|
|
Post by Pluton Leader Smiff on Sept 11, 2013 19:40:56 GMT
 It had been a long time since Addia had ventured this far into the city... a very, very long time, but hushed and whispered voices had told her of the news that the tides had finally changed. She was gone. Brooke was gone. Her mother... was gone. The idea simply shocked her. Addia had left Tempest thinking that maybe, one day, things would just be different and she could come back to her home to welcome arms, but that day had never come, and now it was too late to make amends with the former Mistress.
She had walked by Tempest, warily, wondering if she'd pick up the scents of anyone she once knew, but was too scared to go into the pack - especially after someone had spotted her and claimed to have seen seen a ghost. Addia didn't know how strongly she resembled her mother, but she wasn't sure if she was spiteful of the fact or not. Though she admired Brooke to this day for her strength and loyalty, she also despised her for her unwavering, unjust hatred and stubbornness. That same stubbornness that had torn the two of them apart.
Idly, she wondered if Diego, her only littermate, was still alive. Would he even remember her? Probably not. Not at this point. She was as much a ghost as her mother, having vanished into the forest and never once returning to the city streets that the scent of death seemed to haunt at every corner. Maybe that was a good thing though, that no one remembered her. As much as the idea hurt, it might've just been better that way.
She wasn't sure why she knew to come to the beach of all places. Maybe it was a genetic pull that both she and her mother shared - their love for the ocean - but somehow it made her feel closer to her deceased parent in that moment, "You were never one to believe in silly things like the afterlife, mother, but if you can still hear me, I forgive you."
For a while, she sat there in silence, her sightless eyes searching the horizon for anything at all - some kind of sign that Brooke had heard her - but it was impossible to know for sure. Addia had always struggled with not being able to see, from the time of her weaning to her mature, adult life. It had never ceased to frustrate her how the beauty of the world around her would forever be shrouded in mystery. Then again, it was that blindness that had given her the sense to not judge others based on appearance alone. She had heard all cats were evil, but being unable to physically see such things had made her question that prejudice.
A gust of particularly strong wind roused her from her deep train of thought, with it, the scent of a stranger. Addia whipped around, her long fur buffeted by the wind and sand. Though she had never seen a lion, she knew their scent, and she knew that there were still felines that would be hell bent on killing her. Even if she didn't believe them all evil, she in particular had to be extra careful. The moment she got careless, she'd be dead. Her lip curled up in a warning snarl, though her tail between her legs was a dead giveaway of the fear she was feeling. Little did she know that this lion was far from threatening.
|
|
|
|
Post by Picasso on Sept 12, 2013 10:08:19 GMT
This winter had been a lonely one. As Denim padded across the damp sand, he looked out at the horizon, sighing. His brother had disappeared a few months back, and the Iris had come to the conclusion that he'd been killed and his body disposed of. Despite their hatred towards each other, it plunged Denim into further loneliness. What family did he have left? Denim refused to count Kira, the insane lioness, as his half-sister. None of his siblings had survived, his parents had perished, and there were no nieces, nephews, sons or daughters to love and cherish. Perhaps it was for the best. Denim had Florence's blood running through his veins, and it would be best to never let that line continue. Who knew what he could spawn? Denim just desperately hoped Kira would never become pregnant with cubs either. The Florence line was done once and for all.
Lulled by the lapping of the waves, his mind drifted to the Tempest. News had spread like wild fire, and it wasn't long before Denim had heard of Brooke's death. She had been a good and decent leader, despite being a cat-hater. What had shocked Denim was the new Warden: Ryu. A cold, sinking feeling dropped his heart and made him feel sick. Denim had aided in Ryu's rescue nearly a year ago. He hadn't heard much about what Ryu was planning, but he knew it couldn't be good. Ryu had been locked up in the Iris Pride and tortured. Even with the help of Denim, that wouldn't have brought his feline hatred down.
Denim was at unease. With a new, young leader in place in the Tempest, but no leader in the Iris, Denim knew something was just over the horizon. Everyone knew the Iris would be obliterated if the Tempest attacked at this weak stage. As much as Denim hated the Iris Pride, he didn't want the Tempest to rule over them. The idea made him feel sick. Groaning, Denim continued on his walk, the icy-cold sea wetting his paws. The coast was always a pleasant, long walk to have. Denim felt as though he'd been walking miles. He was beginning to consider turning back and heading inland. The breeze was picking up and he needed to find food.
But something made him stop. A canine was gazing out to sea. Hesitant, he stepped closer, heart pounding in his chest. It became apparent when the canine was aware of his presence and a warning snarl was emitted from her lips. As she turned to face him, Denim couldn't help but to choke out, "Brooke?" But no, that couldn't be right. She had died in the Tempest territory, with many witnesses of her body. As Denim cautiously stepped closer, he saw that this was a younger canine. Her muzzle was not speckled with white and grey like Brooke had been in her old age. And the closer Denim got, the more he realised that her eyes were not looking at him. They were looked slightly to the left of him. Glancing over his shoulder, Denim ensured there was no one there. She could not fixate on his eyes.
It dawned on him that this canine was blind, and she was definitely not Brooke. Her features were slightly different, and she did not bear the same amount of scars that Brooke had. Almost relieved, he cleared his throat, "I'm sorry for startling you. I don't mean to intrude, I mean no harm. You just reminded me of someone." He hesitated, before starting to back away, wondering whether this canine wanted to be left alone to her thoughts.
|
|
|
|
Post by Pluton Leader Smiff on Sept 12, 2013 10:26:32 GMT
The lion speaking her mother's name did nothing to reassure her at first, the light rumbling sound of his voice indicating his sheer size alone to Addia - but his assurance that he was no threat made the fur along her neck lay flat and her hackles begin to relax. Out here, on the open beach, she stood no chance against a creature of this sheer mass alone - the only thing she could do was trust the voice of the animal before her and hope it wasn't a mistake to do so.
"You knew my mother, then?" she asked, cutting right to the chase. Addia had always been a dog of few words, and those words were rarely kind. She had been regarded as something of a brat and an ice queen when she was a pup, entitled as ever because she had been the daughter of the leaders - and while growing up had changed some of that, old habits died hard. It only occurred to her after she'd not only snarled, but practically spat at Denim with a bitter undertone that it was completely unnecessary, "I'm sorry. You're not intruding..."
She looked in his general direction, wondering what it would be like to see the lion and if that would have made a difference to her in this moment. A gust of wind carrying his scent brought back the bittersweet memory of guiding Florence's cubs out of the Asylum and giving them a chance to live, "I haven't been to Hexasol in a long time... it's hard to know who won't snap my neck in two." She paused, approaching the lion warily, sniffing the air and trying to get a feel for where he was standing. Eventually, she came to a halt right in front of him, her nose barely touching the thick fur of his mane. Then she sat, craning her neck up to where she assumed his head, and therefore his eyes, were going to be, "I'm Addia."
|
|
|
|
Post by Picasso on Sept 12, 2013 11:10:14 GMT
Denim stared at the black canine, eyes wide with surprise. What were the chances of stumbling across Brooke's daughter? He shook his head in disbelief and gazed at her. He vaguely recalled Brooke speaking of a daughter, whom she had not seen in a long time. She was too old to be part of Brooke's newer litter, and as far as Denim was aware, Brooke had only had two litters. Her daughter. Denim couldn't quite believe he was speaking to Brooke's daughter. Denim had no idea that she was blind... unless she had lost her sight after leaving Brooke. It was entirely plausible that she had got into a fight and been rendered blind. Denim decided not to ask, problems like them were a careful and touchy subject best not to be approached.
"We were acquaintances. I didn't know her that well at all. But everyone knows who the famous Brooke is." It struck Denim that there was something both Addia and he had in common. Not only had both their mother's been leaders of their respective packs, but they both had also fled their packs once they were old enough. Well... been kicked out. Where had Addia been all this time, when Brooke had wanted to see her again? Denim wondered whether news had even reached her ears about Brooke's death. Either way, Denim wasn't going to be the bearer of bad news.
He chuckled when Addia spoke of who would and wouldn't snap her neck, "Hexasol is a dangerous place. I'm not even sure why I haven't left yet. Why did you come back?" He asked curiously. Many canines and felines who flee the city rarely return to this hell on earth. Most don't want to be part of the war anymore and are sick of the fighting and death. Denim wishes he could leave, but he is afraid Natiri may come back and find he isn't waiting for her. Plus, Denim is afraid of the unknown and a pathetic coward. He knows Hexasol, despite hating it so much. He couldn't leave his home.
"Denim," He replied with a murmur, gazing into her sightless eyes, "We have common ground, Addia. Our parents were both leaders... and hated each other very much." He eyed her warily, wondering whether Addia would connect the dots and realise who his mother was. Addia was older than him, and would certainly remember Florence.
|
|
|
|
Post by Pluton Leader Smiff on Oct 16, 2013 19:52:31 GMT
Addia simply nodded, very slowly, in the lion's general direction when he explained further. Acquaintances. To be quite honest, that was how she had known her mother as well. As an acquaintance. Even when she had been a part of Tempest, it was not Brooke who had raised her and Diego. It was another pack member, Venus, who had had pups of her own at around the same time as the former Mistress. She wondered why then, even after all this time, she felt the need to make amends with her now dead mother - the very same one who had so coldly expelled her from the very pack she'd grown to love, at least, in some ways.
Why had she come back? Even now, she was wondering if this was all necessary, "I had heard my mother had passed," Addia answered at last. "I never really left Hexasol. I stayed close. I wouldn't have been able to go far... being as I am." She was referring to the fact that she was blind, of course. Small game was easy enough to catch along the countryside, but if she had dared try to cross the mountains and go somewhere far from this cursed city, she would have been sentencing herself to certain death - especially traveling alone. Her only companion had vanished many moons ago, so any hope for escape had vanished along with him.
"Your mother... was Florence?" she asked, the hairs on her back raising. Florence was single-handedly the most terrifying creature Addia had ever met - but even she had had some semblance of a heart, somewhere, because she had willingly come into deaths arms for her cubs.
Her cubs which Addia had helped save.
"I rescued you," she mentioned. "When my mother kept you and your siblings captive. I lead you back to your father... Panja. My mother banished me for treason soon after she found out."
|
|
|
|
Post by Picasso on Oct 17, 2013 19:59:29 GMT
Denim tried to gage Addia's reaction to her mother's death. She didn't appear upset - but had Denim been too sad when Florence had died? He had still been all but a cub, and he had needed her. "I am sorry for your loss," He stated pathetically, unsure as to whether Addia would even care. She hadn't seen her mother in possibly years, and it was clear there was little connection. It saddened Denim, but he knew the feeling. He wished he'd been able to love his mother like most loved a family member, but it was impossible when she'd been such an evil tyrant. He held warmer feelings for his father, but even he had make his fair few mistakes in his time. Sighing, Denim understood the reasons for Addia staying close. A blind dog would be mauled by outlanders on sight. She wouldn't stand a chance out of Hexasol. It almost hurt to think Brooke was so close to her daughter, and yet so far.
He swallowed thickly, hoping Addia wouldn't leave, now that she'd discovered his heritage. Whilst she was wary, she stood her ground. Relaxing, he murmured a quiet "Yes." As he was unable to nod in an affirmative. The next thing out of Addia's mouth made Denim freeze in surprise. She'd- No. She couldn't have. Could she? It was such a distant memory, and Denim had been so young when it had happened. He barely remembered the fateful day his mother died, and he'd been reunited with his two siblings. Denim had almost wished they hadn't been rescued. Florence had died for nothing in the end. Alex was dead and who knew where Neb had gone?
"Th-that was you?!" He stuttered, staring at her in disbelief. He took a deep, shaky breath, "I wasn't actually kidnapped by Brooke. My other three brothers and sister were. I managed to escape. But thank you, for bringing Alex and Neb back to me. Even if they were never the same after being at the Tempest." So this was the reason Addia was banished from the Tempest. It had been because she'd helped Denim's family. Denim's mind was reeling with all the new information. He was astounded he was talking to the dog who had saved half of his family. And yet Alex still became leader of Iris and wanted to destroy as many dogs as possible. It baffled Denim as to how his brother had been so stupid.
|
|
|
|
Post by Pluton Leader Smiff on Oct 21, 2013 6:27:47 GMT
"Speech."
She dipped her head as thanks to the lion, appreciating the gesture if anything. There were so many conflicting emotions revolving around the death of her mother, she wasn't even sure what to describe it as. There was, however, a strong feeling of loss. Maybe not of a mother, but what they could have been, if she had continued to live. Addia had always had hope that they'd make amends, but 'what ifs' were never valid in life. All she could do was pay her respects and move on, "It is... hard to believe she's gone." She paused, raising her head to the soft ocean breeze, relishing the tangy, fresh air, "I am just glad she did not die unhappy, or at the hands of violence. She always thought 'to fight' was the same as 'to live.'"
To be honest, she wasn't sure how she felt about talking to one of Florence's cubs. One of her litters had singlehandedly killed each and every one of Addia's siblings, leaving her and Diego as the only survivors. While Denim, Nebula, and Alexander had been a part of the next generation of cubs from the devil lioness of Hexasol, it was still enough to put her on edge. After all, Alexander's rule had been almost as cruel as Florence's. Still, she herself was a living example of the fact that not every generation harbored the same sort of blind hatred their parents did. There was no reason for her not to trust Denim. It was just still engraved into her very core to be weary - old habits died hard.
"Yes, that was me. And my friend, Isac," she explained. "I am sorry they suffered... I should have done something sooner. Maybe then..." she trailed off, shaking her head. No 'what ifs'. She had to remember not to think about what could have been. It was a lesson she'd learned long ago from never having been able to see. Wishing she could look upon things like everyone else in world had only held her back. As soon as she chose to stop caring about the limitations everyone put on her was the moment she became strong - at least, in her own right. "It seems you turned out alright though." She gave something of a laugh, hoping he would find her quip humorous and not offensive.
|
|
