Welcome to the Black Parade [Exile Samael]

With a jolt, the eyes of the broken answered as they were soon unveiled and re-veiled from the blinding light that cast upon his tired face. Pins and needles crawled at his limbs, slightly paralyzing him in place as he lay against the ridden floors of his freshly made resting quarters. The shelter was suitable, reasonably high as well as wide, enough for him, enough for the time he'd be stuck in this wasteland. Pivoting his four paws at different paces as he stayed aloft his spot, the pain within his bones soon deceased and blood then regained surface to restore its throne, providing him comfort at last once more. The damned lay his face back against the floor, having stirred earlier by a stress induced nightmare - he noticed a pattern forming in his daily routines, how much of a habit he had earned in having such dreams lately. Even his emotions were taking a larger toll. Ever since the fall, the apprentice could not replace such a memory as much as he wished to try; his young mind was not powerful enough for such things just yet. Hopefully, through maturity that'll fade and he'll be able to forgive and forget about what happened. Until then, he'd go through Hell, being startled awake by the simplest of movements outside his den and the darkness that tended to fill his mind.

Deprived of both sleep and hunger, he restlessly found himself begin to rise from his spot and free the debris which had ridden his auburn, dark ash coat. A low sigh blew from his mouth as he suddenly realized how sore he was, even after a few weeks of recovery and the tons of herbs he had digested within that time, too. Luckily, before climbing into his den he managed a nice bath in the stream, fortunate enough for him to not slip and break another bone in his body, that is. Though, despite his attempts to cover up the visible damage and brokenness within his dark blue eyes, he couldn't be helped. It had appeared as if he had been abused since the day he could breathe, attacked by an animal with no purpose, or single-handedly been tossed in too many fights. It made him appear strong, but internally, he could feel the toll it had placed in him that recovery would be slower than what he had expected. The drop was just too large - he should've died, but didn't, and as much as he wished to think dodging death was a wonderful achievement, he had a feeling it would turn on him later.

The brute had set out that late afternoon in search for tansy, a delectable yellow flower to what he'd need to sooth his aching joints and bones; perhaps even give him some rest. If not, he'd simply steal some thyme from the mending station's inventory for a good night's sleep - he'd need to be strong and awake the next morning if he wanted to resume training daily routines. He'd need to work up more bulk in his diet, if not, he'd grow thin and weak, a wolf he didn't quite want to be when another year would wedge around the corner. Not long after walking passed Agavos lines did he understand that he was traveling a lot further than planned, leading passed his expectations of how much he had gained despite his injuries. Climbing had become much less of an obstacle now, thankfully, for he found himself leaping here and there, minor jumps, to get to a rather comforting spot among the cliffs. The height made him stiffen, but he carried on quietly, keeping a well trained attention on the edges so that the past did not repeat itself. The brute fetched a healthy hare to dine on, filling his belly to a reasonable point, enough to fill him, but not last long, he knew. Nose pointed low, he sniffed the ground and caught a trace of the flower, slowly inching forwards in bee-line formation as he struggled to pin-point its location. As he looked up, he squinted passed the light touch of fog resting among the stone floor around his feet that stopped just a bit below his collarbones.

He could barely make out what lies within a ten yard radius, but it had seemed he was the only one here. He'd continue his search and quietly look for what he came for to help him before going back to the camp with a fresh supply of tansy in his hold. Hopefully, the blind wolf will be pleased with his find, it was the least he could do since the mender had been helping him gain strength - and Striker had even taken a liking into his wolf. Perhaps one worth training alongside. He had no one else anyway. Might as well try.

The world was changing around the young wolf. Everything he knew, was gone. He had lost so much, and for so long it seemed to just be an endless cycle of loss. The brute was quick on his feet this morning. He had to be. The other rogues in the area were far more dangerous than he, twisted and spun into awkward little weasels. They played mind games and wished for nothing more than insane revenge they would never get. Samael did not live like this. For now, he would train and build himself up. He would bring back the broken feelings and turn them new once more. He was not going to be shattered forever. Leaving the rogue lands made him fel much better than before. He was constantly worried of ambushes and the like. In neutral lands, he would be much safer. Pack wolves roamed these parts, as he often did when he belonged to Erenyx. The young prince moved without a word. His eyes were set on the future. The wounds from the fight with the evil king, still worried him. But he had eaten and been healed. If he turned his body too quickly or got up too fast, a sharp pain would roll down his side. It made him cringe and groan, but he pushed through it. Soon his body would be back to the fit shape it once was, healed and perfect.

As he embarked on his journey, he could smell the scent of a pack wolf. It was a pack he was not familiar with at all, but the pack scent was something no wolf could deny. Maybe this wolf would be able to be of some assistance to him? Samael moved casually, to trying to scare or charge the poor wolf. He was slow, calculated. A wrong step could cause some rocks to move out from under his paw and he could go sliding down a hill. The smell of fresh water was nice. He had heard about these lands from his father. Apparently, he and another wolf had a fight here, one where Steele had won. It was an honor to be in such a place as this. He walked towards the water and when he reached the burbling stream, he lowered his head for a drink. The wolf looked forward and saw a dark figure ahead. The form was something of black and grey. Lifting up his head, he looked closer at the male. It looked like... but it could not have been. Striker was dead. The young wolf had been forced over the edge of the cliff, headed down to his death. No wolf would be able to escape such a fate like that. Striker was dead and this wolf did not even smell like Striker. His Apprentice had a different scent to him, this smelled of a certain disgusting nature. It was foreign, but as Samael stared at this male more, he realized that this wolf might very well be Striker. He moved to the north, heading for the rear of the wolf before him. He stopped only a few feet behind him. "S-Striker? Is that you?"

The young ashen male cut through the fog in slow, winding intervals, nose till low and hovering over the ground as his nostrils flared to catch more of the scent he so wished to find the source location of. It had seemed that his mother's advice had worked, for he had laid a fresh patch of lavender among his den to abid a calming rest, that is, until he was startled to a terrible wake. He could still feel the light burning his eyes as it had shown right upon them, blinding him so quickly, for the speed of light was impossible to resist. But that searing agony within his sapphire glowing dark eyes was no match to the pain he felt during the great fall. The image itself had consoled the enough power to make him halt straight in his tracks and release a cold sigh of tension, breathing a puff of air through the fog ahead of him, which only seemed to brush passed the warmer gust of air before blending back together to hide the stone floor. Unsure whether to continue searching, he decided to take a breather and allow his mind to calm once more before forcing himself to focus more so on the task at hand than his past. He stood still for a few, measly little moments, breathing carefully in through his nose and out through his mouth whilst closing his eyes before examining his surroundings. There hadn't seemed to be much activity, which he had noticed before when reaching the top, and if there were, he couldn't see it very well, nor hear it in the distance. He tried to convince himself that this was a good thing, but it wasn't making a compelling argument in his head, Striker seemed to be a lot more shaky on the topic of being along now a days. He wondered to if Aleu ever felt like like this when traveling alone, and the thought of her made his stomach tighten.

The apprentice knew she'd be angry, disappointed even, and he knew the consequences of their friendship were unable to be avoided since his disappearance of Erenyx. He could only hope that she would believe him if the time came when they'd see each other again, until then, he promised himself he'd recover completely. Just the thought of her expression when he'd see her once more, it caused his eyes to loose its color and fade just a tad less bright, the twinkle within them entirely gone. Anger then replaced that fear, and fueled him to glare at the ground and curl his lips back over his razor-like teeth. Oh how he wished so dearly to curse at the wind and claw at the nearest tree till he couldn't feel an ounce of energy left in him to keep fighting. The idea was so tempting, but not even him in the state he was in could budge to even test it. He only stood there and growled quietly amongst himself till he told himself it'd be no use, he needed to let go, and so he'd try, but knew very well it'd take much more than just a simple order to forget what had happened. But before he could venture further into the gates of a foggy purgatory, Striker was caught at a dead halt to the answer of but of only his name in the distance behind him. Every muscle within him screamed to stay still, perhaps they had mistaken him for someone else, but this voice was too familiar to drop. Slowly looking over his shoulder, his ears narrowed back and his eyes faltered to see whom stood there, but it didn't take long once his sapphire hues rested on a bi-colored pair before him.

"Samael.."

His question seemed to of startled him, until reminding himself that he was thought to be dead, or at least those whom had been there to witness the time he fell alongside Aspen. The wolf he had brought with him down that mountainside. The past was unavoidable. Peering to Samael now seemed so foreign, he was not used to such a distressed image of his mentor, and never thought to of would seen him in such a state in his lifetime. The apprentice neared slowly closer to examine him, the fog becoming less of an issue to see passed as the distance gradually divided. "It is..," He managed to say, his voice lacking to keep loud enough to hear, the hoarse, raspyness to his tone carrying out in gentle ways, "-more or less.." Striker said as he peered down at himself before averting his blue hues to his brotherly mentor across the way. He stepped aside and made way to as close as he could to the male without brushing furs, edging a path around him so that the younger brute could take in all to what he could see of Samael's form. It appeared broken, and beaten to the point of near death - the apprentice could relate, and only sympathize on what he must be feeling. Lucky enough for him, he was able to have daily healing sessions to gain more strength, but now that his mentor was an exile, he did not hold such luxury. The apprentice felt the need to owe the older male his aid, he deserved that much from him, as did the healer whom helped him back at camp. "It's a long story.." He said as he looked to the older male, assuring him that he was in one piece, but knew that this male was suffering highly from his own injuries.

Samael knew it could not be true. He knew this wolf was dead. Aspen and Striker were dead. Shaking his head gently, he tried to force the vision from his eyes. He had hallucinated before. How could this be any different? But when the voice spoke out to him and approached him, Samael knew it was real life. As the male moved past him to look at Samael, he stared to the distance. Why was the brute looking at him in this manner? What had changed in him? Samael knew he was broken, that he was not the same proud wolf from months before. Instead, he was shattered. He had helped the young lad survive after all. The first wolf to come to mind after this realization, was Cliché. She would want to know that her son was alive… But Samael was banished from the lands, presumed dead by the Alpha himself. He knew that if he went towards the borders, Irrationality would be there to finish what Teren had started. He could not let this happen. Shaking his head gently, he turned around and rushed to Striker. It was a strange feeling, but he felt he needed to do it. When their shoulders were pressed one to the other, Samael wrapped his neck around the other male and held him close. The bi-colored eyes were closed from the world around them, as Samael held on as tight as he could. He nuzzled his apprentice gently, taking in the scents that covered his body. It was a strange smell that he just could not label. After enough time had passed, Samael released the younger wolf and took a step back. He too inspected the other, only this time he was smiling. It was the first time he had done so in a long time. ”Striker, it is so great to see you. I thought you were dead… Everyone thinks you are dead.” He recalled the image of them rolling over the cliff, together. It played over in his mind like a nightmare, every time he closed his eyes. He recalled the look on Cliché’s face, when all of her sons were killed.

”Striker, you can never go back to Erenyx.” His voice grew dark.”Shortly after we all thought you and Aspen had died, Chiara tried to stop the fight.. It literally did nothing. Only two pups remained, Ciro and Piper. Teren sent the Beta male after Chiara. He attacked her mercilessly. Then I stood beside her, trying to end the madness. Instead of commanding his right paw to get me, he came for me himself. It is believed that he cracked a couple ribs of mine. I got a couple bites in, but not enough to do anything. Teren allowed me to keep my life, thinking that I would die in the neutral lands. I would have, had it not been for Cheshire coming to my rescue. He committed treason so that I may live another day. He cured my wounds with some sort of herbs and this nasty thing I had to eat. But I am here now. Living the life of an Exile, on the run. If he finds me again, I believe he will kill me. In fact, I know he will.” Samael smiled to the young wolf, proud for both of them making it out alive when the odds were against them. Samael could only imagine what this young lad had been through. ”You don’t smell of Helidos, like some wolves I have interacted with from there… and you don’t smell like you live in the rogue lands… So where are you living now? How did you ever make it alive out of there?”

Affection. It was an undeniable warmth that came from its parasite, spread upon its subject until drained whole of its evil. It had been so sudden, so unexpected, that he found no effort within him to respond as fast as it was given. Striker found himself embedded against his mentor's shoulder, his neck stiffened from its hold, to what acted as a heavier scarf around him. It was bizarre. What had caught him most off guard was the closeness they shared in the smallest of those moments, so close, that the apprentice could feel his mentor's heartbeat against its own. It seemed much stronger, louder even as it vibrated against their ribcages. Striker was silent, but his thoughts could not contain their own curiosity for how interesting it felt. He couldn't just ignore it, as much as he may of wanted his personal space again, and simply stood still for the costs of his teacher's arranged happiness and joyous embrace. Without wanting to disrupt the male, he breathed slowly, and perked his ears to the sound of Samael having done the same, only deeper, as if inhaling his scent for memory's sake. Though, the apprentice shared no intentions of leaving, nor disappearing again this time around. He simply blamed it on the fact that his mentor was lonely, shrouded by darkness in this place of undefined souls. When released, he remained standing where he had been, observing as the dark male had reversed his actions to peer over his student with a grand smile. He assumed it to be pride in his work. Until his next words were voiced. "Being assumed dead might not be a bad thing.. if you ask me." Striker made no movement, and simply shared an amused glance in his mentor's direction before the feeling was once more lost to words he thought he'd never have to hear.

The apprentice held no surprise to what all Samael had to say once after he and his opponent, Aspen, had fallen over the cliff-side. The name alone made his insides turn with rage, but then relieved themselves to the fact that the wolf was most definitely dead. He had seen it with his own eyes, and remembered a tad after awakening, how he had hidden the corpse later that night. The amount of trust his teacher had in him astound him, but he never said a word of it, he was only surprised by how much he was being told, and rather, how quickly it was being processed in his head to remember. It hurt his head to take this in all at once, but he tried to make the best of it, his eyes slowly squinting to concentrate passed the sudden migraine forming in his head. In yet, when he had finished, the only thing he was left thinking of was the safety of his mother back home, as well as the male's injuries. Cheshire had committed treason without batting an eye, a male whom worked alongside his mother as both Leads. The thought alone made him on edge, but he trusted she could take care of herself back home. Striker's attention rose to his next questions, nodding once for he prepped himself to answer each one, for he knew it was coming sooner or later.

"Once after awakening on the ledge to what I assume I had landed on and blacked out at its impact, I rested there till I could force myself to move carefully down to ground floor. Aspen's corpse lay at its depths, blood seeped from his mouth and his head appeared to be caved in. His fall was presumably five times greater than my own, his death was quick, I imagine." The apprentice's eyes grew hazy, for it was almost as if he could see it all play out before him like before. Nothing of it made peace in his mind. He chose to keep the hiding of the body a secret amongst himself, and skipped to more important details. "I spent the night in an abandoned badger set with little to no food for three days until I found the enough energy to go in search for a better shelter. Minor herbs didn't seem to help any, so I submitted.. as broken and alone I was, I couldn't fight the chance of life or death on my own, so I went to the nearest border I could find and claimed oath to their Alpha. His name is Desmond, a former rogue of the exile lands, and owns a pack not far from here known as Agavos." Striker said, peering around him to insure no one was around other then them out of paranoia, his breathing gave away his fear. "A healer there, whom I've grown fond of, has been helping me gain full recovery. I've only been there since, and was told I suffered a variety of damage to my right side. I had broken a few ribs, and a severe concussion, as well as a fractured shoulder. I'm fortunate that my ribs did not erupt any of my vital organs.. If I hadn't of made the right decision, I may very well of been better off dead in the neutrals." Raising his eyes to meet Samael's green and silver hues, he managed a weak smile, secretly glad that someone he knew from the outside had been reunited with him. He felt at home in this male's presence, and considered him family without needing them to be proper blood. It was his decision to claim this bond between them.

"As much as I hate him, I have to thank him for not killing you juust yet.." He smirked, the air from his mouth visible to the eye as it wove before his face, the fog surrounding the two slowly for they stayed still. Then, the apprentice compelled his expression to drain of any further happiness, his face blank of any amuse or remorse as he looked to Samael with dead eyes. He wasn't quite sure how the other would take it, perhaps he'd be proud to hear it come from his own apprentice, but he prepared himself for both the worst and best out of him, "I believe its come to the point where our plans should be prepared to take great effect. We may be Erenyx's only hope of your bloodline ever taking reign again.." Truthfully, he didn't like the idea of making their reunion a political matter, he enjoyed the comfort of another, but there were more serious issues to attend. Or at least, he liked to think there were - but in another light, he just wanted to be home.

The lack of affection in return, did not bother Samael. Instead he shrugged it off. Striker must not have been used to such thing. After all, his own father never really showed any of the pups love. But that was to be an expected behavior of fathers in Erenyx. Steele had very rarely shown any form of love to Samael. It was only expected that Magnus and Tye shouldn't do it for their own sons. "It may be good to some, but I know your mother is worried sick about you. She believes you to be dead. Everyone does. Hell, I thought I was seeing things when I first saw you. But if any other members of Erenyx discover you alive, it will not be good for you. At some point your mother needs to be told, but it is far too soon right now. I am just glad you are alive. It appears our training together did help you." Samael stood proud before the young sprout. He had been growing like a weed, while Samael was rebuilding himself completely. "Make sure you keep that Healer close to you, I wouldn't want you to not make a full recovery. You will need all the strength you can muster." But the more Samael went to think about Striker's life in Agavos, he remembered that Striker was still an Apprentice and would still need training. This was the hardest thing that Samael was ever going to have to do.

"Yes, I will get Teren back for the wrongs he committed against our home. That time will come, but unfortunately it will not be as soon as I had hoped. I have a long road to recovery. And you do as well. It's not safe for you to be around me. And it's not safe for me to be around you... So while I am away, I want you to train. find the best wolf you can in that pack of yours and work beside them. Learn from them. I will come and find you from time to time, but I can't be your mentor any longer, no matter how much I want to be. You need to make sure you are safe from all harm, and as far away from me as possible. Teren's goons will probably start looking for me, once they can't find my corpse. I don't want anything happening to you again. Just try not to worry about me. Worry about yourself. I know that whatever training you get to go alongside the stuff I taught you, will make you a far better wolf than either of us ever imagined. In the mean time, take care, and always keep your chin up." Samael almost felt like a father in this moment, and it was confirmed within himself that he would make an excellent one someday. Now he would wait to see the reaction for the last wolf he considered family. It would be tough not seeing his quirky little smile every day, but he knew it was for the best, for both of them.

For a first, the apprentice smiled, and the twinkle shortly returned for just a thin moment as praise washed over the young brute. The last time he had ever felt this glowing, swelling internal feeling was when he fetched a hare for his father, but even then, it wasn't as strong as it was now before his previous mentor. Though his smile wasn't all that strong, and his feelings weren't very well expressed on the outside, the tip of his tail flicking did give away what he truly felt in that moment. Even though his mother may very well be lonely, lost even with the knowledge of all the children she worked hard to have were now gone, he couldn't help but find that selfish happiness in himself for having made at least someone pleased in this world. "When the time comes, if I ever see Mother again, I only hope she understands and keeps it among only us until now. As for Aleu.. She must not know anything of what's happened in Erenyx if you ever see her. I fear she hates me now, for I've not seen her since winter.. and don't plan to until my health has been completely restored.. whenever that may very well be." His ears flattened against his head as he looked elsewhere, not being able to look Samael in the eyes as he spoke of his friend and his mentor's youngest half sibling so emotionally. He knew there may be a bounty on his head if he were to ever be spotted by Erenyx ranks, but he was willing to risk his life just to see his friend in the neutrals. Hell, he was willing all he had to live for just to get a few herbs by himself at the moment, still regaining strength to even climb, let alone run. What more did he have to life for anyway?

As Striker was softly ordered to keep Orion at close ties, his form broadened into a more professional stance before the other, nodding affirmatively with his chest holding as much of a strong pose that it could take on despite his injuries. Internally disappointed that the male could no longer mentor him as he stayed in Agavos, he almost suggested escaping the pack to remain at his side, but he knew that wouldn't be wise. It could endanger both their lives, and if something were to happen to either of them, he'd know that it would set a major toll on the other for the rest of their lives. Samael didn't need someone holding him back, and Striker knew that he would need a pack until full development. It occurred to him that this older brute cared greatly for his health, and though he wasn't used to someone caring so much for him, he was glad at least someone other than his mother did.

He listened intently to what his previous mentor had to say next, slowly edging his body to a sitting upon the cold ground, to which shrouded with fog against his form. Lowering his weight seemed to make him feel more relaxed. He sighed a heavenly sigh, finding comfort in no longer stressing his bones to stand any longer. Rolling his gaze over to the exile, his brows knitted closely together in concentration until he was finished. Striker answered with an understanding nod of approval. He had a feeling he'd say such things, and kept a level head despite how much he truly wished to attack at moments notice. Though even at his age, he knew that was foolish, especially now since the two were far from full strength. He only had one thing left to say after such a small speech. The apprentice looked slowly into the other's eyes, the arranged silver and green hues staring already on him while his dark blue sapphires made contact at last. "Brother..-" He swallowed, for a first letting the title slip his hold rather than the male's name or mentoring title to the young brute, "-I only ask that you do not loose hope for the future. I promise you that there will come a day where Teren's death will be celebratory for both of us, and that we return home.. together. But in order for that to happen, please hold onto what hope you have left." He did not smirk or quarrel with the other, he had no energy left to make such comments or joke with him in that moment. This was a time to replenish and get rid of all ties to the past. If there was anything he learned from his parents, it was to never loose sight of the future. His usual dark sapphires of little emotion now glowed with the desperate need of acceptance.

"Striker, it's sad to see that you have been forced to grow up so quickly, but I am glad to see you in this light. Like you, I was also forced to grow up fast. I had no other option. It will not be easy for me, knowing another wolf is keeping you safe. But I will sleep better now, knowing that you are safe. And any wolf that does take you as their Apprentice, better be damn happy with all the hard work I put into you. If they had met you when I did... they may have given up. I don't know a more stubborn wolf than the both of us." Samael tried to make the situation a little lighter than it was. He knew this was not "the end". But it would be a while for the brothers to see one another again. The larger wolf looked down to his paws. As much as he wanted to join Striker in this pack, he knew that he needed to do this on his own. He had to prove to every single wolf who had ever doubted him. He didn't want any pack's scent on his coat when he eliminated Teren by himself. Taking a deep breath, he lifted his eyes to the younger wolf and spoke gently. "I am glad I got to see you, but I think we both should be heading back to where we belong. If you ever need me, just come to the neutral lands and howl. I will be there. Take care of yourself.." To make things easier for the both of them, Samael pulled himself to leave from his position. He headed back for the Rogue and Exile lands.

Samael exits.

You can reply to this if you want, but you don't have to.

» The Beauty And The Exile [Tundra]
» Day In and Day Out [Samael, Aleu]
» The Scientist [Samael]
» The Evil Within [Samael]
» Love is fictional [Samael]

Welcome to the Black Parade [Exile Samael]

Welcome to the Black Parade [Exile Samael]

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