Lyckos

His pace was slow, but steady; if he were to falter now he did not know how he would make it on his own. He was tired, world-weary, and despite shrugging off his grand title as an alpha and leaving his family behind, Lyckos felt more burdened than ever. His paws felt like lead, and his heart felt cold and raw. For a moment, he thought she was going to try and strike him. When the attack never came, he expected she would just let him go. But when she spoke, his large ear turned to catch her rushed question, and although he did not stop walking, he did move his head a little to watch her out of the corner of his eye. He was reminded of his last conversation with Risen, after Kalaber’s death. The Haunter Queen had contemplated dying alone and Lyckos had been sure that would never happen to him. Perhaps he was wrong. He did not know what he was going to do. The bark of laughter that left him was humourless. He seemed to have exhausted all available emotion.

“Honestly? I don’t know. Move on, I suppose. It’s the only thing I can do...”

That realisation made his heart wring uncomfortably in his chest, a pain akin to the one he had felt the night Hydras, Quake and so many others had fallen at Pike’s Lake. Despite the fact she stood just feet away from him, she had never truly returned from that battle, and the rest of the Lurker family were as good as lost to him now he had made the decision they were better off without him.

“If you would like some company, you can join me,” he said, as if they were strangers that had just met. Which, in a way, they were. Without the divisions of packs and allies, they were two loners meeting for the second time, but what may as well have been the first. Lyckos could not forget his feelings, or the past they had shared, but with the events since her ‘death’ and her demeanour now, it was all he could do to restart from the beginning, if she was willing to let him.

________________________________________

They had walked for the rest of the night, mainly in silence apart from a few fleeting words. Lyckos had stuck to the banks of the Requiems River, trying to stay near water as they journeyed towards an unknown destination. He walked to dull his mind to the world, to focus on putting one paw in front of the other to forget everything. He finally decided to stop along the river’s edge as the sun cast the sky with a warm orange glow as it crept over the mountains, and as they kissed, coated the entire valley with a golden glow. Birds began to sing with the dawn, and for a moment the glow bathed Lyckos, making him look like he had years past when he had first joined the Lurkers. The aging dane-mix had lost that sheen to his coat, and a few grey hairs were starting to show, but he had still managed to retain that aura he had arrived with, even if he was now back to being a loner.

He was tired, his eyelids heavy, and his pace had slowed noticeably since they had set off from the bridge. He ambled down the bank to carefully lean towards the water and begin to lap it up, thirsty from the walking. He cast an ear back; pausing drinking momentarily to lift his head to look back for the female who he wondered if she had stuck with him all this way. For all he knew, in his zoned-out walking, Hydras may have disappeared elsewhere. He hoped in his heart that she hadn’t.

Hydras

Hydras had stood for a long time, at the bridge, fighting two confusing wars in her head. One had no memories, no faces to go with it... it more of a silent, obscured want to be with Lyckos, and the feeling that something was missing in her life that she couldn't quite put her paw on. The other war was more concrete in her mind. They were the words that dripped with lies that she saw as truth, the endless, coercing tales from Tumult, Velvet, and Quilikham that assured her time and again that Lyckos was the enemy and so were the Lurkers. But as she stood there, she saw not a Lurker stalking proudly off into the night, she saw only a hollowed, wearied canine with the same lost look in his eyes that she had felt in her heart for the last few years.

With bitter realization, Hydras had to accept that Tumult had left her, that Velvet had abandoned her, and that Quilikham had moved on to better things. All those convincing lies and tales of greatness they had fed her during her recovering three years ago had been for naught. She was not a Haunter, she was not a Lurker, she was... a loner, just like him. The tri-colored hybrid lowered her once proud head and watched Lyckos' form begin to melt into the shadows of the night as he padded along, moving off the bridge and down along the bank of the river. 'What have I left to lose in this life?' The bitter thought traveled through her head as she stepped forward, pausing momentarily before pressing onward to catch up with brute.

Hydras had hung back during the first hour or two, debating with herself whether to turn around, whether to take advantage of the opportunity and strike him, or whether to close the gap between them in mutual need to ward off the loneliness that they both felt. The latter thought was the one that prevailed, because as dawn began to break over the Valley and bring light and color to the shadowed world, Hydras was only a tail's length behind him, where she could return a few words on the rare occasion that they spoke to one another. It was awkward at best, and yet it was a vast improvement over their last meeting, and a hopeful sign that these two lost and burdened creatures might still find happiness in their future.

Lyckos would find his old mate sitting a few feet behind him when he turned to look back, where she was taking the opportunity to lap up some moisture herself from the cool waters. From the corner of her eye, Hydras saw the dane turn to her, and without looking his way, she sighed quietly and broke the silence with words that were far less defensive and edgy that before, "Sometimes I wonder how it all started. The fighting, I mean."

Lyckos

Turning back to look at her made his heart flutter. The logical part of him wished she had simply remained a shadow, and had faded into the night at Pike's Lake to die amongst their loved ones - it would have been an agony he would never recover from, but something that would have its place in time, and while not forgotten, could be moved on from. Turning back to see her, bathed in the golden light of dusk, his Hydras, was something he had dreamed of, yet the one he loved had died, and her body was inhabited by a soul tormented and twisted by Tumult and his conspirators. It was a very different agony to endure; to feel so close to someone who could not remember you, and had been taught to hate you.

Yet here stood the fallen King and Queen of the Shadow Lurkers, together again in circumstances neither could have predicted. Packless, weary, and lonely. For Lyckos, it was almost as if his world had come full-circle: he was a loner, meeting this graceful creature to whom he felt an instant attraction and a spark of kinship that had once led the greatest pack the valley played host to. For Hydras, this life was an insult to what she was once, and who she still was, and everything she meant to him, the Lurkers, and the countless enemies she had seen off by the might of her jaws. Lyckos found that a worse fate for his beloved than dying valiantly at the battle at the Lake.

When she spoke, his ears shifted forward. He paused for a moment, regarding her quietly, a little confused. “You don’t remember?” He asked, his head tilting a little, before he gently shook it, and sat down. His legs were aching, and soon he thought they should find somewhere nearby to rest. They were in no hurry to get…nowhere. “ The Haunters were once led by a small wolf, with big ambition; her name was Risen. She had sought out an old friend with whom she dreamed up the idea of a pack grander than any seen before, not only of canines but of all manner of creatures. They inhabited the Ruins, where they still remain today, and began gathering members, those they deemed worthy, and grew into the super-pack they are now, only without Queen Risen as their figurehead. She had outgrown her former pack, did not want to sit amongst the ranks under their Queen, and so she betrayed them, and soon turned on them. She was once one of your Lurkers, Hydras.”

Lyckos knew very little of life before Risen and her Haunters for the Lurkers. His arrival had coincided with theirs, and so he had always known them as an enemy. Yet, he could still try and tell her more, if she wanted to know. “Do you remember? Would you like me to tell you more?”

Hydras

The defeated ex-lurker found it difficult to look over at Lyckos. She knew that setting her eyes on him would bring about the feelings of betrayal, fury, and hatred that Tumult and Quil had worked so hard to instill in her. And she also knew she'd feel that strange, almost sympathetic twinge in her soul, and an aching that she couldn't begin to explain. Everything had gotten so turned around and confused in her head that sometimes Hydras wondered if some of her fragmented memories were really part of reality, or perhaps just bits and pieces of dreams. Little by little, she was starting to lose faith in her own heart and the sharp mind that had been one of her greatest assets.

Irritated by the this weakness of mind and confusion of heart, Hydras compelled herself to look across at Lyckos again with cold, distant eyes, "I know of Risen." Under the misguided ministrations of Tumult, the small wolf's name was one of legend and grandeur.... or at least, it had been. Hydras' ascension into the Haunter's upper ranks had failed, and she had been abandoned by those who had been her supposed saviors; Risen's name now brought little but disappointment and disdain from Hydras. "I don't see the point any more, Lyckos. Who should I believe? You? One of the Haunters? Both tell me different versions of the same story." Despite her frustration however, there was a longing for knowledge, for truth in the story. The only problem was, she didn't know who to trust, and could not even rely on her own mind any more, so convoluted and patchy were her memories.

Lyckos

Lyckos could hear the frustration in her voice, and sense her hesitation and confusion. She still held those small mannerisms that gave him clues to what she was thinking, and how she was feeling. It pained him that she did not trust him, yet he couldn't help but feel a little hopeful that she may have begun to doubt Tumult and his version of events at least.

"I can't tell you who or what to believe."

It was that simple. Lyckos would not try and plead his case, to bombard her with the truth she should have known; he knew Tumult had gotten too deep in Hydras' mind, and pushing her with his version of events would only confuse and torment her more, and probably push her away. He believed the only way to help her, was to offer her what he could, and let her find her own way to what she wanted - whether that was to him, or to the idea Tumult had given her.

"I can only tell you things from my point of view, and let you be the judge of whether or not you believe me. In your heart, you will know."

As darkness began to creep in, Lyckos sighed, glancing round for somewhere they mind find some shelter where they could rest for the night. He spotted a small thicket, not too far from the side of the river. He stood, smiling weakly at Hydras, before directing his muzzle at the thicket. Wearily, he made his way there, and took a seat in a more protected patch, with a denser canopy, and leafy bed area. "I'll keep watch while you get some rest; we can take it in turns?" His faith in her was implied in that he was willing to sleep while she was sat awake beside him, in his most vulnerable state. He held no fear of her; if she was going to attack him, she would have done it by now, and he believed something deep inside her heart was holding her back.

There was a long moment of silence, where Lyckos did not look at her. He stared at the darkening sky, lost in thought. Without moving his gaze, he suddenly broke the silence, "Can I ask you why you don't trust me?"

Hydras

Hydras knew she would not get any easy answers from Lyckos. Even if he had gone on to explain things and speak from the depth of his heart, laying out the truth of who she was and what they had both been together, the aging wolfdog would have to go to extraordinary lengths herself to believe it all, and her mind was just too tired to do that. As he'd speculated, too much effort from the dane might have widened the bitter rift between them, leading Hydras to believe that he was trying to con her again as Tumult had told her.

"If it were only that easy." Her bitter mutter was spoken quietly to herself, though she didn't make an effort to keep the dane from hearing it. A judgmental gaze kept on him, watching as Lyckos cast a look around before finding a potential shelter in the boggy land. She held off at first when he began to amble towards the thicket, refusing to give him a smile back for the one he offered - and strangely, she felt an uncomfortable twinge in her heart. But was it guilt, or was it disgust? Hydras didn't know.

Hydras finally began to move forward, letting her mud-splattered paws carry her towards the natural shelter. After hesitating for a moment, and turning her eyes from the water's edge to Lyckos, the tri-colored hybrid stepped inside the tangle of small trees and eased down on her belly with a muted sigh. 'If he kills me tonight, at least it will solve the debate. And if he doesn't...' It wasn't in Hydras' nature to ever give in, and in reality, she would absolutely fight tooth and nail to defend herself if Lyckos did attack, but she was not going to keep up the constant fight in her head about whether she could trust him or not. From this point on, she was willing to let his actions and words speak for themselves. "Very well. I will take the second shift." Hydras rested her head down on her white forelegs, then perked her tall ears in the dane's direction when the silence was broken by his question. "...it's not an easy answer, Lyckos." She started at length, "If you want the short answer, it's because I was abandoned by someone who was supposedly my love, and rescued by another whom you would call an enemy." In truth, Lyckos and the Lurkers had never abandoned her, but Hydras's recollection of that fight four years ago was sketchy at best, and Tumult had been especially persuasive in his story telling.

Lyckos

Weary, sodden and mud-splattered, Lyckos looked anything but the great leader he had been known as. Since becoming the solo leader of the Lurkers, Lyckos had grown into the role, addressed by many as sir, King, with many allies rallying behind him, respect and camaraderie at a high, and a strength and bond once again unshakeable within the core of the extended Lurker family. He was proud; it was an achievement none could scoff at. Yet, it had taken its toll on him, leaving him a shadow of his former self, tainted by war and loss, crashing from one tragedy to the next, with little reprieve in-between. The Lurkers had needed him, and he had walked out on them, when it all finally became too much. Whether or not they could ever forgive him was something he did not know.

He felt he had to leave, he couldn’t do it anymore. Trying to hold strong while seemingly endless disaster fell on you and the ones you cared about was a heavy burden, especially when you were the one who was supposed to protect them all in the first place.

He could not look at her while she spoke, his gaze remained trained on the night sky. He was so tired, so lonely, and so lost. Her words…they clawed at his chest, and his large ears curled back against his skull, his head dipping a touch. “I never abandoned you…” He stated quietly, a note of defeat already in his soft voice, “…we all believed you were dead.”

He stopped for a moment, pausing as if he wanted to say more, but was holding back. He shuffled his paws, distressed at how to word what he wanted to explain – he had to tell her how wrong she was! It may well push her away, make her defensive of Tumult, but he could not let that lie hang between them. She was lost to him either way…

“I saw the snake strike you, saw you slip from us and lie still on the grasses near the Lake, and then the fire…” he winced, clearly still haunted by those images, his eyes snapping shut as he took a moment to compose himself, his voice raw with supressed emotions as vivid images of that day flashed through his mind as he saw allies, pack mates, and loved ones fall, “…It was too hot, too fast, I panicked!” He could not face her; reliving the horror was enough to bare, and besides, his mate had been lost in the fire – his grief was for his lost love, not for the shadow of a Queen that lay behind him. “You had died…we all believed…if I’d have known of any way…I had the pack to think of…”

He sighed, and with his breath mixed the misery, the sadness, and the emptiness of his soul.

“That night was the night I died my first death.”

It was only then he turned his head, but did not look at her eyes, only at her paws stretched before her.

"If I'm not mistaken, you seemed to have been abandoned a second time by the other who claims he loves you. I didn't have a choice; he did."

Hydras

Somewhere in the distance, Hydras heard the haunting wail of a loon echo across the marshland. Her ear flicked briefly towards the sound, then twitched in a subtly new direction when the bird's mate called back. One aud remained steadfast in Lycko's direction however, both to listen to his words, and follow the sounds of his movements. 'I never abandoned you...' The wolfdog wanted to turn her lips back in a disgusted grimace at the phrase, and at the tug it caused in her heart. Alas, she could never know whether that wretched tug was caused by sorrow for Lyckos and the love they once shared, or the hurt of betrayal that Tumult had convinced her of. All she could do was listen to the defeat in his voice, and wonder if it was sincere and real, or whether it was all a part of the act.

Hydras adjusted her muzzle, angling it away from Lyckos a little to hide the fresh look of confusion in her eyes. Her throat felt constricted as she listened to the tale of her near demise, and the even that had shattered her reign of the Lurkers, and if Lyckos was to be believed, shattered his life as well. Hydras remembered next to nothing of that event of course, and knew only what she'd been told afterwards, once she'd awoken from her delirious slumber and crawled her way back to life in the hidden den that Tumult and Quil had secreted her away in.

The shewolf's head came up at last when the dane brought Tumult up. This time she did look at him, fierceness in her eyes to cover for the pain, "He-" She started off strongly in what wanted to be defense for the wolf that had saved her, but her words wilted on the tongue and she rumbled softly in frustration. "Don't speak of things that you know nothing about." She wanted to stand up for Tumult, to cling to the only wolf whom her broken mind and emotions could remember loving, but she could not deny what Lyckos had pointed out. Tumult had left her, and so had Quilikahm and Velvet.

Lyckos

Rebuffed, and with Hydras now on the defensive, Lyckos decided to leave off trying to push at the divide between them. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, his eyes flicking up to look at her briefly. Sorry for Tumult abandoning you, for pointing out how alone you now are…for everything. He sighed, “and I’m sorry that your life has become this…” he whispered to her, directing his muzzle around them, this pair of canines who has lost everything – including each other – and over the boggy marsh, quiet and lonely and solemn. Living your life not knowing who you truly were, with no sense of place or home…he felt such grief for her. She did not deserve this, even if he felt the sting of rejection and betrayal from her that Hydras could not be blamed for. His last words even caused an uncomfortable realisation for himself; Lyckos was alone, and had little more than the wolfdog that lay behind him. He could have turned back to the alleys, re-entered the den excusing himself with stirring words that could have brought the Lurkers back together and rekindled their strength, but he just could not bring himself to. His father, his nephew, both killed mere hours ago, others severely wounded, and all of the deaths before them drove like an arrow through his heart. It was a selfish thing to do, but he could not have fallen apart before his pack, they deserved better than that; they needed a strong leader, and he had become compromised by it all.

For a moment, he even felt a surge of anger at Hydras, for wanting to be with what the Haunters had been, and what the Nuova Alba now were. Risen’s Haunters had all but broken the Lurkers many times before, had launched countless attacks on them and taken many members that would still have been alive today had things been different. They were scum, murderers, and stopped at nothing to see their notion of a Shadow Valley succeed. They had all but destroyed him, and everything he held dear. It could have been anyone…anyone but him that could have saved her from the fire at the Lake, and he might have accepted it…but Tumult? Tumult, his mother, and those that still fought in her name were everything he despised in the world, and Lyckos felt her love for him as a sickening, crippling betrayal, not just to him, but to her family and comrades that had died for her, and died to stop those very same wolves from ruining all they held dear.

Rationally though, he could not blame her, and the spark of rage was dampened. She had been fed lies, and he would have perhaps been the same if he was in her position. Trying to level his temper, Lyckos spoke once more. “Where were you going when we met at the Bridge?” Turning to small talk, Lyckos hoped to reduce some of the tension and emotion from between them. Perhaps reverting back to acting like strangers might make this situation more bearable.