Lyckos

He had to leave that place of death and loss and suffering. Memories clasped at that den like a bad smell, refusing to give him a moment’s peace. He could not be there any longer, not if he was to be a fit leader for the pack that was slowly falling around him. It wasn’t fair on them, just as it wasn’t fair on him; selfish maybe, but he could barely think straight. It couldn’t be happening, not to him. Lyckos had endured so much, so much death of those he loved. It was a torture of the soul that he could only stand so much of, it was tearing him apart with every second. Taros, the father who had taught him everything, been the leader Lyckos had drawn inspiration from, was gone. Why had the Nuova Alba attack them unprovoked, and killed the elder of the group, and one of its youngsters. Neither posed any real threat to them.

The scent that clung to the group that had come back smelled faintly like that of the Haunters. A breakaway group, maybe? That would explain it. Perhaps a group that still supported the old ways of the Haunters, that weren’t prepared for change...that were unhappy with the alliance with the Lurkers. It all made sense, and as he walked and thought, it ever so slightly eased his mind from the burden of the pain that came with the death of family. His thoughts became consumed with thoughts of their new enemies and how to enact revenge on them. Until he realised there was no ‘we’, he had abandoned his old pack, he was a loner. It killed him inside to think he’d left them, but that pain was dulled by that of all the deaths he’d witnessed. Still, it would not stop him seeking revenge for all the hurt they had caused.

The further he got from the alleys, the more his brain worked over everything that had happened, the angrier he became. The rage flooded him, clouding his mind, but he could not outwardly display the fire that burned within him. Instead, he appeared as cold as ice. As he moved over the old bridge, Lyckos looked over the lights of east of the city, illuminated in the dark of the night. He could just pick out the twisted network of alleys that was his home...or at least used to be his home. Sighing, and realising this night was to be the longest in his life, the old alpha of the Shadow Lurkers sat down near the edge of the bridge, and simply watched the eastern part of the city. The cold wind had already begun to strip him of the scent of his former pack, and as it bit at him and made him feel the pain that ate at him inside, he slowly began to let go. There was nothing else he could do for them now, while he fell apart silently, away from prying eyes.

Hydras

Manipulated and twisted into a pawn for the Haunters, Hydras had been subsequently disregarded and abandoned when her puppeteers hollowed out a new home for themselves in the Basin. The little deer Quil, still under the servitude of Velvet, continued to keep a close companionship with Hydras, but it was hardly the sort of company that the aging wolfdog craved. Day in and day out, her mind played tricks with her, confusing her desire to be with the Lurkers with the strong, ingrained rational that they were her enemies and thus they were to be loathed. Things became even more confusing for Hydras when the Haunters refused to take her, and Velvet and Tumult scarcely acknowledged her. The once magnificent queen had lost her way in the world, and was little more than a lonely cur eeking an existence on the outskirts of the city.

Quilikahm was not with her tonight. For the past two days in fact, Hydras had been on her own, keeping close to the banks of the river that would in a few week's time begin to freeze over. And because the waters were rather brisk and turbulent today, the tri-colored hybrid sought out the bridge to cross over tonight, to keep her paws dry, and... Who's that? Her body froze and her mind whirled for a moment or two, having trouble for a second trying to correctly pin a name on the face that looked so familiar to her. "Lyckos?" The whisper came out as a partial growl, and she strove quickly to erase the surprise in her eyes and build up a formidable glare and bristled ruff.

Lyckos

The noise of the cold wind dampened any sound of her approach, but he could smell that familiar scent in the air. When she spoke to him, only an ear turned to acknowledge that he had even heard her. It was a moment or two before he could summon the willpower to actually turn his head. She looked thinner, abandoned...lonely. Even now, after so many months apart, he could not help the tug of affection and longing that pulled at his heart at the sight of her, or the pain that ripped through him, at seeing her so aggressive and unfamiliar to him, and so terribly alone.

"Lazjig," he said quietly, his voice soft and laced with trauma and hurt. Not necessarily at her plight, although it did not help, but more at the losses he had endured, today and all days past. There was no growling or bristling in return, just a cool distance that should have told her right from the off that her goading would get no rise from him. This, after all, was not his Hydras, and so he did not expect her to understand just how he was feeling. Turning his head back to look out over the eastern part of the city, he addressed her once more, his voice monotonous, almost sighing; he was too emotionally exhausted for a fight tonight.

"You look tired."

Hydras

False memories and malicious lies had fed her for the past two years, filling the empty void where the fond thoughts and emotions of her real family should have been, and because of this, she still saw Lyckos only as a threat and one that would play her as a pawn if she allowed herself to get close to him. What caught her off guard was his utter lack of aggression after she'd growled his name and been so quick to get defensive at the mere sight of him. Shouldn't he be bristling too, and hurling threats her way?

The pain in his voice threw her further off guard, so that her expression faltered and she blinked in surprise back at the forlorn looking beast several paces away from her. 'He looks lonely, hurt-No! He deserves the same pain as I have to endure. He's the enemy. If not for him, the others would have accepted me into their pack, as their Queen...' The grandeur of living in such a powerful pack as the Shadow Haunters had been such a lofty prize that the aging hybrid had looked forward to, only to have it snatched away from her because others despised her previous place with Lurkers. She used that hurt to push Lyckos further from her heart, when that deep-seeded part of her was subtly aching to have him near again. "I could say the same about you." Her eyes narrowed anew. Her voice was cold and her fangs bared faintly when she spoke, trying to get an similar response out of him, if only because something about Lyckos' demeanor struck her as... could she dare say, pitiful? And that pity made her uncomfortable, because he was suppose to be the enemy, and she should have no mercy in her heart for an enemy.

Lyckos

He remained sat facing away from her, but one ear swivelled round to pick up what she said. It made him bark out a soft humourless laugh, as he dipped his muzzle a little in agreement. There was a brief moment of silence, before he decided to speak. She obviously cared enough to stop and speak with him, so perhaps she'd care just a little to hear about the pack she had once loved so dearly, and just why he was so weary.

"Some of my pack were ambushed today while out hunting, by a breakaway group of the pack you sought to lead. My father and my nephew were killed, my mother severely injured, and the whole group was shaken. I am thankful that at least some of them made it home. This is the look of someone who cannot watch his pack mates fall around him, and be helpless to do anything about it, any longer." There was a strong determination in his words, almost as if he was convincing himself of something, but still that hurt lingered faintly in the back of his throat.

"I have left them to recover and rebuild without me. I am a reminder of everything in these past years that has happened, and most of that time has been full of trials and tragedy. I imagine one of our-...my offspring will take up the title. They need to reaffirm their bonds with each other, and I was the weak link in the chain." It was almost like he was thinking aloud rather than talking to her; still trying to convince himself what he had done was the right course of action. A weak leader is worse than an inexperienced one. An inexperienced leader can learn from their mistakes, a weak leader refuses to.

He could sense she was trying to goad him into locking tempers with her, but even if he had wanted to he could not summon that kind of emotional energy. His passions were depleted to their lowest levels. He stood then, turning to look at her, but he held himself like he would if meeting a stranger, with no threats, just cool indifference.

"I know you won't want to hear any of this. You'll just think that my pack deserve what they got and that I'm a fool for leaving them. You just don't understand anymore. You don't see what I see: their faces, so desperately looking to me for answers I don't have, for comfort. I used to be able to tell them what they needed, but now I can't; I don't even know myself." He paused, glancing back briefly in the direction of the alleys, "You would have known what to do. You always did."

He sighed then, sparing her one more glance before he began to walk in the direction she'd just come from, his head held level with his shoulders, no longer the posture of an alpha, but of a broken loner. He looked older, worn-down, there was no spark in his hazel eyes, and a few grey hairs in the fur around his muzzle. He gave her a wide berth (he knew she viewed him as an enemy, and deep down she was still Hydras with her spitfire personality and fierce jaws) and walked slowly, with no true destination. He figured he would keep walking until he grew tired enough to stop to rest as he had done so many times before the day he had stumbled into the alleys and met Hydras for the first time. In a full circle, he was back to how he used to be, and it was a bitter pill to swallow.

Hydras

This was far from what Hydras had expected to hear from the brute. She wanted snarls and insults, anything that would justify her own puffing up and aggression towards him, but all she got were the words from a broken leader who was worn and wearied of the the world and the great hardships it had placed on him. That unsettled feeling in her grew, and she narrowed her eyes further as she tried to stamp that anxiety out of her.

Pride wanted to well up when she heard that his pack had been ambushed, and by the pack that she had been part of... or had she? Tumult and Velvet had been her companions, telling her she was a part of something great, a part of a grand fellowship of animals meant to rule the Valley, yet she was not. Tumult had disappeared, the Shadow Haunters hated her, and the Nuova Alba wanted nothing to do with her. She was alone, and that notion of pride that tried to sprout up withered and died with this realization, leaving her feeling bitter and empty once again. "The great and almighty Lyckos has abandoned his post, has he?" Hydras tried again to rile him with her sneering words, desperate to make sense of the conflicting feelings in her. However, the more she insulted him and the more he shrugged off these transgressions, the more uncertain she became. Something about this... didn't feel right to her anymore, not the way it did when she had Tumult and Velvet to whisper in her ear and tell her she was doing right.

'You would have known what to do. You always did.' Hydras couldn't explain why these words hit her so hard. It surprised her enough that she stared at him for a long moment, with wicked fangs no longer bared. She might have let him pass without any further harassment, and would have to... if not for a sudden question that burst from her throat before she could really think twice about what she was saying. "And what are you going to do with yourself now?" It came out in a slightly condescending way, but the fact that it came out at all suggested there was something buried deep in her clouded mind that was faintly attached to the fallen King of the Lurkers.