Homecoming

[nightblood]

"We're not exactly on the best of terms at the moment. Nor were we ever, really."

A small chuckle escaped her muzzle. No need to tell her that. Umbra and Mortil were exact opposites. The only time they ever agreed on anything was when they had a common goal. Even then, it was hard to get them to agree on the best method to carry out the means.

"I don't dare lose control now, when Umbra could do anything. No. I will not. Never again."

"Good," she said seriously, staring him directly in the eyes. She did not ever want to have to decide wether or not to kill him again.

"I'm fine. For now, anyways. Now, tell me of what has happened since I left. You and your siblings have still be training, yes?"

"'course," she answered, nudging back, "Nothing of significance has happened, but the second litter has started their training. It's no surprise Kuruk pushes himself to the limit every day. Sometimes I worry that he might slip up and accidentally kill one of us."

"Only if you keep talking about me behind my back," came a cold voice.

"Kuruk..." Delerath answered in a warning growl.

Zuka turned her head, narrowing her eyes at the shadows that filled the light of the entrance. Six figures stood there. She didn't need scent to tell her who they were.

"Come in, boys."

"What's he doing here?"

"Thought he decided to run his own campaign," Sure'thim accused.

"Yeah. What business does the old traitor have here?" RogueBane snarled.

The six moved forward slowly, wary of what the gray wolf was capable of. They broke up and formed a circle around him. Delerath moved closer to Zuka, no doubt wanting a status report.

"The Alphas allowed him entry. He's injured, but not incapable of fighting. RavenShard gives him only months to live."

"No more than he deserves-"

"He didn't kill her, Kuruk."

"Didn't?" came Orem's surprised voice, eyes widening.

"Wasn't his intention from the get-go, was it? We jumped to conclusions," Khai put in.

"It seems so..."

Humbled, the new arrivals sat down. Delerath, Khai, Orem, Surethim, Kuruk, and RogueBane bowed their heads and pulled their ears back. After a moment, the silence was broken.

"So why were we called?"

[Electus]

"'course," she answered, nudging back, "Nothing of significance has happened, but the second litter has started their training. It's no surprise Kuruk pushes himself to the limit every day. Sometimes I worry that he might slip up and accidentally kill one of us."

Mortil nodded thoughtfully. Kuruk...no, that didn't surprise him at all. He was there when Nightblood died, after all.

"The Alphas allowed him entry. He's injured, but not incapable of fighting. RavenShard gives him only months to live."

"No more than he deserves-"

"He didn't kill her, Kuruk."

"Didn't?" came Orem's surprised voice, eyes widening.

"Wasn't his intention from the get-go, was it? We jumped to conclusions."

"It seems so..."

"So why were we called?"

Mortil moved to stand. As he rose, fresh blood trickled down his left leg, but he ignored it. The time to do what he had in mind was now, while he was still fit and in his prime fighting condition. "I wished it." he said, in a clear voice. A voice that expected absolute attention. Once more he was teacher, commander, and warrior. "War stands on our borders. I have harried the borders of Sallin, killed their sentries and guardians. Yet they have more." his eye narrowed. "And we are not yet strong enough."

"I am going to die. Plain and simple. But you can be damned sure that before I do, every single one of you before me is going to make Sallin scream."

Mortil moved towards the back wall of the den before turning and facing the seven future warriors before him. "I am a warrior! And my destiny is to fight and die on the battlefield."

"And which of you will pick up the banner when I fall?"

[nightblood]

"I wished it." he said, in a clear voice. A voice that expected absolute attention.

Even the defiant Kuruk sat at attention, his mother's fang necklace glistening through his fur. Fourteen eyes gazed at the gray warrior. Fourteen ears drank in every word.

"War stands on our borders. I have harried the borders of Sallin, killed their sentries and guardians. Yet they have more. And we are not yet strong enough."

That came as no surprise to the seven, especially Zuka. They were still young and inexperienced. They had only experienced one death in their lives, and another one was hanging in the air, threatening to crash at any moment.

"I am going to die. Plain and simple. But you can be damned sure that before I do, every single one of you before me is going to make Sallin scream."

A smile came to the faces of Kuruk and Zuka only. Every other pair of eyes narrowed in distain. They would kill, but they would not enjoy it. Not like those two.

"I am a warrior! And my destiny is to fight and die on the battlefield. And which of you will pick up the banner when I fall?"

Kuruk was the first to stand, followed swiftly by Zuka. The others rose in their turn. Orem hesitated, but stood at last. They would not let their home fall to the abomination that was Sallin.

[Electus]

One by one, the seven stood. Mortil smiled grimly. Now, to see them perform. Only then...only then would he see how much they had learned from him...and what they yet had to learn.

"I see. Then..."

The grey warrior, lowered his stance, hissing slightly. His wound twisted and squelched horribly, black tissue moving as Mortil readied himself. "While I still have my strength, I will fight and I will train you."

His golden eye glinted. "Come on then! All of you at once!"

[nightblood]

"I see. Then... While I still have my strength, I will fight and I will train you."

This time it was Zuka and Delerath who's eyes widened, but it was only Delerath who voiced his concerns.

"You can't! You're fatally injured! If you don't let that wound heal up, you're going to die quicker!"

"Don't question him. It won't do any good."

"Come on then! All of you at once!"

Immediately, the seven moved into the darkest shadows of NightBlood's den. Each one of them knew the dangers of open attacks. Arnlan would no doubt strike Sallin in the dead of night. Might as well start getting used to it.

[Electus]

Mortil watched as each of them melted into the shadows around him. "Very good..." he murmured to himself. His eye swiveled back and forth before closing.

"You can't! You're fatally injured! If you don't let that wound heal up, you're going to die quicker!"

"I know my limits, Delerath. I've had this wound from the time I left. I'll be fine for now."

"Remember...there is merit to attacking erratically. Strike not all at once, but in chaotic patterns. From the shadows, back to the shadows. Only the foolish strike all at once. If you do so, your numbers are revealed. We are Arnlan. We are limitless."

[nightblood]

"I know my limits, Delerath. I've had this wound from the time I left. I'll be fine for now."

'For now...' Delerath said to himself.

The gray warrior would not last as long as RavenShard had anticipated if he kept this up. He was bleeding profusely as it was. This made all but Sure'thim, Kuruk, and Orem hesitant to attack. Zuka would have taken advantage of the wound had it not been so lethal. Now, especially since the male had confessed his love to her, she didn't really know what to do. Khai, though not very fond of fighting, was still unsure of how he felt about this wolf. On one paw, he had returned and had granted Zuka's wish for a possible revenge. On the other paw, he had a perfectly good reason now to hate him. He had abandoned them when they could have been training to become stronger. Now he was little more than a scratching post. No. He would not hold back. He deserved this.

Delerath, as the eldest brother, could not allow himself to ignore a direct order. Morals were to be questioned later. For now, he shook off his self doubt and focused on the matter at hand. RogueBane was now the only one having doubts. He pinned himself to the corner, making himself small. However, he was hit roughly in the backside by a paw no bigger than his own. Kuruk, his littermate, was on his tail. The darker pup turned to face him, and was greeted by piercing green eyes glaring directly at his soul. He was going to fight or he was going to be hurt severely by his own brother.

Kuruk was not in the mood to deal with hesitant siblings. He would prove his strength. His honor would not be smeared by RogueBane. In truth, he was sure that if he didn't change his attitude soon, they would have to switch names. Because his brother was certainly not living up to his.

This left Orem. He was tired of being made to fight. Now that Mortil was weak, he was contemplating his death. Punishment would most certainly be exile. Then he would be able to leave this dark place in search for a more serene, quiet pack. He would miss his family, but he would no longer be held in the claws of the fate they wished for him. If the opportunity arose to 'accidentally' commit murder, he would take it. Mortil would die.

"Remember...there is merit to attacking erratically. Strike not all at once, but in chaotic patterns. From the shadows, back to the shadows. Only the foolish strike all at once. If you do so, your numbers are revealed. We are Arnlan. We are limitless."

"Your words are wasted," came Orem's frozen voice from deep inside the shadows.

Before his brother was done speaking, the smallest member of the seven lunged forward out of the darkness. He seemed to be aimed directly for Mortil's face. Fangs were bared as a sickly smile stretched across Kuruk's face, but this was merely for shock value. As soon as the gray wolf would move to block the blow or meet it head on, two things would happen simultaneously. Kuruk would turn, letting his weight bring him to the floor where he would land on his shoulder and slide under Mortil. Just before getting out of range, he'd aim his fangs to grip ahold of the warrior's hind leg. While Kuruk was still falling, Sure'thim would come as a golden blaze out of the shadows from Mortil's blind spot and attack his uninjured shoulder, hoping that the strain to protect himself would tear more at the would on his left shoulder.

[Electus]

"Your words are wasted," came Orem's frozen voice from deep inside the shadows.

Orem's words cut him deeper than the wound on his shoulder ever would. Mortil had thought long and hard about Orem. He was so gentle...not fit for the battlefield. He would have to have a talk with him, Zuka, and Kuruk after the short spar.

But for now, the grey warrior exhaled deeply before shutting his golden eye.

I am the wind.

I am the shadow.

No one will touch me, no one will mark me. Not ever again.

The warrior slid gracefully away from Kuruk. He suddenly heard the clatter of claws, the propelling of something heading at him. Mortil slid backwards, eye still closed.

[nightblood]

Kuruk stood up quickly once he realized he would miss. Growling in distain, he melted back into the shadows, letting Sure'thim take his turn. Mortil had stepped slightly into the attack, making it so that the golden male would miss his target, but only by a fraction. He was attacking from behind, on his blind side. His jaws would wrap around his shoulders if his attack was effective.

Only when Mortil began to respond to Sure'thim would Delerath move in. He would go for the gray wolf's throat, pushing him over onto his wounded side so that he would give up quickly. If either attack was ineffective, Orem would attack from behind and land on the warrior's back, using his weight to bring him down.

RogueBane still could not bring himself to attack. He had moved behind a rock and was crouching down. Once again, Kuruk had found him. His green eyes seemed to be growling on their own. They pierced him so deeply that RogueBane could imagine his words in his head.

'You will fight.'

'I don't want to...'

The green eyes narrowed.

'Fight or die.'

[Akree]

When the sound came to my ears I silently cursed. Zuka’s howl came from quite the distance away; it was merely an echo now, being shaken lightly by the trees, bouncing around the forest until reaching my ears. Before this I had my eyes trained at a rabbit, thinking about brining the pack fresh kill, all in all, I was simply passing the time. But now, my sister was calling on to me and with a final sigh I simply raised myself from my crouched position and turned one longing glance at the gray ball of fur that bolted away towards the shadows of Arnlarn. Zuka owed me dinner; I hope she was well aware of the fact. My ears swiveled around my head until I identified where the sound came from, mother’s den. Soon I found my paws flying across the familiar terrain, muffled thuds on the ground.

As I ran I noticed a familiar ripple of fur on the corner of my eyes, a turn of my head confirmed my thoughts, Dakarai was behind me, running like a haphazard mutt, you would think that after a few months he would learn to keep his balance on those four paws of his, but he resembled a cross between a fish out of water and a beaten up old crow. His paws scrambled against the ground in the matter of an exhausted squirrel. He gave me a look of sheer confusion which almost made me stop dead on my paws, my step faltered and he took the distraction to catch up with me, the look he offered was one that clearly said “Any idea what’s going on?” I just shook my head and I could feel him slump against his paws. He was way to easily let down, Daki should try loosening up, everything was such a tragedy for him since mother died.

We slowed out steps as we neared the location, my eyes scanned the perimeter out of simple habit, I positioned my paw steps more carefully, and making sure they were as completely inaudible as physically possible, besides me Dakarai copied the position, even lowering his head in that shy manner of his. My ears snapped forward trying to catch the gist of the conversation, but the voices were low and we were still a little too far to make out anything unless it was yelled out.

"So why were we called?" came Delerath’s familiar voice, at least that’s what I thought he said as we crawled closer to the spot. I couldn’t be exactly sure and I turned to look at Dakarai which in turn shook his head sadly, he couldn’t hear well either, oh well. I decided to give up on listening in until we got closer. "And which of you will pick up the banner when I fall?" came’s Mortil clear voice. I didn’t like what I was hearing, sounded like a declaration of war, the final statement of a mad wolf. In fact, I didn’t even recall being told that Mortil was back. Feelings slammed into me suddenly, I wasn’t sure what they were, sorting them out I figured they were a mix between anger, relief, pity and something like sadness. I didn’t know in which to act so I simple decided to follow my head, much more reasonable than acting on a simple feeling.

"Come on then! All of you at once!" came Mortil’s voice yet again and I figured either I would me puzzled by what I would see or be enraged, if figured I would cross that bridge when I got there, besides me I felt Dakarai’s fur bristle in alarm and a soft ‘huh?’ escape his maw. "You can't! You're fatally injured! If you don't let that wound heal up, you're going to die quicker!" I heard Delerath say, again I felt Dakarai bristle uncomfortably and push forward faster. Curiosity killed the cat, Dakarai. "Don't question him. It won't do any good." replied Zuka. By now I could see a faint light filtering from the clearing, just a little closer and I would be able to see what was there, both Dakarai and I had dropped to a hunting crouch, making our way slowly forward.

My blue eyes trained on the current events just as Kuruk flashed from the shadows and bolted towards Mortil. Immediately I saw the technical mistake at this, Mortil was used to fighting he wouldn’t be tricked easily. If it were up to me, I would have done it differently. Mortil was expecting an attack right at this moment, first I would make him wait, know that an attack was coming but not knowing when or from where they would strike, it was simple, he would have to nervously wait and even a warrior as trained as himself would find himself not only on high alert, but we would have some kind of surprise element even though he knew we were there. Then Kuruk could have bolted forward, drawing the warrior’s distraction towards the smaller wolf, just then I would have someone bigger, like Delerath or Zuka surge forward, the difference between the smaller wolf and the bigger one would have Mortil keeping his full attention at the two, if everything would go according to plan he would consider the bigger wolf the true opponent, than have a faster wolf strike at that wound on his back. Ah, but even as I watched, from my vantage point I could identify Sure’thim preparing himself to strike. But they were only two, Mortil would easily, just like now, move away from Kuruk than simply move again to evade Sure’thim. The trick was to keep the attack’s constant, we were more than one, each could just attempt a team strike, varying the skills, speed and strength so a pattern wouldn’t form and attempt to strike, always keeping a careful eye on Mortil’s movement, if they marked true of failed of mark, merge to the shadows and just as quickly have another member strike, even Mortil wouldn’t be able to keep with the constant dodging, his wound would tire him quicker, and if we spread out around the border of the clearing, always maintaining constant movement so the attacks would be unpredictable they could almost very easily bring down Mortil. It was a matter of technique, quite simple if you look at it one way. But I could tell this attack was not even thought of being planned, they just surged forward whoever was angrier would strike, this wouldn’t do at all.

Dakarai seemed to catch my carefully calculating expression, but would not agree with such thoughts, he wasn’t a fighter.

((Sorry for the first person thing o:))

[Electus]

Mortil frowned as he stepped, the battle meditation demanding almost all his concentration. The tempo was wrong, the dance was erratic and abrupt. Their attacks...they struck at him in a pattern, it wasn't right. It should have been much more...erratic.

"Enough." he said, skittering to a halt. Nonetheless, he maintained his meditation, waiting to see if any would dare attack after he had called a stop to the session.

"Right. Kuruk...Zuka...Orem. Come with me. I would like to speak with you each. Privately."

The grey warrior opened his eye. Not far off he saw Khenti and Dakarai. He looked solemnly at the pair. Khenti was destined for great things, no matter what he did. But Mortil hoped that he would lead after the grey warrior was gone.

"The rest of you, go ask Khenti what you did wrong. I'm sure he can enlighten you on the finer points of Arnlanian tactics."

He looked at the three younglings he had addressed again. "Kuruk, come. I have a new technique for you. Zuka, Orem, you too. Especially you, Orem. There are a few things we must discuss."

[nightblood]

"Enough."

Sure'thim stopped just before he bit down on his shoulder, mouth hanging open in a snarl as if a photograph had been taken at that exact moment. He growled angrily, eyes moving to glare at Mortil's muzzle, making sure he wasn't going to turn when he had obeyed an order. Unsure of his motives, he jumped backward, clear of the gray warrior's attacks.

"Right. Kuruk...Zuka...Orem. Come with me. I would like to speak with you each. Privately. The rest of you, go ask Khenti what you did wrong. I'm sure he can enlighten you on the finer points of Arnlanian tactics."

"Hmph," came Sure'thim's answer and he moved toward the mouth of the cave.

'He just doesn't want an ass beating,' he growled to himself. Without stopping to even look at his younger brothers, he trotted off into the shadows of the territory. He was tired of being underestimated and yelled at. He no longer wished to associate with this group. It was high time he searched for a den for himself, or maybe something more. Sure'thim was not the only one who felt disconnected from the group. Khai left in a hurry too, but in a different direction. It seemed that he was headed toward RavenShard's den, though he had emerged uninjured from the 'fight'.

Delerath picked up RogueBane by the scruff of his neck and stepped outside as well. His face was grim. He had grown tired of fighting. However, as the eldest, he had to teach by example. He must continue obeying Mortil's orders. Setting his younger brother on the ground, he turned to Khenti and sat down, waiting for an evaluation of his fighting style.

"Kuruk, come. I have a new technique for you. Zuka, Orem, you too. Especially you, Orem. There are a few things we must discuss."

"New technique?" the pup asked excitedly as he stepped forward, wagging his tail.

Orem simply growled in the corner of the cave. He had not been able to attack the warrior. Had he gotten the chance, he would have ripped open that wound and let him bleed out. Zuka stepped forward, draping Kuruk in a shadow.

"What's this about?"

[Electus]

"New technique?" the pup asked excitedly as he stepped forward, wagging his tail.

"What's this about?"

Mortil looked down at the both of them before speaking. "In a moment, you two. Orem!"

The grey warrior swiveled his head at the snarling ball of fur in the corner of the den. "Shade's blood, Orem! I've had quite enough of that. By the gods, you can tear my throat out for all I care, but you damn well get over here. NOW!" he barked. He had never been this short with any of them before, but then again, circumstances had changed. Since his days were numbered, the internal danger of Umbra was neutralized. Sallin still loomed over them like a deathly shadow, but there was still time. There was no need for all of them to be warriors if only a few of them would be good at it.

Mortil swiveled back to face Zuka and Kuruk. "Right then. Several things. Kuruk, Zuka, I want you two to come live with me in my den. There are things I must teach you and show you and I haven't the time or strength to keep traveling around anymore. Second...this technique, Kuruk, has been taught only to Zuka. But I've decided that it would serve you well too."

The ash-grey wolf passed a paw wearily over his eye. "Just promise me you won't let it go to your head and do something stupid. I really can't deal with that right now."

He looked towards Orem again and sighed. "Orem...what am I going to do with you? You are so similar...yet so different."

Mortil suddenly looked at Zuka again. "Ah, I know. Zuka, have you met a black wolf with aquamarine lines running across his body? I saw him the day I left. What has become of him?"

[Akree]

"Enough."

Mortil’s voice bounced back from the trees for all to hear his command, it was clear and rung in my ears faintly, I figured I should straightened out, just in time to meet the warrior’s solemn gaze. What was he thinking about? I wondered shortly before deciding it didn’t matter, if it was something of importance he would tell me sooner or later. Dakarai rose besides me, looking around for his brothers, for a while nothing else moved. Then Mortil spoke again, demanding Kuruk, Zuka and Orem. I simple stepped away from the shadows and sat down, Dakarai, however eyed everything with his normal nervousness, his nose wrinkling every now and then as he watched each of his brothers move from the shadows, I could tell he hadn’t liked the past ordeal at all and was still wary of what other act of violence they could get in.

"The rest of you, go ask Khenti what you did wrong. I'm sure he can enlighten you on the finer points of Arnlanian tactics." Mortil said.

I sighed, if I knew my brothers well enough none of them would listen to the ash gray warrior and simply go their way, with any luck someone would stay to enlighten me on why the fight had started in the first place and what was the situation with Mortil and Sallin. I just hoped there was some good news, else I might as well take a nice relaxing nap, I didn’t want to listen to any bad news however necessary, I had enough to deal with already, in my opinion. Just as I thought I could see a ball of tan-orange fur go his way, stubbornly like someone had just slapped him in the face and attempted to take every last bit of his dignity, he was simply trying to be his own arrogant self. As sad as the thought was, if this war was as bad as they said, Sure’thim would die and stupid death because his arrogance was bigger than his brain, it would pain me to see that little guy go down like that, but it was just a matter of time…

“Vhat did t’ey do vrong?” came Dakarai’s whispery voice besides me. I turned my head towards him and caught sight of Delerath approaching with RogueBane clinging from his jaws. I nodded my greeting towards him and figured that I wasn’t about to get my update of the situation directly from Mortil, what a pain. Although Delerath could be just as specific, but I preferred to hear someone talk with their own voice, I should have hurried a bit more. Nothing to do about that now, of course, I turned to Delerath with a sigh. “Patterns…”

[/color] I said, simply “Your attacks were to predictable, you needed to vary more, make yourself unpredictable…”[/color] I shook my head, not really in the mood to explain all my observations, but I guess it was a necessity, no matter how much I thought this would bore poor old RogueBlood and hell, it might even bore Delerath, he was simply here because Mortil ordered. “It was to chaotic in its own way, any warrior could have defeated the lot of you once he figured out the pattern, or was smart enough for it…”[/b] Dakarai nodded once, a bit to enthusiastically to be actually paying attention, I sighed, a look of confusion crossed his face before he turned to Delerath.

“How bad is it?” I heard him ask, probably referring to Mortil’s wound, in a way I was relieved he asked, I wasn’t sure myself of the answer. From first glace it didn’t look that bad, but as I watched the fight I noticed it was much worse when look at closely, much worse and who knew how bad it truly was.[/blockquote]

[nightblood]

"In a moment, you two. Orem! Shade's blood, Orem! I've had quite enough of that. By the gods, you can tear my throat out for all I care, but you damn well get over here. NOW!"

Orem ceased his growling and stood up. There was a darkness in his eyes that had never been there before. He stared heartlessly at Mortil, willing the gray wolf to die where he stood. Unsuccessful, he made his way slowly over to where the three were standing.

"Right then. Several things. Kuruk, Zuka, I want you two to come live with me in my den. There are things I must teach you and show you and I haven't the time or strength to keep traveling around anymore. Second...this technique, Kuruk, has been taught only to Zuka. But I've decided that it would serve you well too. Just promise me you won't let it go to your head and do something stupid. I really can't deal with that right now."

"No problem," Kuruk said wryly as he grinned.

Zuka looked down at the pup. It was highly likely that he would allow it to go to his head. She only hoped that the pup would understand that it was to be used in battle, not to show off.

"Orem...what am I going to do with you? You are so similar...yet so different."

"Be glad that you're already dying, Mortil," came his cold answer, "I tire of being used as a shield for this pack. When the war is over and you're dead, I'm leaving."

Zuka rolled her eyes. She seriously doubted her brother's threat. However, this time it seemed like he meant it. She kept her concerns to herself, though. Perhaps she would be able to talk to him later.

"Ah, I know. Zuka, have you met a black wolf with aquamarine lines running across his body? I saw him the day I left. What has become of him?"

"Otame? I dunno. Havn't seen him since the screams stopped."

“Patterns… Your attacks were to predictable, you needed to vary more, make yourself unpredictable… It was to chaotic in its own way, any warrior could have defeated the lot of you once he figured out the pattern, or was smart enough for it…”

Delerath blinked slowly. His expressionless face was cause for worry to his younger brother.

"If that's all..." he said dryly. He then turned and picked up RogueBane once more and headed off to their mother's old den.