Angier gave the boy an indulgent smile. Deacon thought he could do it, but the Leader really did have no doubt about him being capable of such a thing - leadership, a position of power from which he could rule Willow Ridge as a just and fair king. His head tilted to the left from such a sudden thought. King. Pride swelled in his chest and he held the first-born's gaze when their eyes met.
Of course he had known of Elettra's lineage, of her life within Torbine, what she had left behind and what she had taken with her. There was no disputing that she was a queen in her own right though, a learned healer born as a princess and made a monarch through the trials of Relic Lore's wilderness. That being said, that did mean that her sons also had within them royal blood. It sent tingles down his spine.
He might not have thought of himself as a king - a Leader or ruler or Lord or maybe Baron (which was to be his proper title as the head of his father's pack), perhaps - but King Deacon Archer Lyall could have only sounded right. The prince's next question brought him off the tracks of his train of thought and his ears came forward in genuine interest.
"So, uh, what things will I have to learn and practice? Hunting? Guarding? Healing?" he asked.
The older Lyall righted his skull as he considered what skills he and his brothers had to practice and hone... what he and Elettra both requested and demanded of the yearlings and their brood. "Well, huntin' is somethin' e'eryone has ta do," he lent. "What kinda Leader can't feed their followers, hmm?" It was rhetorical question, meant to somewhat strike up a sort of 'aha' moment. "Healin' is useful, but if it isn't yer thing, it jus'... isn't."
"Yer mother an I 'appen to know a bit about it 'cause it was our calling," he then explained. "She was taught in the lands of Torbine; and, I was my uncle's apprentice because yer Uncle Borden had th'brawn to put me an our siblings in place. I couldn't fight or spar. Jus' wasn't my thing." He fell silent for a while before continuing; he would be stupid to tell Deacon that he had only been able to rise as a Leader when Guinness, a late Guardian of the Ridge, had bested him in a rank fight. The point he wanted to make was one that encouraged his son to take up the qualities of a Leader, the commander of a pack, and then do what felt natural or right to him.
"As a Leader, ya have to possess the power an' the will to be dominant over yer subjects," he started again. "Yer mother an' I expect you cubs to figure it all out eventually - where ya stand, what ya wanna do, where ya wanna go - but while ya 'ave us to guide ya, it's ultimately all on you to get what ya want." He stared across the bridge of his muzzle at Deacon, wondering if this all would sink into his sponge-like mind. Then, with averting his eyes, he chose the faint outline of a distant willow and stared at it; with his skull straight, his ears somewhat relaxed, and the fur along his throat and chest fluffed up from the winter chill, he gave the impression of a tired and weary councilman. Maybe, one that could have, in turn, resembled that of a pale-coated lion staring through the bars of a cage. As though, once upon a time, he had been something fierce - a man of rebellion and a zeal for power - and the years of wandering and the weight of power had aged him.
"You 'ave to protect what ya 'ave and guard it as best ya can," he said after some time, his voice a low rumble now. "Which means that you must do whatever ya can to keep everything under your name as-is. Ya have ta hunt in order to feed yer subordinates, yer followers. Ya use yer resources and make 'em a shelter and safe 'aven as if they were yer own cubs. Ya sometimes teach 'em what they don't know and, sometimes, ya need to be flexible, because everyone's different an' there always 'as to be some kind of trust there... between you an' yer mate, yer second-in-command or yer Advisor, yer supporters, yer sons an' daughters. If they can see that, then yer pack will succeed."
The prime example of this, naturally, was Elettra, but Angier had no doubt that Deacon had already expected this, assumed this, seen this, and known this firsthand... which was fortunate, because it meant his son had a much better foundation than he had. It was no wonder now that Borden, he, Asriel, and Skoll all acted out (even Nolan and Tesla had gone out of line, with going against family tradition and leaving Bertram Valley altogether). With Merritt Lyall's secrecy and the Archer cubs' sire's absence, they had all gone without this sort of heart-to-heart parenting. Sorrel and Elettra, even with as influential as they were, could only be so many places at once; while they couldn't have been the ones to blame, maybe, this was the reason sons needed their fathers... why Angier had to change... to forever stay with the one who had both stolen, broken, healed, and kept his heart. Once bound to her, it made no sense for him to maintain his nomadic, Survivalist-driven ways.
"Understand?" he then asked, stealing a glance at the prince through the corner of his eye. "It isn't jus' that though... Most important of all, ya have to want to be a Leader. If ya don't, someone better suited, stronger, more powerful, more diplomatic, might come along an' take the position right from under ya."
Sex: Male
