Post by jiminiminy on Nov 2, 2009 20:43:03 GMT -5
Siscarm was a nomad, an exile, doomed to wander these lands without returning to his birthplace. This was a rather solid ruling, he'd be killed on sight if even a single paw crossed the Nytyte into the Northern Territories, no questions asked. The people who wanted him dead were long gone, however, a plethora of new scents taking the place of his own pack's, his old family's. They were not borders he'd grown accustomed to, that of Oma Sidresis, 'the ones afflicted'. Their many changes in body and mind were present on the land, which still reeled from the invading foe, even though it had not seen a footprint in nearly five years.
Five years...
Siscarm had been nearing his fifth year when they left, and now was nearing his fifth year since then, coming to a total of ten, if he managed to live until the next summer. It was one of those ordinary facts that hit with the force of a raging elk. If he were standing, Siscarm likely would have been forced to sit down. He'd lived for so long, it seemed almost as if he'd never truly been born, simply always been upon the lands, like the gods that created it. But he wasn't a god, none of the divine ones would be forced to vacate their own homes, staring across the border at what was lost.
The River was not particularily wide, but it was rather deep, and very quick, which combined to form a rather lethal borderline to anyone untrained or inexperienced with its passage. More than one wolf had drowned in it's shifting waters, Siscarm knew this. He'd witnessed one such event long ago. It was not as pronounced as it once was, he no longer fretted over the loss that the death had imposed upon him. His family, his pack, his life, his name, they were meaningless, in the grander terms. But, though they were meaningless, though the ones who wanted im killed were long passed, though the waters provided no barrier whatsoever, Siscarm did not cross.
"It has been a long time."
Siscarm spoke clearly into the marine surface, racing unheeded past his muzzle. The mist surrounded everything, placing a blanket of precipitation upon any inhabitants, the solitary loner included. However, though his pelt was slick and his face shielded downwards, the air cleared his throat, stunting the ever present cough, bringing his voice back to its former clarity. The base tones rumbled in his chest as Siscarm stared at the waters, thinking. For the first time in a long while, the wanderer was without clear words.
"I imagine that you might be somewhat...Unhappy with this. Not just my tardiness, but at the whole scheme of things. You were the strongest, and you have passed on. Brother was the next, and he is gone, likely following suit. This leaves the runt, who has grown to be the last of the litter, and the last of all the pack. The only one to carry out the Yuil name, a forgotten, exiled, shunned, runt."
Siscarm smirked, almost as if a reflex to his words. He found the irony entertaining, but he winced and dropped his entertained expression to more of a pained one, as if he'd been struck in retaliation. This too faded, and the elder's face settled back into composition, though the flickers of a smile played at his mouth.
"Yes, you wouldn't like that. But I suppose that you got at least a little of what you wanted. With your final breath, you inconvenienced me. But that wouldn't last, now would it. Like I said, I, Siscarm, am the final of us to uphold the 'divine law' set against me. I was never much for responsibility though, now was I."
Siscarm stood from his seated position, raising his head up and squinting through the fog on either side of him. There was a whitened area in front of him, where the water surged over some shallow rocks. In the past he'd have thought nothing of it, skipping along the path with ease and glee. This was not the past, however, and the elder was forced to truly question the ability of his immediate advancement. Deciding it was not worth the risk, Siscarm began heading down-stream, where he'd seen an old beaver dam about a half kilometer further. It would be ironic, for two of the kin of Thramor to both be taken by the Nytyte, both for such different reasons.
It took little time to travel these lands, the hills surrounding provided no resistance or discomfort, past the light mist that seemed intent on becoming omnipresent in this area of the continent. Siscarm made no effort to dry himself, the air would simply wet his pallet the second that the opportunity presented itself. At least it kept his body marginally well kept, holding the scars and the thoughts far from an effectual mental range.
The dam was sturdy enough, if being a year or so old. Maybe two, for that matter. Not a whole lot of life was sustained in these streams anymore, the water was clear, and one could easily see their sparkling emptiness. Siscarm's progression stopped a little before the middle of the manufactured bridge, staring over the rough logs into the water. There really wasn't anything in them, no fish, no algae, no bacteria or life of any sort. The elder shook his head, focusing on the path ahead. There were laws to be broken, lands to be explored. He took another step, but faltered in his second. He did not take a third, which would have crossed the midway point, into the Northern Territories. His mind was fragmented further than normal, unwilling to cross the threshold.
Siscarm made no movement, simply staring across the remaining distance with a mix of emotions. His face shifted primarily between confusion and displeasure. Part of his mind was unable to cross the imposed boundary, no matter how hard his focused motor skills tried. He grumbled something unintelligible, stopping his mental strain, dropping the emotions shifting on his haggard maw.
"I suppose I should be surprised. That you can still keep me from here. Or is that just me, imposing rigid laws upon myself. Maybe you implanted this in my head before sending my off in the world. Mother would certainly approve of that. She always was a little too curious about the canine mind." Siscarm turned away, his voice falling into the more gravelly norm. The weather could only do so much. His paws dropped off the dam with little grace, landing on the dirt with a muffled noise and the pang of muscle pain. The elder cringed for a moment, before he began steadily heading south.
"Look at it this way. Even when you're dead, you can still stop my progress. Just like when we were pups, you'll enjoy that."
The whispers began again, the constant ache returned. Fragments began to squabble in his mind. Familiar air could only do so much.
"Same time next year. We'll try again."
Siscarm didn't look back.