Drooping Willows burdened with glorious purpose

The two-day journey home had been one hell of a walk. The places where Mapplethorpe, the sorry excuse of a magnate, had bitten him had clotted and scabbed over; and, by the time he had found the familiar stretch of land that laid just beyond his mother's and Angier's markers, he swayed slightly as he came to a stop. His pale gray eyes seemed distant as he blinked, his jaw clenching after he had run his tongue down the side of his blood-covered maw. The red that had once been there had turned to brown, but the metallic tang still lingered on his tongue. Getting a whiff of the familiar scent of home, his head tilted back as his eyes rolled back in his head as he closed his eyes.

A slow exhale and he righted himself. He felt dizzy and he supposed the relief he felt was to blame. "You kill me, you kill yourself," Mapplethorpe's words had echoed in his ears, the ghostly whisper leaving with a gentle blowing of the evening breeze. Sköll swallowed the saliva that was pooling over his tongue. His eyes glossed over and he felt... nothing.

The silence pressed against his eardrums and he supposed now was a good time to call. He strode along the invisible markers, his lips lifting to expose the tips of his eye teeth. I have done Relic Lore a good service, he reminded himself, squaring his shoulders and puffing out his chest. @Elettra would be proud. He was, oh, so sure of it.

Breathing through both his nose and mouth he waved his tail before taking in a lungful of air and releasing it into a siren-like song, its pitch climbing up into an eerie soprano before sliding down to a deep tenor. The Prince of Willow Ridge had returned home... with pressing news to relay to his Leaders. Pantings a number of times, he brought his muzzle back down, allowing his tall, triangular ears to resume their skyward angle atop his head. He wanted to look as presentable as possible with his posture held at a decent height (neither imposing nor wholly suggestive of his willingness to be compliant), his tail held out with a neutral curve, and his head and neck held up so all or any who dared to greet him could see the wounds he had obtained and the old blood, another's misfortune, that coated his snout and throat.

i'm a dreamer, i'm a man

i'm doing whatever i can to make the bad things go away

The green months had brought with them more tragedy than leaves for the wolves of Willow Ridge. At this point the metallic scent of blood was more nauseating than it was enticing, or so the Attaya boy thought. His hackles raised to catch the smell again during his patrol of the border, and yet there was something unnerving and different about it... it was old blood. Something Rowan had encountered in conjunction with the smell of decay, and death.

For a moment he hesitated, divided on where he ought to head - toward that scent, or toward the den? Then came a call in the voice of a Prince, of Sköll, and the yearling took off right away. No amount of scents heavy in the air prepared him for what he found. His steps slowed from a pointed lope to an uneasy walk as he approached. The wrinkles in Rowan's expression wrote his confusion muzzle-bloodied Sköll came into full view, standing at the source of his sound. Usually he would not be struck strange by someone waiting to be received, but something sinister was lurking in the air.

The Attaya's black jaws remained shut, finding the context of this situation too confusing to ask about. Rather his dull gold eyes simply swept over the Archer boy, falling quite quietly on Sköll's ghostly pale gaze, where they rested to await an explanation for the questions he could not compose.

Ahh, of course, they'd send the rabble... or, perhaps, the younger members of the pack - in this case, that Attaya boy - were just a bit quicker than both Elettra and Angier. As much as Sköll wanted to believe the former, to have that chance to rub his unspoken accomplishment Rowan's black-masked face, he held his tongue. One of his ears twitched but the simple wave in his tail did not convey the pleasure that came with meeting a member of his pack. A few clicks of his tongue was the only sound the young royal made in the seconds the passed since they first laid eyes on each other, but once it seemed that Rowan would not even dare to question what it was that the Archer had been through, Sköll's lips parted.

"I wasn't expecting you," he said, the tone of his words slick on his tongue. "Is my mother around? I'd very much like to speak to her-" something about Sköll's face hinted at his indifference toward Rowan, whether it was his slightly narrowed eyes or the rather nonchalant quirk of his brow before he turned away, surely, it might have accidentally given the other yearling a taste of what was. "-privately, if at all possible."

Another sense of accomplishment blossomed in his chest, warming his chilled core; obviously, the fallen monarch he had just disposed of, had been wrong. Everything about Sköll - his innate sense of morality, the inner workings of his mind, the psyche he had developed and nurtured since his cub days - had survived. The shock, on one hand, was probably the one singular factor that was throwing him off, making him seem... off. His next sentence slithered out from between his lips, his tone much too cold for the 'scout-in-training' whose mission was to retrieve the boy, "Any word of Deacon?"

i'm a dreamer, i'm a man

i'm doing whatever i can to make the bad things go away

Deacon had been fairly tied down to the den. Usually no one had to keep him in there. The Willow Ridge prince had found himself usually curled up in a corner passed out to regain his strength if he wasn't in there feeding on whatever was given. Though today something was different. When the familiar call of his - new favorite - brother broke out Deacon was quick to sneak from the den to great him.

The closer he got the weirder the smell on his brother got. It was kind of gross but he didn't matter. Deacon just wanted to see his brother Skull. When Skull and one of the other Willow Ridge members, he wasn't too familiar with, Deacon broke out into a full blow run. Stopping right at his brother's paws Deacon grinned wide. Jumping just a tad he licked his chin. Deacon had gotten a lick of the weird smelling stuff on his tongue. Wrinkling his face for a moment he went right back to admiring his brother Skull. "Skull! I miss you." Nuzzling his face into his brother's leg Deacon didn't plan on moving anytime soon. Someone would literately have to drag the prince from his older brother. Taking in his brother's scent he tried not to pull away from that gross smell on his brother's pelt. For the moment the Archer Lyall was content with everything. Skull was back home and so was Deacon himself. Everything seemed normal to the prince.

the princes of willow ridge

Deacon & Greer & Castiel

have you checked out my player preferences?

A frown tugged the corners of his lips downward. Rowan was not surpassed to hear Sköll's dismissal; whatever the situation was, a bloodied son seeking his mother wasn't weird. Yet the Attaya boy couldn't help but feel a thread of distaste woven into the words that slipped from between his bloodstained teeth. He hadn't been aware of the Archer's indifference toward him. Rowan had been getting along rather well in general, so the notion had been lost on him. Perhaps it was just a fluke on Sköll's part that his voice seemed somewhat flat. After all, he'd certainly been through some sort of... ordeal. And the dust-coated male could understand the need for privacy. That was probably all it was. Rowan chose to believe this and gave a gallant shrug, responding as a means to diffuse, "Yes, I'm sure she's on her way."

But any notion he had to walk away and allow the Archer his requested privacy disappeared when the other posed a question that made his blood run cold for a swift moment. Any word of Deacon. If he did not know about the whereabouts of his brother, then why did he come wearing the blood of another? Rowan grit his teeth and forced the thought out of his head, imagining a situation where Morganna and Sköll encountered Deacon's captor and Sköll held him off while his sister returned the pup home - but if that was so, would the pack not have been told? It had disappeared in an instant but come back just as quickly, that feeling that something was somewhat off here.

Rowan tried not to let his discomfort let on. He forced a half smile and even a wave of his tail and said with a happy relief, "Deacon is home and well." He did not allow his golden gaze to wander from the tall-standing Prince. Rowan was now absolute in his resolution to watch over him, at the very least until Elettra or Angier arrived. Then he might give them their peace - but only then.

Ever the rascal, Deacon appeared as though his very name had drawn him forward. Before Rowan could intercept the young Archer-Lyall made an immediate bee-line for Sköll, setting Rowan's muscles on fire to respond. He forced his legs to turn to concrete. No way was he going to jump forward and separate brother from brother. It wasn't... it wasn't his place. Hiding a grimace Rowan watched the little pup lick at the blood stains, his excitement permeating the tense air. Still refusing to let his gaze wander the Attaya murmured, "That's proof."

Brothers and Sisters

Morganna Archer

are as close as hands and feet

Since returning with Deacon in tow Morganna managed to keep her itching feet fairly close to home. Often stopping by the den to make sure this years litter had not strayed too far she never bothered to stay for long, her desire to bond with the latest brood of half siblings minimal. After all, she had so desperately wanted a little sister and the fact she had been cursed with nothing but brothers had to be her step-fathers fault.

Busying herself otherwise with ensuring the packs medical caches were well filled had also kept her feet busy and distracted her from the absence of her true brothers. It was on such an errand that she finally heard the call her ears had been straining for without her even realising it. Reefing her head from a small patch of well harvested hellebore, she left the plants where they lay and raced in the direction of her brothers voice. She was beaten there of course, having come from near the medical den by a wolf she knew by scent alone and the cause of her siblings absence himself.

Her tail inched higher seeing the small pup sitting so close. A low growl and a snap of her teeth over his head should be enough to remind him that he shouldn’t be so far from the den, and with little more thought than that she stepped closer, brining her muzzle up to bump her brothers chin. She breathed in the familiar scent that he carried on his coat, it was enough to make the hair along her spine stand up in spikes but she addressed him with a proud smile. “Brother.” she all but purred. “I’ve missed you!”

template base by GREY | image by KYDNT

"Yes, I'm sure she's on her way." Somehow those seven simple words were not enough and already the impatience was sinking its own fangs into him. Sköll's posture did little more than slightly shift as he moved his weight from his left to his right. Though, when Rowan stated that Deacon was home and well, the prince's brows lifted, clearly unimpressed. Morganna must have bested him in the hunt; it added a bitter taste on top of the already foul sort of flavor he had in his mouth. He was about to continue their conversation, to verbally tease and test the Attaya in attempt to have him back away and make himself scarce while he waited for his mother's arrival, when he heard the footfalls that could only belong to his 'baby' brothers.

Lo and behold, there he was... the missing Lyall prince recovered - in one piece, too, surprise, surprise...

He briefly frowned as Deacon, already capable of reaching the upper part of his forearms on taller limbs and heavier than he had last seen the boy, nuzzled him. Inside he was cringing, sorely wishing that Deacon would just get off him and go away. Their meeting could have come at a later date; all he had wanted in this very moment was to see the Lady Elettra and personally tell her what he had seen, what he had heard... what he had done...

Rowan, it seemed, had the gall to state the obvious with a smart "That's proof." though Sköll paid little mind to it. With a growl that balanced along the fine line between vexation and heartfelt relief to see his younger sibling, he let the vibration in his chest radiate from him and over the lanky cub beside him. Then, with a slow dip of his muzzle, he touched the front of his nose and lips to Deacon's crown in a sort of 'endearing' kiss. This, no matter what the Attaya would make of it, was for show, an outward display of affection that proved that the Archer did seem to care for his younger half-siblings.

Pulling away from Deacon, his ghost gray eyes flickered to the other yearling but before he could even utter a single word, his age-mate and only sister appeared. While he was glad to see her, he made no sign as to show her how glad he was to have her near. His eyes remained on Rowan, even as Morganna touched her muzzle to his dirtied chin. "Leave us," he ordered tersely, the timbre of his voice now unmistakably demanding, "and, bring Lady Elettra to me. Now."

i'm a dreamer, i'm a man

i'm doing whatever i can to make the bad things go away

Couldn't resist. scattered, mixed up rambly bambly posty wosty stuff.

Sorya had been making her rounds when several familiar scents seemed to collide. One of them shouldn't be close to the borders. DEACON. He had taken to wandering away again and so she would break into a steady run to get to the scene only to find Morganna, Sköll, a wolf she did not know the name of, and Deacon all gathered. Sköll had blood stained across his muzzle and she couldn't help but give a small smirk. What had the prince of the Ridge done this time? That was a story she had to stick around to hear. She turned to Deacon and looked at him. "Deacon Archer Lyall. Does your mother know you are here?" She questioned him in a commanding tone. She wasn't having him disappear again and while he was with his older siblings, she still was paranoid about it after his first disappearance.

Sköll said something about needing to see his mother and she turned to him in interest. "A tale I'd be most eager to hear myself if you would not mind me hearing it as well, Prince Sköll." She rarely used titles like that but it was just so interesting and she wanted to know who the blood belonged to and what the prince had done to the wolf. Sorya had a sneaking suspicion that the blood was that of an enemy. Perhaps the kidnapper or someone close to it? Perhaps it was just a long time enemy of the Ridge that the boy had run into. Sorya kept an amused look on her face as she denied the pride to show through. She was going to wait for her sister to see if his mother felt the same way.

She arrives late yet makes it none the less, eager to see her son after the time he had been away from her. Yet still Adelaide, Lunas and Asriel were no where to be found, but knowing that her slender look-a-like had finally returned to her was enough to break her from her routine and bound into his direction upon long limbs and swaying hips.

Now that Skoll felt he was no longer 'trapped' under Asriel's shadow and dominance, Skoll was free to move forward as he pleased. Hearing the demand snapped from his jaws towards Rowan, she was left to wonder if Rowan would assess himself dominant over the Archer son or simply back down from not only him, but the rest of the Archers that stood guard. After awaiting a few moments in the background of the gathering to watch, Elettra then joins. Her throat clears a moment as she sounds her arrival, stepping out from the cover of one of the various willows of their land and towards them. Her eyes are hard upon Skoll for a moment, having heard his words. When she moves, she comes close to Rowan's side and even goes as far as to touch delicately at his jawline in greeting. Once more, her eyes turn to Skoll, in hopes that her gesture towards the other would be enough to show him that she favored this youth. Rowan's father was a good man, a man which she favored over most she had met within Relic Lore and as of yet Rowan seemed to hold the same qualities of his father before him. Elettra understood hierarchy, but wished not for the youth to find any reason to stray from the pack just yet.

"Rowan..." She speaks his name delicately, as she remains as his side. "Would you please escort Deacon back to the den and make sure he does not run off yet again?" Her eyes are hard on her young son as she says this, despite the excitement he had for being able to see Skoll once more. Sure that whatever Skoll had to say would not be 'suitable' for a pup and to ease the tension in the air, Elettra would ensure she dealt with both the problems with a simple request. Now she finds herself moving closer, along her only daughter to brush her muzzle through the dirtied hairs of Skoll's name. She breathed in deep and, surprisingly, the smell was of faint memory to her, yet far too faint to pick up. She takes a few steps back then, content now to sit at her young sister's side as bright, pale eyes seek her son for answers.

Sköll's attitude darkened considerably as Rowan made himself difficult. In spite of this the yearling's affection for Deacon softened the Attaya's stance ever slightly, though it left his lips pursed with a strengthened curiosity for what events transpired. Perhaps whatever Sköll had done had been in service of his family that he did seem close with. As if to prove his point Morganna appeared, making a bee-line for her blood relatives and leaving Rowan standing the odd man out.

Just as he was beginning to understand (or he thought he was) clipped words cut through the cool summer air. Leave us and bring Lady Elettra to me, now. The order set the fur along his spine to rise, something which Rowan fought once he was consciously aware of it. His duty to Willow Ridge extended to each and every one of his pack-mates. If asked to retrieve another, Rowan thought he would have done it in a heartbeat. And yet the words bestowed upon him came decorated in needles that pierced his skin and left his desire to be helpful rather flat. It was instinct to provide, but a gut feeling that kept him in his place with his eyes narrowed. Rowan wondered if it was because he did not trust Sköll at all.

With quiet resolve he hardened his gaze, nose lifting only slightly in the air as he replied, "I'm sure she's on her way." Defiance. He had never done such a thing before, but even as his heart beat quickly Rowan did not second guess his decision. He did not let his tarnished gold gaze wander from the Archer yearling, not even as Elettra's sister - Sorya - appeared to scold Deacon. Thankfully he did not have time to stew in the consequences of his choice. A regal scent was on the air and in moments Elettra joined their gathering.

He leaned away, expecting his dismissal might become final. Instead, Elettra made her way to his side and reached toward his muzzle to greet him. At once his ears folded against his skull, moving his nose to press the underside of his Queen's chin in submission. Rather than continue forward, his dark Leader remained close to him while her pale gaze found that of her son's. He tensed his toes against the ground, wondering if this was a confirmation that he was right not to trust the blood-stained yearling, but he held his tongue.

Elettra requested her youngest son removed from their gathering. "Of course," the Attaya responded, as he always would. His trust in her had never faltered. She was as worthy of his faith as he was faithful to her, and that was known. Forgetting the tension he took a step forward, lowering his head to come closer toward Deacon's height. Motioning toward the willows with his black muzzle he called, "Come along, Deacon. Sköll and the rest of your family will see you back at the den very soon." Almost relieved to be sent away, he would return directly to the den, with plenty to think on during the walk home.

(exit providing @Deacon is willing to leave his bro <3)