Featuring: Alarion & Kyros
Location: Glasmuir Woods (Winter)
His large paws, sunk into the snow as he picked his way through the frosted woods of Glasmuir. The maze-like forest intertwined in a thick weave, almost strangling the trickle of sunlight that crept in through the dense, icy canopy. Shaking the gathered snow off of his pelt, Kyros paused. His eyes catching the sight of buried twigs among the snowy mounds.
Another one? His burning gaze furrowed as he surveyed the hidden pit. He’d been monitoring the forest’s parameter for an hour now. Discovering many of these covered traps strewn about the thick, dense foliage.
Were these lain by the huntsmen?
Winter was hard for the Valerians. The herds that normally ran through during the Spring and Summer vying for much warming lands. It wouldn’t be unheard of for the hunters to try another tactic in order to find more game. Yet, this was the first time he heard of hunting traps being used.
He snorted, Quinn surely would have mentioned it at the beta council. So where on earth had these come from? Brushing aside the carefully laid branches, Kyros lifted his dark head. A stream of condensation leaving his lips in the chilly, winter air. He’d been dismantling the hunting contraptions as soon as he came upon them. With the heavy snowfall, it would be easy for one of the juveniles or pups to get trapped within these pits.
A loud snap and an enraged, hollowed out squeal pierced the forest, breaking Kyros from his thoughts. His ears flitted as the fluttering sound of bird’s wings echoed throughout the once silent clearing. Kyros moved, his paws plummeted to the ground as he broke into a swift sprint, dirt and ice being thrown in his wake. They’re close, Kyros thought quickly turning his fiery eyes towards the shadowed woods, carefully scanning for any sign of the boar.
He had to take it down now before it hurt someone in its anger.
A loud squeal to his left revealed the grotesque pig and Kyros shot from the brush in a flash of brown, fangs gleaming.
This just had to be worth it. For two days was Alarion up and about, finding good spots for traps to be set, finding the bait to lure animals there and bringing it all together eventually. Over a dozen traps were set at this point, which for sure had taken a toll on the youngling. The rock hard soil was no fun to dig into. Not that he wasn’t happy with his efforts of course, but his coat was muddy, scruffed up and his just recovered paws were all rough and ripped again. He had to prove his point though! Quinn had to see just how useful his traps really were. They all had to see it.
With a deep breath and some vigorous squinting of his reddened, circle ridden eyes, he turned his back on the newest trap. This one was particularly promising, because he’d found some nice juicy grubs under an old tree’s bark earlier. Smushing them gave off a strong scent, that only few animals would resist in winter.
With his strength slowly giving way to weariness, Alarion decided he would call it a day. There was no use in overworking himself to the point where he couldn’t stand upright anymore. That would likely just end up in the opposite of what he was trying to prove. Nonetheless he kept roaming the area however, now keeping his eyes and nose open for changes in his surroundings. Passing by one of the earlier set traps closer to the river parting these woods from the camp, he frowned at the sight of twigs broken without any animal trapped in there. This kept happening, but the ground was just too hard to dig deep enough to prevent rabbits from jumping out. Just as he was considering to rebuild the top layer, a noise not too far from here had him cock his head. No… this was impossible! Did he really manage to…?! A rush of excitement pumped through his veins, as he bolted through the snowy undergrowth, only to arrive at a stunning spectacle: One of his pack mates battled against the beast whose squeals he’d just heard: A massive boar. For a few seconds he was frozen in awe, though he couldn’t just stand by watching.
Eventually he snapped out of it, so instead of letting the brown wolf handle the situation himself, Alarion jolted towards the two entwined creatures, teeth flashing in the effort to get a good grip onto the boar’s thigh. His attempts were vanishingly ineffective compared to those of the Valerian, but with him taking care of the boar’s front, at least the youngling could help keeping the massive beast from struggling all too much. And lucky for him a sudden rush of blood poured into his mouth and down his chest, as his canine teeth ripped through their victim’s femoral artery, although a desperate kick from the second hooved hind leg forced him to let go with a yelp, now just circling the scene cautiously in fear of getting hit again.
Kyros cursed, barely dodging the crimson boar as it struck out with a sideways lift of its head. Its pale tusks skirted across Kyros’s fur; shaved tufts flying from the blow. A relieved hiss left his lips at the boar’s miss.
Way too close, he thought gritting his teeth as the pig squealed. What had angered it? Another loud squeal and spittle flew from the boar’s throat. It’s beady eyes narrowing in on another shadow to his left.
Who?
Kyros watched the stranger jolt forward, their teeth latching onto the boar’s massive leg and tearing into the flesh. Dark, red blood gushed from the stranger’s attack as he was sent flying backwards. The boar threw its head back as it bellowed in pain. Lowering it’s massive head it scraped a cloven hoof on the dusty ground. A charge imminent in its rage. Gleaming, yellow eyes set on the stranger who had taken a chunk out of it.
No. No. He had to keep them safe!
Kyros roared, rushing forward once more, he leapt onto the hog’s back, piercing his fangs into its rolling, thick hide. He twisted hard, causing the boar and him to roll and skid across the ground. It struggled, throwing it’s head to and fro in an effort to get free from Kyros’s fangs once they came to a stop. Pressing his claws firmly down on the boar, he slashed them downward and tore into the boar’s neck with his fangs. It squealed and kicked and fought even as its life drained from it, refusing to go easily and wearing Kyros down even more.
As the boar's life faded, Kyros relinquished his hold. Grunting when the boar began to shakily move. He stood rigid, watching the pig as it swayed from side to side. The boar’s anger the only thing keeping its limbs moving forward. Kyros snarled, ready to fight once more when it gasped heavily; finally collapsing. Its tongue lolling out in its demise.
For the remaining time of the struggle Alarion kept his distance, carefully watching the scene with his head ringing a bit from the boar’s blow. If the apparently not only strong but also skilled stranger would turn out to be unable of killing the beast, maybe Alarion could lure it away or even strike somehow. Then again… even if he was well fed and not overly tired, he’d likely be of no help to the much more powerful wolf.
Just as he was cautiously checking for both, escape ways and possibilities to aid the stranger, the battle between the two massive creatures came to an agonizing end with squeals and screams filling the air around them. It had been more than just impressive to watch the precise yet rushed bites of the other male, bringing a boar down on his own was something to be proud of for sure. With the struggles of their prey dying down, Alarion’s silver gaze now examined the wolf a little more closely. He couldn’t see his face from the current position, but he did not believe to have seen him in Vale yet. Still, the scent of their densite was all over him. The scent of other wolves as well. And there was something else… Something familiar, which he couldn’t quite grasp. “A very impressive catch.” he praised, his paws slowly drawing closer and his young voice keeping a polite manner. “Are you of Vale too?” he asked, making sure to include the ‘too’ in order to signal his own belonging to the pack.
He still couldn’t see his face, though a moment later that would change. And with the simple movement of a turning head, the whole atmosphere suddenly shifted. For a long two seconds Alarion looked at the other wolf like he would at any strange Valerian. Then, suddenly, his ears folded back, his tail fled beneath his loin and his eyes widened in realization. Amber eyes pierced right into his soul, tore their surroundings apart and even blocked out the presence of the boar just next to them. “You-”
Kyros cocked his head, scanning the russet wolf again, his dark fur slipping over his shoulder. He ignored the aching sting from the tussle with the boar, the muscles sore and tired. Instead his mind churned, wondering why the other wolf’s eyes burned with hostility.
What’s with this newcomer? Kyros thought, before he tightened his maw in a grimace. A new realization washing over him. Had he met the other before Vale? The last time he had seen that face directed at him had been when Nyru had found out about their origins. It felt like a lifetime ago, but he could never forget that moment. Her eyes filled with hatred and sorrow.
But, after the dark ages, the two were long passed that strife. Clearing his head, Kyros kept his burning gaze locked on the Dreg. Whatever this was he needed to face it.
He shouldered himself, eyes gleaming with the practiced edge of being a sentinel. “Do I know you?”
Despite the slight confusion creeping onto Kyros’ features, Alarion did not one second hesitate in his decision to confront him. This was Cairne’s beta. There was no doubt. Heart racing and eyes growing blank from stress, he could barely get himself to move until the stranger’s voice had him flinch. The hefty male didn’t even remember him? Why was he even surprised? It had always been his brothers earning all the fame. Right now he barely knew what to respond and finally, despite the urge to turn around and run off, he managed to opened his mouth. “You should. I was the one banished for criticizing those missions.” His every word trembled in terror. He took a step back, but at the same time he straightened up - even if the ruthless soldier of Cairne really stood before him, he wouldn’t take down Alarion inside of Vale, would he? It was clear they both belonged to the same pack now, which lead to the assumption Kyros would prefer to remain in Vale’s favor.
The moment he realized, that there was no attack forming against him granted him a boost in self-assurance, as clearly audible from his next train of speech. “I’m not surprised you don’t remember me.” A lie. But it fed his purpose. “I’m sure you have forgotten about all the victims dying from your fangs as well.” A rather deep growl underlined his aggressive yet terrified words.
Kyros’s eyes widened, cringing at the russet wolf’s tone. “Banished?” He tilted his head, pondering before it clicked. A memory of a younger wolf, berating him, after Kyros came back from a mentally draining raid. One of many that had Kyros questioning his alpha and the Cairne’s ideals. Yet, the idea of abandoning them at the time had been foreign to him, out of the question. Although he had secretly wished for it. He’d even gone before his alpha to question their ways after Nyru’s pack was raided. Survival for the Cairne. Think of nothing else, Kyros. His alpha had whispered before sending him off to fight in the pits, punishment for bringing up such nonsense. His path had been set, ingrained, commands he followed until his step-father’s greed led way to the Cairne’s decimation. When it was all over, Kyros had been left with nothing. Unsure of the future, of the freedom of choice.
In the end, Kyros figured Wendigo had just disappeared or been killed, just like his own mother when she tried to flee from the Cairne’s clutches. It had been a passing thought that was quickly overshadowed by another raid and another regret. Yet, here stood the brazen wolf from his hazy memories. Alive.
I’m sure you have forgotten about all the victims dying from your fangs as well. Kyros snarled, eyes gleaming cold. “You know nothing. Just as you assumed you did back then.” Gods if he could go back and change things he would, but time didn’t move that way. He had to keep marching forward with his brethren with Nyru. His life was a part of Vale’s now. Nothing was accomplished if he thought of Cairne. And a ghost from the past wouldn’t change a damn thing!
Calming himself, Kyros locked his fiery eyes on silver. “If you wish to hate me, believe I’m a monster, fine. There are many whose disgust and hatred I deserve. Whose family did die by my fangs. I’m well aware of what I’ve done. But, we are no longer in Cairne, nor do I have to remain trapped in the past. Vale is my home now.”
“Banished.” he echoed, unsure what to make of Kyros’ reaction. He wasn’t surprised no one had been told about it by his mother, who had driven him off violently. It was easier to just let it slip - no one was gonna miss a useless link in Caine’s chain of warriors anyway, which apparently was true.
A rush of fear rushed through him at Kyros’ snarl and one could see his body flinch a little, ready to defend himself if necessary. Not that he had any chance against a trained warlord, but not all defence involved fighting. “I suppose you’re much wiser then.” his hoarse voice concerned. “Following blind commands for years without having the guts to speak up, if you really condemned their doings so much.”
“Vale is my home now.”
Yes, it was. One more reason for Alarion to stay cautious of this pack. Could he really live in a place where Cairne's murdeous beta resided? He had to try. This was his only chance for survival at this rate, as his protruding hip bones proved clearly. “Don’t think you can fool me. You’re a demon, Kyros. And if you make one wrong move, I’ll make sure to let everyone know."
