In Dire Straits - crown of broken bones [anamelech]

CRUX

thorn in your side

He had been borne into a world on fire - flames of distrust and betrayal, of enemies and friends, of lovers and thieves of love. Of sinners and saints.

And he, in the midst of it all. The boy was young, not quite at the age where he would go in search of a rank. Not quite at the age where the elders of height and those who lusted for power would seek him out to claim his as their own. Not old enough for the flutters of his heart to mean more than a youthful interest and an excitement for life itself. The world was just opening up for him, and already tonight he walked a dangerous path. In these shadows crept dangers beyond what he could even comprehend at his tender age.

Crack.

The sound caught his sharp ears and he swiveled, fiery eyes flashing to and fro for the source of the sound. It was dark out but the moon was high, catching on his white fur, so he took this opportunity to crouch in the shadows of the rocks. They towered above his small form, casting black shadows into his hiding space. He knew it was too late, though, if someone was there they would know exactly where he was. It'd only been a crack, a rumble of stone shifting. Perhaps the earth was a living thing and had shivered, sending soft tremors that could barely be felt. "Who's there?" he asked the void, not even sure that there was anyone there. He felt unease chilling in his bones but stomped that out with a flame of stubborn fire, growing in his gut.

While it would have been more than reasonable for the young wolf to be afraid in the night when he should have been asleep, curled up with his mother, he found himself angry. Angry at whoever was there for not showing themselves, for stalking him like he was a rabbit. He narrowed his eyes into the shadows, standing up tall and facing whoever was there.

Make yourself be known.

OOC

Pulling over from the .org site (super late rip)
Dialogue - Thought

Once upon a time, Nevada, as well as her House and brood, had been of great interest to the fledgling goddess. This had been when Anamelech was a child too small for the crown placed atop her head. Nevada had been one of her first devotees -- pledged to Red, but nevertheless loyal to the Triad, and relieved to see what she had believed to be a worthier incarnation succeed Anamelech's tyrannical father. Time eventually proved Nevada's assumptions wrong, but fortunately, the Judge Pathos was not present to witness the deterioration of the young God's values, and fortunately for Anamelech, she was not able to intervene when her attentions turned towards Nevada's daughter.

Nevada had not only gifted Anamelech a white rose crown as a token of her devotion but a pupil in the form of Thetis.

In return, Nevada was given a family on the brink of complete disaster. Two children had vanished, one lay under the ground, and the other two had forsaken their family. Nevada completed her sojourn and returned to the valley with an unexpected reward: a star-kissed child born of a different father, a half-heathen boy ripe for the molding.

Anamelech never met the little boy, and thus, as she approached Crux, she did not recognize him through physicality. She caught traces of Nevada's scent from afar; not necessarily hinting towards parentage but proximity. She smiled, ever the charming one, and stole closer, as if drawn to the starlight writ across the white child's body. He was divine, and what a travesty she had never known him. Time to correct this. "Hello, sweet darling," sang the White Rose. "Whose are you? I haven't seen you around before."

CRUX

thorn in your side

The boy heard her before he saw her, and smelled her before he heard her. He spun, facing her with intense, vibrant eyes that one would recognize as hauntingly familiar, if they'd known his mother at his age. The starry boy watched her as she approached, cautious and ready to bolt if she showed her teeth. Ten, his stubbornness reared its ugly head, fueled by his anger at being stalked. While usually he would bolt, knowing his mothers would wish him remain safe, he didn't want that this time.

He wanted to stand his ground. He wouldn't be bullied, not by a strange grown-up.

"Hello, sweet darling, Whose are you? I haven't seen you around before."

She seemed.. nice? He watched her silently for a moment, calculating even as his merle nose flickered, inhaling the stranger's scent. Something seemed oddly familiar about her, but not in a way he understood. Little did he know, she was kin of his and his own half-sister was her bedfellow. I'm Crux - son of the Red and her Baishuns, he said, cautiously offering the slightest of nose-dips, just like mama had taught him. While he was not in the gentlest mood, he was not stupid. It had been one of the first lessons his mothers had taught him - don't mess with others, especially if you don't know who they are. They might just have power over you. Even if he grew bigger than them, smaller wolves could send legions to your throat. Though he hadn't even met Canaan yet, he was by technicalities her child, spat out onto the earth by one of her mates.

Who are you? He tilted his head. Sure, he'd heard vague descriptions of different pack members, especially ones his mamas told him to look out for, but he'd forgotten them now and was focused on the present, instead of wordy lessons and sharp nips on the nose. A burning desire struck his throat and he continued, intensity in his eyes mixing with an eagerness. His next words came without sarcasm, full instead of a desire to push past any silly small talk and give some worth to this evening, What can you teach me?

OOC

Please don't maul him lol. "Teach you to talk to grown ups!"

Dialogue - Thought