Contemplations - Open

[Adurnak]

"That is untrue, Shanto."
The night seemed to darken, a swirling cloud of darkness forming behind the wolf and druin as if out of nowhere even as a cold, hard voice echoed from the surrounding trees. A pair of green, cat-like eyes appeared in the shadowy mists, accompanied by a deep, rumbling growl, and the voice spoke again.
"After all, they not only survived the Great War, they won it. If they cared for no one other than themselves, their packs would not have banded together, and they would have fallen one by one to the demon hoards." The eyes narrowed dangerously, drilling into Shanto. "The very same hoards, I might add, that you allied yourself with. It did not matter to you that they would wipe us all from this world, so long as you had your revenge on a single wolf."
The fog started spreading outward at a slow but relentless pace. The eyes disappeared, although there was still a sense of presence within the roiling blackness.
"You have no right to speak of others as selfish and uncaring, Shanto. Not after the atrocities you have committed."

[Vivid]

Intrigued and frightened, Dai listened to what the female was saying carefully, making a mental note of it all to pass on to the healer they went to. He was right about a poison, but shadow poison? That was new to him. Something that ran through the bloodstream and could manipulate the target at any time... He needed to get her help, and fast. Before being able to tell Zef he was leaving, another wolf, winged like Shanto, came crashing down, grumbling about being too old. Feeling more at ease since his Alpha made no defensive move, and recognizing the scent of Pack, Daichi watched with caution still as the elder made his way over to Káshila and himself, his round feline ears perking as the wolf came over to speak.

I was going to get her out of here anyway, he thought to himself, silently agreeing to distract the friend he spoke of. After all, he could use someone to get back to base and get a healer ready for their arrival. With one last look at his Alpha and the winged wolf, Dai turned around and ran as fast as he could with Káshila on his back, making sure not to knock her around too much, and frequently looking back to make sure she was still alive. Time was of value, and he was going to make it count. "Hold on Káshila, I won't let anything happen to you."


OOC: Going to move to another thread, I'll post it in just a few. Cooking dinner. Link will be >here<

[Mokobo]

The appearance of not one, but two new arrivals forced all uncertainties Oren had to the side of his field of focus. While Hawke had his dramatic entrance, the young druin looked away to shield his eyes from the dust and debris. As those orange orbs turned back to see what manner of creatures had made such a stir, they would first widen with shock then narrow with fury. He instantly recognized the wolf for one of the desert, and naturally assumed here was one of the very pack which had terrorized his early life. A small growl would bubble up within his chest as the fur at the nape of his neck bristled with his anger. The youth's hatred was so powerful that he barely took notice of the wolf's features let alone what he was saying.
Shanto's words would draw Oren ever so slightly back to a level plane of thinking. The druin would give a slight nod at the final statement his new acquaintance made, agreeing entirely. Before he had been uncertain if this pack was anything like the one which had burned his home. All doubt was gone now that he saw they actually were friendly with one of those mutts. Yet before he could put his voice forth to express his distaste at their new company, another voice spoke out in response to Shanto. With his blood already boiling and the tension of the situation, Oren would spin to face the source of this new surprise. As he moved, the druin would swing his sword in a horizontal cut which could prove quite devastating. However, the inexperience youth's tail slipped halfway through the blind attack, causing him to lose balance and the blade to swing harmlessly into the earth. The only devastation the attack would reap was upon one particularly unfortunate fly which had the horrible luck of being where it was.
As a traveler from the distant deserts to the south, Oren had no knowledge of this Great War which this inexplicable presence mentioned. Yet the mention of a demon hoard was enough of a clue for him to figure it had been fought against his mother's kind. The druin had never known his mother, but he did know her blood in his veins was the very reason the pack of his native lands had exiled he and his father. It was also the reason their had been so much sorrow in his short life created by the desert pack's paws. So these creatures not only shared their lands with that lot of bigots but their prejudices too? It all made the druin pup's blood begin to rush to his head as his fury built once more. The mention of 'atrocities' was the proper fuel to make the inferno in his head burst into a blaze. "What would you know of atrocities!?"

Hawke had opened his mouth to make a witty response to Shanto's remarks of his age and capability of laying a claw on his person. It had been a good one too, dealing with how he didn't want to take the time it would require to clean the filth of said claw. However, the sudden appearance of the well-spoken fog caused him to close his mouth and decide to save the insult for later use. He would instead slowly approach, his golden eyes fixed on a sudden curiosity he noticed loosely strapped to the young druin's back. Hawke had noticed the hatred with which the youth had stared him down, and this was what had drawn his attention to the pup to begin with. Now, with Oren's back to him, the golden wolf could see the sheath of warped wood with the golden Mark set into its fibers. For a moment Hawke stared with disbelief before pulling himself back into a calm, carefree demeanor. Where the druin had gotten that sword would simply have to wait until a better time.
Turning his attention back to the conversation between Shanto and the as of yet unknown presence, Hawke caught the bit about revenge on a single wolf. An old feeling of sorrow tugged ever so slightly at his heart, but the gilded wolf would not reveal this in any sort of way. If only you knew. That score was settled long ago. This isn't even the same creature that can claim that vengeance...that wolf died at the bottom of a cliff...this is just...a bad memory. Feeling that perhaps this conversation was not going in the direction he desired, Hawke would take one final step before calmly taking a seat upon the ground. In a nonchalant sort of way he would lift a paw to investigate one of his claws, pondering to himself if it might not be worth a little cleaning to satisfy old urges. Oren's outburst only received a quirked eyebrow from the aged wolf before he would raise his own calm voice.
"Well if we're done with this rather riveting discussion of old gossip. There was one subject I wanted to press to this- this" Here he paused to make a quite exaggerated gagging motion, almost as if the very thought of putting a title to Shanto disgusted him. "Well, you know what it is." Those golden eyes suddenly sharpened into a fierce piercing gaze which he turned upon Shanto. It was time to get down to brass tax, to try and do what he had made him fly as fast as his aging wings could carry him, "Did the Old One perform a ceremony when he gave you your mark?"

[Relairah]

Unlike Oren's dramatic outburst, Shanto remained the same, showing no surprise whatsoever at the voice echoing out of the shadowy mist. He glanced slightly toward the Druin as he slung his sword, before his gaze settled onto the mist. Though he didn't indicate it, he was somewhat curious, however. It was the first time he had ever encountered another with the same ability as himself. He wanted to learn more. But he knew at that precise moment was not the time. Instead, he found himself warming up even more to the young Druin at his side, agreeing with his statement. He also found himself wanting to know the hidden history behind his words. What had this one been through? Shanto had already formed his schemes, but they were now even more solidified. And he was now even more determined to make his leave soon so as to regroup with this Druin. He met the eyes settled in the shadow squarely, his own gaze fierce. 'How much this one seems to think he knows while also knowing so little.' Shanto thought silently. It was not merely revenge on a singular wolf that drove him. It was far more than that.

But that would have to wait. It was a long answer to give... and Hawke finally spoke once more. He smirked slightly, quirking a brow as the other failed to give him an adequate title. He was certain he could've filled in the blanks - though only to have the golden one sling mud at him. As soon as Hawke asked his question, Shanto's eyes darkened only slightly. He knew exactly what the aged warrior meant and he tensed slightly. "What of it?" he asked back, not specifically confirming, but knowing Hawke would read into it. Beneath the surface, Shanto was writhing even if he was keeping his composure for the moment. He wanted to lunge at him then and there... but he must wait.

At the appearance of the shadow and the voice that spoke, Zefirino recognized it instantly. He had fought side by side with this wolf in the Demon War and had heard well of the tales of him otherwise. Only because of his aid was he a friend to the Empire, despite the fact that he had seen no interest in remaining when things had calmed and been renewed. Still, the alpha felt a stir. What had possessed him to reappear here and at this precise moment? However, his focus remained on the matter at hand. It would be just like Shanto to try and pull another stunt... and he would be ready. At Hawke's words, his ears perked slightly. Where was he going with this? Something in his gut sensed a deeper meaning even beyond what the veteran would reveal. There was something going on... Zefirino had sensed it for some time now, but had seen fit to let it be for the time being. He tucked it away silently.

[Adurnak]

A ray of black fire lanced from the depths of the fog, passing between Oren and Shanto to strike the ground in front of Hawk. There was no heat from the flames, and they did not actually ignite anything, but the undergrowth touched by it was still badly charred. The green eyes reappeared as the voice spoke again, this time carrying a lot more force behind it.
"You are not blameless in this either, Hawk! Do not think I am unaware of the time you and Coldbane spent as members of the Elite."
The eyes turned to Oren, and the voice softened a bit, sounding more old and weary than powerful. "Young one, why do you take such offence at the mention of a war where wolf and Druin fought side-by-side instead of against one another?"

[Mokobo]

At the sudden burst of energy which scourged the earth before him, Hawke tensed ever so slightly. For a brief moment all pretense of nonchalance was gone, leaving a hard glint within that golden gaze which glared at source of the attack. A younger version of this wolf would have lost his temper. Even a few winters ago Hawke might have at least replied with a verbal assault, most likely something along the lines of practicing on bushes first. This venerable veteran would instead recover his care-free demeanor after that brief moment of fury. Shanto was not a creature to be trifled with and any slip in his guard could prove fatal, or worse. The mysterious presence, whose knowledge stirred Hawke's natural curiosity, could very well prove to be the distraction Shanto would need to gain the upper hand.
After the black fire had torn its path between Oren and Shanto, the former had once assumed his battle stance which had been so embarrassingly broken. Balanced precariously upon his tail, the young druin gripped the hilt of his sword tightly as he peered into the darkness. Green eyes once more appeared, but Oren felt frustrated that this creature continued to remain shrouded. His young blood continued to boil with anger, and the added irritation only served to stoke the embers of his rage. The youth would cease trying to determine the exact size of the creature when a question was posed to him. Despite the gentle tone directed his way, Oren's rising temper added an acidic quality to his response. "I don't give a grr about some war fought before I was even born! Your kind probably started the whole thing! After all, that bigot over there is part of your pack!"
Bigot? Now hold on there for a second kiddo. The druin pup's final statement had caused Hawke to quirk his brow in surprise. He had been accused of many things, the most recent jab having come only moments before. However, one thing that had never made it to this list was the title 'bigot'. Those who knew him in friendly or even neutral passing would find him cheery if occasionally distant. Good friends found him to be loyal and supporting, unless of course he was distracted by whatever new academic puzzle he had found. The closest of companions knew of his family, the one he kept sequestered in secrecy. 'Bigot' was far from a fitting title. "Hold on there, I think you may have me confused with someone else."
"You shut your mouth! Your pack destroyed my home! My life!"
"Well that's odd, as my entire pack was destroyed when I was kidnapped as a pup. That was when I was about your age." Hawke resisted a smirk of satisfaction at the surprised look which a particularly flabbergasted Oren wore. The elder had dealt with far more rebellious pups with far worse tempers. Those wide orange eyes were full of shock and confusion, which was a cue to once more attempt to take control of the situation. The gilded wolf would rise from his seat upon the ground to stride forward ever so slowly. As his voice would raise up once more he would pass around the scorched turf with a disdainful look. "Every. Single. Member. Killed off in the night while I was taken hostage. Sound familiar Shanto?" Even though this particular bit of narration was directed toward the other beings, Hawke made a point to direct his gaze to the one he named. He wanted his old foe to know he was still watching.
"That's how I was made an Elite, I won't deny it. That's how I got the Mark." Here he could not hold back the satisfied smirk as he saw Oren's eyes bulge as the youth noticed the Mark for the first time. "Yet it is a little late in the evening for reminiscing about old topics." By now Hawke would be a mere few paces away from the group. He would pause, remaining on all fours as he once more turned his now fierce gaze upon Shanto. "My question is already answered. You never were one to be up front, but not too hard to read if you know how to see through all that gunk. Now what I really want to know is if you remember just one small detail, a stretch for someone with such a selective memory as you." Here he paused, but whether it was for dramatic effect or from his own anticipation was hard to tell.
"Did it hurt when Icewulf pushed you off that cliff? Not the push itself of course, but that sudden stop after?"

[Relairah]

As the flame shot forth from the shadow, a flash of a smirk appeared at the corner of Shanto's lip, and was gone in a moment. A mere micro-expression that one would have only caught if they were trained in such things. Even if there was no heat, Shanto used the brief distraction, a ray of shadow reaching through the ray of fire and attempting to strike the young Druin's side. The effect would be no more than a mosquito's bite or a bee's sting, but the results would go far deeper. If, if, Shanto's shadow successfully seeped into the young one's bloodstream. The shadow was gone with the flame as quickly as it had come, no more discernible than a mere tongue of fire escaping from the ray of shadow. At least to someone who didn't know any better. How much more of a chance he could've been given, he didn't know... but it was high time he took control of the situation.

But Shanto's gaze merely fell on the charred earth, before rising once more to the glowing eyes. He now found himself even further drawn to this one hidden in the mere mist of shadow. How much did he know? Really? And how had he learned it? These questions pulled at Shanto's mind, though he also took note to the Druin's words and furthermore to Hawke's. Yes. It was high time he regained control. He grew anxious, he found, when things spiraled too far from it. He had no way of stopping the golden one as the words trying to gain this young one's attention spilled from his lips. "Indeed," he said shortly, fire lighting within him at the mention of his family and things long past. He wondered if Hawke knew that his daughters had survived? Though it didn't mean much now.

Shanto couldn't help a small partial snort, partial huff, partial laugh at Hawke's comment about his selective memory. He had the urge to say something snide back, but instead the question was carried on and demanded yet another answer. A pry into a past that was long gone. And yet still so fresh in many ways. He frowned, flashes suddenly echoing in his mind of the events that had unfolded when he had 'died'. Or perhaps he had actually died. He remembered the sudden stop. And then he remembered waking up at the bottom of the ravine as if he had only fainted for a short time. "Of course it did," he replied, curling back a snarl. Of course Shanto didn't remember being dead. He only even then felt a new curiosity rising. Had he actually died and been brought back? Who had done it? And how? And for what purpose?

So many new questions were demanding answers. Blanks to fill and much to find. All the more reason to end this. And to find the old one once more. "As you said, Hawke, it's a little late in the evening for reminiscing about old topics. Especially ones such as that. After all despite what you claim your family suffered, you didn't hold back for a single moment as you slaughtered mine. Ripped out their helpless throats and spilled their blood with your claws. And as long as you live their blood and countless others' stains your paws." As much as Shanto wished to lunge at Hawke's throat, he remained firm. After all, he had already gained part of what he had come for... already far from this clearing and unbeknownst to the golden veteran before him. If he had been successful in his maneuver of shadow before, the young Druin would now feel an urge to follow after Shanto as he in an instant vaporized into a shadowy mist, much the same as the one that had appeared recently, and began to leave.

Zefirino tensed at the show of flames from the shadows. "Vyrn, calm yourself. You have no place talking to a Cordus in that manner." His voice was strong, steady, commanding, and yet not threatening. Zef also found himself wanting to learn more of Vyrn, to speak with him on cordial terms. Even if the other had rejected the idea of being part of the Empire. "The sins of the past are erased in this new era. That's one of the purpose's of Noctre Imperii." Yet even just as he spoke, Vyrn questioned the young Druin and the argument continued. The alpha did not fail to note Hawke's own show of control and experience and Zefirino truly wondered if the pup would still follow after Shanto. That question was dampened as soon as Shanto spoke again. Despite the untruth's in Shanto's words, he knew the young one would only be confused and any kinship he might feel toward Hawke would be called into question. At least, Zefirino knew from his own experience that would be Shanto's intent. His words were as poisonous as his magic. The words "Enough. Take your leave, Shanto, before you find your own blood spilt," never left his lips as Shanto became no more than a mist of shadow himself. He knew it was not the last they would see of him... but he knew that Shanto would not try to attack here and now.

"Vyrn, I may have no authority as your alpha in question, but you subject yourself when you venture here... You are welcome for your aid in the War... still, do you intend to continue to hide in the shadow?"

[Adurnak]

"I no longer have reason to, my young friend."
The roiling mists calmed somewhat, and a large black male wolf emerged with residual shadow energy trailing from his pelt like wisps of black fog. Three silver-gray stripes ran the length of his muzzle, the center one continuing up to the top of his head. Long talon-like claws bit into the loam underfoot as he stopped a respectful distance away, nodding politely to each of them in turn before addressing Oren.
"Young fighter, I believe we are speaking of two different conflicts; the Demon Wars, which I believe are what you are thinking of, was when your race fought against the wolves of that era. In the more recent Great War, which I was referring to, saw the Druin fighting alongside the wolves. I fought side by side with your kin in several battles, as did these two pups. Now, on a more present subject, I see, and earlier very nearly felt, that you carry a blade. Where did you get it, and why have you not had any training or instruction with it?"

[Mokobo]

Hawke wore an impassive expression of boredom as he listened to Shanto's parting words. The wolf with the gilded pelt offered no objection to the accusations made, even though they were far from the truth. He did not say how it was he who led the young from the scene that night. There was no need to mention how he had shielded their young eyes from the carnage and whispered soothing words to the most frightened. The veteran knew the lack of blood on his paws did not make them any cleaner, but this was not why he held his tongue. Shanto had never, and most likely would never listen to any reason upon the subject.
A small smirk would form on Hawke's lips as his old foe eroded into a dark mist which swirled away in retreat. He had not only succeeded in gaining the knowledge he had sought, but in turn had, with any luck, given his nemesis a distraction. Shanto had certainly looked as if the interrogation had unsettled something within. It was a foolish hope that those thoughts would entirely deter the being of vengeance from pursuing his goal. Still, any sort of distraction from that goal could only serve to buy the intended victims more time to prepare. For a moment Hawke pondered to himself what he had deduced from this momentous evening. So that makes three of us then...peculiar. After this brief thought Hawke would turn his gaze upon the young druin, and what he saw caused the smirk to fall from his lips.
After the golden wolf so skillfully defused the young druin's anger, he found himself feeling unusually weak. Yet was it truly just fatigue? His legs and paws did feel awfully light and his balanced position upon his tail was wavering slightly. The voices of the others was beginning to muffle, almost as if his head had suddenly been shoved underwater. Despite all his efforts, Oren could not seem to will his limbs to obey his whims. At first the sensation was annoying, yet a panic would take hold as he watched his own paws slowly sheath his sword. The pup could feel his paws leave the scorched leather of the hilt, but it was as if his body had taken control of itself. Fear caused his pulse to raise, only serving to quicken the spread of Shanto's poison.
The former's response to Hawke's interrogation were the only words which he could hear clearly, indeed each word seem almost amplified. Inexplicably he found himself hanging off this stranger's every word, drinking each syllable like a desert wanderer at some oasis. As Shanto dissipated into a shroud of shadow and took his leave, Oren would find himself willed to follow. After the familiar pull of the Mark this sort of thing no longer surprised the youth. However he once more felt fright take hold in his chest as his body fell back to all fours and began to indulge itself of this urge.
Something was very wrong. His body seemed to be acting of its own accord. Even worse, he soon discovered he could not raise his own voice. What is going on?! Then, in warbled almost garbled words, Oren realized he was being addressed. The hidden creature had finally revealed itself and was asking him questions. The explanation before these inquiries chased all fear from Oren's mind, if only for a moment, replacing the sensation with annoyance. Didn't I already tell you I don't care about any old wars? Following this were the questions, the first of which seemed insignificant compared to the fact that his body was acting of its own accord. However the following inquiry brought his blood to a virtual boil. As the fire within his chest swelled he found himself suddenly in control once more. A growl rumbled within his youthful chest as he reared upon his tail and hind legs once again, reaching behind him to grasp for his blade.
"If you have to sheath that sword un-blooded twice, you will shame Deathblood's memory!" Hawke watched as for the second time that night he saw disbelief take root in the young druin's gaze. However, almost immediately the wide eyes drooped with a sort of emptiness. Hawke's frown lengthened into one of concern as Oren dropped back to all fours before turning to dash off after Shanto. Well that's no good...at least it appears Shanto may have his hands full with that one. The golden wolf would turn his gaze toward the night sky, letting a small sigh escape him. Still, unknown variables and all...
"Phoebus." The wolf uttered this name in a voice that was almost a whisper, keeping his gaze trained toward the heavens in a ponderous sort of way. Upon his foreleg was a golden band with a cracked jewel. From this adornment a wisp of golden light began to slowly trail out. This light condensed into a small orb which promptly began to bounce through the air in a merry sort of way. "Cut that out. It's time to go to work." The wisp would cease its joyous flight, promptly soaring over to the one who had summoned it. Once the sphere was before him, Hawke would lower his gaze from the stars. "I need you to follow Shanto and that druin. Do not return without the sword the druin has." The light would quite suddenly, and angrily, bounce through the air. "I don't care how just get it done!" A slight hint of anger edged into the normally cheerful wolf's voice. The golden wisp would bounce once more before shooting off into the night, quickly disappearing among the twinkling stars.
After this brief curiosity, and another weary sigh, Hawke would survey the area. Of the group that had been there, only a select few remained. One of which seemed to know an awful lot about otherwise secretive matters. There were too many players in the game, and the golden wolf wanted to know about every one of them. Still wearing a slight frown, which seemed so uncharacteristic, the veteran wolf would begin to approach Vyrn. In that moment he seemed every bit a Cordus of the Vorlfur, striding with a brisk, determined gait. "You! Vyrn is it? Explain yourself!" Golden eyes focused into a fierce gaze not unlike the one with which he had interrogated Shanto.

[Relairah]

OoC: Monkey, I propose breaking off into another thread with Shanto and Oren since it'll be separate from the remaining group XD

iC:

Zefirino frowned as he also observed the obvious changes that carried over the young Druin and the lack of responses before he then ran after Shanto. Though Vyrn's own interest in the sword also raised Zefirino's mindset as much as it had Hawke's. He still intended to learn more of what Hawke had indicated when interrogating Shanto... still, he felt it was not the time or place for such questions. After all, he still intended to make his way toward the Vorlfur and their grounds when they were done here. Instead of asking further questions, he let Hawke charge forward, his gaze watching Vyrn with more than a little curiosity for his response. He knew the other to be one to flee at the first hint that someone might pry into his secrets. But in this case, he certainly owed an explanation for the knowledge he had so readily shown off.

[Adurnak]

Vyrn quirked an eyebrow at the exchange between Hawke and a will-o-wisp he had summoned from the flawed gemstone on his bracer. It wasn't the actual presence of the 'wisp that had his interest, however; He had known about Phoebus since before the Great War. Rather, it was the instructions Hawke had given the little creature that had aroused his curiosity. The shadow-mage's own interest in Oren's sword had simply been as to why the young druin would arm himself with a weapon he could not use, but Hawke seemed to want that blade for some reason. When the old desert wolf then proceeded to storm up to him and demand an explanation for his actions, Vyrn was silent for a long moment before replying.
"I have my own reasons for what I do, Hawke, and while I doubt you would understand some of them, in this instance it was to prevent a fight that would accomplish nothing. As for my knowledge of the Elite..." Vyrn heaved a tired sigh, settling back on his haunches. "I was a wanderer for a very long time before I settled in Toai, collecting and trading in information, lore, tales... knowledge of every sort. A sort of bard, if you will. One of the regions I journeyed through was the North Mountains, while the Elite were still at large."

[Mokobo]

Sharp golden eyes would continue to scrutinize Vyrn as the latter held their silence for a moment. In the lull of the conversation Hawke wondered to himself exactly how old this one before him could be. Even though the Elite's reign of terror had lasted for generations, his had been the last. Their uprising had torn the group and their affiliates from the seat of power, giving way to revolution and eventually peace in the North. Yet all of that seemed now to have happened ages ago. While this curiosity before him did not look to be old enough for such knowledge, Hawke was no stranger to beings who didn't have the decency to appear their age. How much could this new acquaintance know? Could he know of the Old One? Hawke doubted this was the case, as the enigmatic leader of the Elite had operated in a clandestine fashion. Even Hawke had met Zales face to face only three times during his long life.
A small snort of derision would escape the gilded elder as he at last received a response to his inquisition. Despite this, the ferocity of his gaze would wane as he looked once more to the stars above. An ominously cold breeze breathed forth from between the nearby trees, gushing into the clearing with soft gusts. At much the same that Vyrn made his gesture of weariness and took his seat, a similarly soft sigh would escape Hawke's chest. As the other gave himself the title 'bard' a small smirk would tug at the veteran wolf's lips as he lowered his gaze. With his temper now in check, the golden wolf's natural humor would break free in all-be-it a some-what harsh manner. "A bard? Do you happen to know any bawdy ballads? We may need one in the days to come."
With this Hawke would turn from the creature of shadow, striding with a brisk pace to his alpha. Once he faced Zefirino, the elder wolf would offer a brief bow of his forelegs. Despite having tutored his leader during their youth, Hawke always seemed to make a point of showing his alpha the respect he deserved. After the gesture, the golden wolf would lean forward slightly to mutter of soft utterance. "We must rouse the Vorlfur, but first there are matters to discuss. I suggest we adjourn to the Domus, but I'll leave that to your discretion-" With a short pause Hawke would turn his head to give Vyrn one last assessing look. Despite his lowered tone, the elder had no doubt this visitor would have heard most of his words. "I suggest you come too. At the very least I can correct you on some of your history notes." For a brief moment that hard quality would take hold in Hawke's eyes before he spoke again. "However, I must insist you stop referring to me as an Elite. Even though I still bear the Mark, that side of me perished long ago."

[Relairah]

Zefirino's thoughts were aligned with Hawke's. Perhaps from experience. Or perhaps because of his time spent in the past with his packmate. Even he didn't know the full extent of what had happened before the Defenders had come to the territory, he certainly knew enough. He couldn't help a slight smile as Hawke responded in his humorous fashion. Perhaps it was largely due to Hawke's influence that Zefirino had mischief and fun in his nature. But his time growing up was not to be dwelt on at the moment. He still felt a slight tension within his frame... even if Shanto had left the land. It was of utmost importance he meet with the Vorlfur. It seemed Hawke echoed his very concerns.

"Yes. Every member of the Vorlfur is to be alerted." Zef never failed to note Hawke's respect... and he was grateful more than he could express. It was true that he had been chosen as the leader by the rest... but he had also demonstrated his worthiness. Despite that, Zef had never let his alpha-ship go to his head and he treated his fellow packmates with respect in their own right - as long as respect was also returned.

His gaze fell on Vyrn as Hawke approached him and invited him to join them. Despite the worthiness Vyrn had also shown during the most recent war, Zefirino felt hesitant. It was not that he suspected the other. He knew well enough that his heart was tried and true in the face of evil. But this was something he wished to keep within the pack - the Vorlfur specifically, for the time being. If the danger became too realized, he worried for the peace of mind that currently rested within the pack. A responsibility to keep it rested also on his shoulders. It was also clear to him that Vyrn could keep a secret. He certainly had kept his own. But he had also chosen to go his way. And these issues were both sensitive and important. If handled wrongly, another catastrophe could very well be resting on their paws. And further, Vyrn already knew far more than his comfort level. And given how it had come to light...

Slowly, the alpha released his breath. He trusted his Cordus' judgement. He also knew it would be wise to have Vyrn at least aware of the situation since he already knew part of it. At the very least for the sake of dealing with what was to come. Zef stepped forward then, turning toward the mountain where the Domus was carved. They would summon the Vorlfur once they arrived.

[Adurnak]

Vyrn rose to his feet as Zefirino turned towards the Domus. "I do not think it would be wise for me to participate in this meeting, Hawke. There will be tension enough without the presence of an outsider, and I doubt that there is anything useful I could contribute at the moment in any case. Zefirino, if you need to contact me, send a messenger to the heart of the Drackeep Ruins."
The shadowy loner started to turn, then paused and looked back at the young alpha. "Remember, my young friend, that not all of the past's secrets are unpleasant. If you know where to look, what to listen for, who to ask, you may be pleasantly surprised."
With that he vanished, blinking out of view with a startling abruptness.

[Mokobo]

A wry sort of smirk would take hold upon Hawke's lips as Vyrn gave his parting advice before taking his leave. What a painfully vague bit of advice. The gilded wolf considered himself somewhat of an academic, having spent the last few years devoted to several studies. He had discovered amazing bits of knowledge lost through the sands of time, most of them unexpected. As such, it was his experience that the best knowledge was attained through being diligent in one's studies and keeping one's mind open to new revelations. As the the visitor to their lands disappeared in the blink of an eye, Hawke would roll his own golden orbs before giving Zefirino a droll look of disappointment. "Well I suppose we can always make the Unguis hum or something."
The elder wolf noted his young alpha's eagerness to make their way to the Hall of the Vorlfur, and yet he himself felt hesitant. The wry smirk would give way to a bland expression of contemplation as Hawke gazed off in the direction in which Daichi had departed. "If I may." The statement was given softly, his words coming forth slowly as his brow furrowed in concern. "Your father would have been alerted to Shanto's presence the same as I was..." With this Hawke would turn to face Zefirino once more. "I sent the youth with his charge in the hopes they would intercept him, and that he hasn't shown up here is a good indicator that my plan worked. However..." Try as hard as he could, the elder could not recall just how the female had received her wound. He knew all too well the danger of a blow delivered by his old foe. "I think it best if we find him before assembling the Vorlfur, otherwise we may never hear the end of it.." At least I hope that is the worst possibility..
Hawke would bow slightly once more after giving his suggestion and reason for it. No matter what, he would obey whichever decision his alpha would make. When the pair took their leave, Hawke would follow after his young leader, making sure to afford him every respect due as the proper ruler of the Imperii.


OoC - It's not much, but I've never been one for transition posts >.>