The Pack is Restless

[Tristan]

A toothy smile burst forth. "Yes, I would like that," he said. A whistle summoned Brenna to his side, to whom he dropped a snack for her growing belly, and hitched his bag upon his shoulders. 

They walked quietly for some distance with not but the sounds of forest and their paths. Brenna's caution waned as she explored Never's paws and long, fluffy tail. The puppy seemed unconcerned that the wolf would find it a lower-creature. Tristan sternly recalled Thorn Paw's disdain for dogs. Did Never share the scorn? 

Finally, while he watched the rippling motions of Never as she nosed paths ahead of them, he looked down upon Sierra. Tristan was quite a bit taller than the petite woman. He felt like a hulking monster in comparison. "I come from a land without wolves. I knew them only in dreams. Never is the first one I have ever beheld with my waking eyes." A creature he watched with rapt fascination..

[Sierra]

The hike to the pack was going to be longer now that they'd gone the opposite direction to begin with. They had walked in silence for much of it. But it wasn't exactly quiet either, Never was pushing images left and right, he was excited to talk and Sierra had tried to keep him from bugging Tristan, but Never never did listen.

Tristan's statement made her smile. "I remember seeing my first wolf. I remember seeing my first human other than my parents. My parents were doomsdayers and I grew up from a young age in a steel bunker below the earth until the apocolypse was sufficently over and then my father ventured to the surface. It was yeas before I was actuallly allowed to leave the bunker."

Sierra added, "The other wolves won't talk so fast and they might treat you like a child even though you are a very grown man." She smile but there was a light blush to her skin. It was different with Elyse, this was different than Calvin too.

They walked into the forest, it was still a bit farther, but Sierra could hear the wolves. The buzz of the strange things that had happened was whispered through the trees. "Do you hear the wolves speaking?"

[Tristan]

He was accustomed to being treated like a child. His smile disarmed her of fear for any offense. She had seemed to grow nervous a few moments before, pink kissing her cheeks. In the stale air of the north, she was lovely as a wildflower and he wondered at the identity of her True Name.

She spoke words he did not quite comprehend, but the story shaped enough of an image to form ideas. "You were imprisoned by your parents?" he asked. A sense of abject horror gripped the seat of his spine. He touched her on the arm to halt their steps, as though he might try to rip the chains then and there. "There is no worse fate. I am very sorry you had to endure that," he said, searching her eyes for wounds sure to be veiled. "Where are they now?" a should share in their daughter's plight.

His gaze was inevitably drawn toward the west, but not by the words of their four-legged friends, but by the shrill voice of his uncle haunting his memory. "I imprisoned someone too, though it was not my intention. His fate was pre-destined, I believe." The image of a black, twisted column stuck in his mind like an onyx shard, but one that rippled and moved, watching and wary. Fury and hate trapped were caged within. Would Sierra and Never recognize the fingerprint of a Trollstone?

[Sierra]

Sierra blinked at him. Imprisioned? She hadn't thought of it quite that way. "They were my parents. We all lived there for years, and my father didn't want us to die." Sierra shrugged. "People aren't really my thing. I feel so much more at home out here than I did in Madrid in the bunker with my parents. I think they are still there, probably locked themselves away after Aaron died and I left."

There was a sorrowful note in Tristan's worked and Sierra put her hand on his arm to comfort him. "The wolves have a lot of those moments I think. But it's never easy when things happen you didn't intended." Sierra was reminded of losing Snow. It hadn't been Calvin's intention to get Snow killed, he had been angry and he had every right to go after them, but he hadn't though beyond self - the pack was more important. But here Sierra was away from her pack - more self involved.

Never came up to her and pressed his head against her leg. "It's alright Never. We are okay. Sad thoughts aren't always bad." But he was pressing an image at her which made her curious. Tristan was still learning. She grinned at the man in front of her. "Never says you have an image of a black twisted column you are trying to show me. I can't see messages from you. We mere humans have to use our words to communicate. What is it?" She asked. "It looks almost terrifying."

[Tristan]

Her hand gave him pause. The wolf padded near, nuzzling Sierra lovingly. Meanwhile, Brenna stuck her nose under a bush and only her back-end stuck out. She was clearly investigating nefarious and bewildering scents of something: rodents, probably. Sierra and the wolf had a similar relationship, though. One of companionship that stuck Tristan deep. The sensation was odd, and he wasn't sure what to call it, but he was fascinated by their interaction. Thorn Paw was nothing like this, but the old wolf was hardly a half-grown pup like Never.

The black pillar twisted in his minds' eye. She couldn't see the image, but Never relayed the sensation onward like a telepathic conduit. Interesting idea, Tristan thought, using the wolves to convey messages to the two-legged members of packs around the world. Maybe even from pack to pack if one could ride the crashing waves along the way.

His gaze distanced itself, then, as he hurled his own howling thoughts to the wind. Miles away, a wolf lifted its head to his call, but the song soared farther, stretching like the wings of hawks diving above mountainpeaks. Far beyond that, an echo of recognition returned. Then another and another. The whites of his eyes rolled slightly, unbeknownst to him, the gold lidded dark. Warm air tickled his fur, his nose lifted high on the wind. Though, they weren't his noses and the fur wasn't his to ripple, yet he saw a different landscape than the plush green of Norway. Wherever he was, it was hot and dirty. The trees scrubby with twigs snapping beneath his heavy paws.

A dark den burrows underground; a den of metal. Two-legs hide there in dark cages. A female and male, paired with young ones. They caged a wolfsister: young pups trapped in cages whimpering and alone. They must be punished. Kill them, brother. Rip throats and howl warning to others.

His face met that of another pair of golden eyes. A wolf that sniffed angrily, bared its teeth ever so slightly, its hot breath on his cheeks. Tristan's will exerted stronger, sharing the fury and hate of their action, beckoning the wolf to strike them down. The twisted stone pillar loomed like the shadow of a mountain peak.

The snap of teeth hurled him backward. The echo of thought returned, and Tristan's mind slammed to his body. He'd gone to one knee during the communication with the distant pack, farther than he ever knew possible. Jaw clenched, teeth bared like the jaws of the wolf were his own too hard to dissect his own emotions from that of the wolves.

He fell back to sit on the ground, but his breath was steady and calm. Gold eyes flashed bright and aware again, fully present with Sierra, Never and Brenna. The dog was completely ignorant of what just transpired. "I think I just spoke with a pack in Spain." He looked up at Sierra. Even sitting on cool mosses, she was so short there wasn't far to stretch his neck.

"The pillar you see is dangerous. It is the frozen cage of a troll. I put him there. I will cage them all. Anyone who tries to trap our kind. I will do to them as they did to me." Most people think they are stories, like the Hidden Folk. "Fairies, elves and trolls are not things of legend. They exist. I was raised by one."

[Sierra]

Tristan fell to one knee, his teeth clenched, Sierra might have taken a step back if she hadn't known what he was, the wolves were not afraid of him. Never wasn't afraid, but growling along with him. She let whatever was happen, and when Tristan came out of it he ssaid the strangest thing. "Why?" Her mind circled and her hand covered her mouth. "What did you tell them to do?" Sierra's voice was quiet, no trace of anger. Concern colored her voice.

He spoke of fairies and elves and trolls, Tristan said he was raised by fairy tales. But she wanted to know what he had done. How he'd done it. She was torn between running home and getting answers but she stood staring at the man on a knee before her. Her heart raced and all color had drained from her face. She knew the answer. But she wanted to hear it from him.

[[ Sidebar - Alone ]]

[Tristan]

When he rose to his feet, it was to grasp Sierra by the hand and peer deep into her eyes. His own sharp, golden rims made out bronzed flecks flickering in her own. He never stopped to realize just how lovely they were, but beyond the fear that widened them, he saw someone else. Hidden deep within was a frightened, terrified girl yearning to snap the chains holding her hostage. In their reflection he saw himself standing over, a pillar of strength, not of terror trapped within the twisted trollstone. 

"Wolves must roam free." He gripped her hand, "I don't know why we are the way we are, but I know what we are not." His jaw rippled with defiant clenching, but his scent was one of steadfast acceptance, of nostrils flared and roots delving deep into the soil. "We are not meant to be caged. The wolves know. You know." 

[Sierra]

Sierra knew he was right, but that didn't explain things. Specifically what he did. "I know. I understand, but what did you tell the wolves in Spain, Tristan." Sierra felt the wave of anger from Never, but it wasn't directed at Tristan, he'd seen what the man had sent, but Never would not share, he didn't understand her human words, and she wanted Tristan to tell her.

He stood gazing into her eyes seeing whatever he saw and she tried not to feel the terror inside. He'd done something bad - it wasn't that she felt anger at him, but she was afraid - for her family. What had he done. She pleaded again putting her hands on his arms and feeling the strength in him. He was pack, he was much more than that, but she didn't know how to process it. It wasn't a human thing. "Please, Tristan what did you do?"

[Tristan]

Sierra claimed to understand, but she was too near to the trauma. “It’s okay, Sierra. I hate my uncle for what he did, but I love him also because he was my uncle. The Hidden Ones, fairies, revealed to me his lies, and when I confronted him, he confessed to the whole thing. The sun took its vengeance and he is punished eternally now,” he said. The words panged, twisted as Úlfar’s Trollstone grave.

He went on. “I do not command the wolves. At least, I do not think so. I merely showed them the truth as the Hidden Ones revealed it to me. They protect pack. We all protect pack. I understand that now.” The words paused, tongue rolling in his mouth just before he spit a wad of saliva tinged pink to the forest floor. His cheek ached like he’d bit it unknowingly.

“I do not know what they will do, but the taste of blood tinges my teeth, and I finally understand what Thorn Paw meant.” He tried to grasp her hands, hoping that she likewise grasped his words. “It is us against the world. The wolves, us, and them. I will not let anything happen to you again,” he said.

[Sierra]

There was little reaction from Siera. She stood staring blankly at him. There were moments of truth and moments of fancy. She wasn't sure Tristan was all together there, but he made a promise, a promise no one else had ever made. Not since her father, the very man Sierra knew Tristan had condemned to death because he thought he knew better. Knew the world and the way of life.

But what did Sierra know of the world? She herself hadn't been in it any longer than Tristan. He was new to the wolves. She felt that - a pup still learning his power. There was anger at what he'd done. But it was done and there was nothing she could do about it. Much like her father now, she had no control of what the things other men did on her behalf. But that wasn't the way of the wolves either. You either played your part of you were left behind. And not being part of the pack was not something Sierra wanted.

Sierra stood up taller though she was still small compared to Tristan. "Fine, Tristan." The anger tinged her voice, but she took a deep breath, closed her eyes and centered herself. And in a calmer voice spoke clearly. "I have one thing to ask of you. Tonight in the dream you will show me one of these fairies, I don't care if it's a real one or a memory of one but I want to see what tells you these truths."