder." When he was young he had never believed his sisters any less capable than him - perhaps he had even thought they were more. Cinder had always sought adventure even further than her puppy-blue eyes could see and Quil had possessed a worldliness and intelligence that Rowan simply did not. Mace was, of course, untouchable Mace. If anyone had lived, it would have been him. And while he was on that thought - "But they don't live here," he added slowly, hoping to avoid the question as to where they were. However desperately he craved such an answer, Rowan didn't have it.

Asriel wasn't so sure what to think when Rowan made a comment about Guiness' spirit. He nodded, though, knowing that he shouldn't say anything otherwise, but he wasn't entirely sure he believed that spirits lingered. He had to suppress a shudder- he could only hope that spirits didn't linger, otherwise the spirit of Malia would likely haunt him for the rest of his days- and the memory of her death was already a never-ending haunt. Fortunately, Rowan didn't offer any other comments about Guiness or spirits or the like, so he considered it a closed conversation topic. He didn't want to talk or think about dead wolves anymore; his dreams were already consumed with the troubles of mortality as it was. He smiled slightly at the comment about Morganna. He nodded and tipped his head to the side. He was right- Morganna was surrounded by boys, but both he and Skoll had been her guardians as they'd grown up. Skoll had his mean streak and sometimes he irked their sister, but Asriel believed that she knew that at the end of the day, even Skoll would have done anything to protect her. "Not yet. But once these three are running and teething..." He said, trailing off with a soft laugh. It would be a different experience, being a yearling with pups around, rather than simply being a pup with other pups. They were meant to take care of the three boys, to raise and guard them, and to tolerate their silliness. But Asriel had every ounce of faith in his mother's parenting abilities; she'd kept the three of them in line, so he knew she would continue to do so with these three. As soon as Rowan said the name Mace, Asriel's gaze focused and the relaxed smile left his lips. He'd met Mace once- a proud, haughty creature who'd wanted to go hunting too close to the Willow Ridge packlands for his comfort- but the tension left as soon as Rowan mentioned two other names. Quil and Cinder. His eyes softened, and he found himself donning a much more pleasantly surprised expression. "I knew I recognized your last name." He said, reflecting back upon the time he'd met Cinder and Quil- and Malia and Yuka as well. "I knew Quil, and Cinder. I only met them once-" He stopped. They didn't live here anymore. Now he understand the regret he'd caught in Rowan's eyes when he'd first asked him about siblings. "They're gone?" He asked quietly, not entirely sure he wanted to know exactly what had happened to them. He'd only met them briefly- but Quil had left quite an impression.

table by bryony

Rowan pulled his lips tight and gave a warm shrug of his shoulders, agreeing with the Archer yearling. He was pretty sure he had been annoying at times when he was a child. In fact, if he recalled correctly, there was one time when him and Mace had accidentally started using a bad word loudly and proudly because their language capacities hadn't caught up to their blabbering abilities. Oops. Of course, perspectives were different then. They hadn't known they were cussing all over at the age of 4 months. It wasn't on purpose. That was a consolation, if anything, for whether or not Morganna found her three newest brothers a blessing or a curse.

The Attaya boy had been entirely comfortable in Asriel's presence, so much so that it was a shock no kinder than being pushed into an ice-cold stream when the other youth revealed that he knew Rowan's beloved siblings. His mouth went dry and a sour feeling crept into his lurching stomach. They had been here.... no. They could still be here! He swallowed the sickness in his throat, knowing later he would berate himself for coming to believe they were really gone. Right now he needed to bring more light to this revelation. If it were really true... if they were really here...

He cleared his throat, trying to remain stoic despite the quickness of his heart. "We were born to a pack on the Eastern side of the Serpent's Pass but- we were separated from our parents and each other when we were little." Rowan left the gritty details out for now. His voice was already wobbly, something he loathed to hear with his own ears, and he didn't need to provoke any pity by telling him his sorry ass drowned and Cinder and Quil's didn't. "S- so, they were here? Are here? On this side of the mountain?" His own questions made it clear he could not answer Asriel's as definitively as he thought.

He let his tarnished gold gaze linger about the rocky den, afraid that if he met Asriel's gaze the other might see the turmoil and loathing that he held for himself. He liked it in Willow Ridge. When the pups were older and needed less oversight he had thought maybe to wander the neighboring territories and see if anyone knew what had become of the Attayas. Never did he expect to hear this now.