To Come Undone

As the two debated the nature of the current conflict, a questioned surfaced in Savard’s mind, one that for whatever reason, should have surfaced much sooner than it had. What was he doing? How much of a fool was he, to be debating the nature of a conflict with one who was stuck so deep into it, through no choice of her own might it be added. Was there seriously to be some semblance of understanding to be reached through this? Would it help anyone to flap his gums as much as he did? Maybe it was some sort of frustration of the whole thing that had made him so, or maybe he was just that pathetic. For a wolf that discussed not wishing to be come involved in a conflict as much as he did… he spent so much time riling and offending a wolf that had every means to bring him deeper into it. Hell, was he that self-loathing that he desired to do this to another wolf? The news of him having a daughter all this time, who was raised during the years he was in jail only for her to fall into the underworld the same way he did… it made him feel like such a lousy father, a lousy wolf, a lousy creature. He didn’t need to take it out on a wolf that fought for something noble, something actual, such as this wolf did. He had pride to detest the nature of this war and all that it brought… but did he have the pride to shut his mouth?

The smaller aged fae was frustrated with his argumentative words, speaking on the hardships of Highlanders. Although Savard himself knew of hardship all his life, it was not of the same variety as she had had. She had no choice but to fight, and he ought to have realized this sooner. She believed in something greater than herself. Was this… virtue? The way she spoke, it was not a smear of shit across a den’s walls, but something from the heart. She had family and kin that she did everything she did for. She wanted change for her nation and the wolves that lived within it. She wanted the lives of others to improve… but there were wolves that opposed her, who wished only to prolong the suffering. Were they really, in that regard, equals? Even if Savard might never trust the wolves of always, the royalty that led one side or the other… there was a feeling that at a personal level, beneath the veil of her zealous devotion to a wolf and his cause, there was something real, something tangible. To fight for family… it was something Savard relented to broach the subject when it came to his own, but it was something he understood.

Listening intently to her words, Savard nearly missed the question she asked of him. His purpose, what he fought for. Those questions were ones he asked himself, as he struggled to define the point of his life, why he had not died in the prisons, and ultimately had tried to seek a change in his life. Was there even a simple answer to that question for him, one not only that she was privy to hear, but one that honestly would encapsulate everything for him? Something really had brought him up all the way noth, beyond just this one, particular stash of Renown, wasn’t it? He didn’t want to be an outsider looking in as much as he claimed to. At least… that, and his desire to do right by everything and everyone he could, most importantly his daughter. She might have asked Savard only what he currently would fight for, but those words felt deeper than they were. He thought for a moment, then, on what he used to fight for, and what benefit it had had for him. It was hard to admit, that after spending the amount of time locked up he did, all that he had gained and lost, he was truly a wolf without a purpose

“There was a wolf I knew once,” Savard said, “raised by a single mother. Anyways, that wolf got involved with street wolves, common in and about Rionna. Most of them belonged to the Thieves Guild, which more or less did their own thing, provided that they stayed in line. That wolf spent all his years fighting, killing, but aside from a lot of Renown, he wasn’t happy. Still, he did it day after day, did what he felt he needed to do without question, without hesitation. He was a kind and loyal wolf, maybe not the type to have manners or care for others, but he had charisma, influence, everything except satisfaction. And he died on some dockyard because some other wolves wanted to get paid the Renown he and his were getting paid. No funeral, not even a grave to remember him by.” Despite how flat his tone was, as if he had said it hundreds of times, Savard knew how personal it was for him to recall that story. His brother, Malachi, died that day, yet somehow, he was forced to live on. He sometimes envied it.
“I’m tired of seeing wolves die for nothing,” Savard then said, with a snap, “I imagine you got no choice other than to fight for the cause you believe in. I don’t claim to know how bad things are, and I’m no fool to think that things could ever be resolved peacefully. But I won’t support any of it, not when I can keep me and my own out of it.” There it was again, that accusatory, bitter stringing of words. Had he really answered her questions? Perhaps not, but then again, perhaps those questions might not have been possible to answer, especially to a wolf that had spent the better part of a year trying to figure those out for himself. All he knew at this point was what he no longer wished to fight for. Jacob may have been honest and benevolent, or he might have been part of the same hypocrisy. Either way, his concerns ought to come first. “But what about you,” Savard said, “why do you believe in Jacob? What has he done for you?”
.

Nora didn't really know what to expect in response to her question but it was not a story. Her ears perked slightly as she listened to him weave a tale of some wolf he'd once known that had died. She knew she should feel pity for him but instead she felt nothing. It wasn't because he was being argumentative, it wasn't even because he was a Mainlander but it was because he was no special. Every wolf she knew had lost someone whether they were dear to them or not, death was nothing new to many of those in Rionnach. In fact it was becoming more and more common with the constant state of war they were in. Would her country and its people ever know peace?

He continued on, telling her that he was tired of seeing wolves die for no reason and to this she could only nod in agreement. She was tired of it too but it was why she continued the fight. She sought an end to the death and violence. "But can you really keep them out of it?" she asked sincerely. Everywhere she turned someone was getting hurt, including herself and her own family. If she could keep them out of it, she would, but she couldn't. Nobody could. It would find the, no matter what.

Finally, he asked of her why she believed in Jacob and she just sighed. She fell silent for a moment and then her blue eyes searched his face in that silence. "He's given me hope." she said. "Hope for a better life for myself, my family and my people." Hope was a dangerous thing and to some, like Nora, it meant everything. She would stop at nothing so long as she still had hope she would succeed. That they would succeed. She looked at him now with pity in her eyes and wondered if he had even a shred of hope to hold onto. It was the only thing that kept her going most days anymore.

Could he really keep them out of it. The question itself was more than enough to give the wolf pause, for he’d be a fool to say he could. There were those he would call more than associates that chose to partake on this side or that. But there were those that he felt obligated to protect. Blythe, she chose to fight, but what of her young pups? The pups that she enlisted Savard to protect, in a way, with the… service he did for her. And Moeinir? Her involvement in the war was imminent, inevitable, if it hadn’t occurred already. Those wolves stood to gain nothing by fighting, a road that promised hardship, death, loss, pain, and grief. This world was not a kind one, this world did not reward those who gave themselves over to a cause. The thankfulness of a stranger sates only the self-absorbed. “I can only try,” Savard responded honestly, with gaze unwavering, “no more than you can prevent any more innocent wolves from dying.”

And on that notion of payment for a service rendered, or a lack thereof, what was it that Jacob gave to her, exactly? Hope. Hope was all she seemed to come up with, hope for her and hope for her friends. Maybe it was admirable, but for a wolf that couldn’t understand such a hollow concept, it was foolish. At least it seemed that way to him. To him, it sounded like Jacob was using wolves whose lives were so poor, that he was relying on them, no, using them, to gain the power he felt he deserved. Maybe that was just it. Maybe Adamh and Jacob were one in the same in that regard. The only difference was, those that fought for one were far different wolves than those that fought for the other. The wolf had her heart in the right place, and seemed to be doing what seemed right. But even if Jacob were to win, would her hope and faith truly be rewarded in the way she had hoped it would? He didn’t know. But those that cling to hope, were those that were truly desperate.

“Hope,” Savard continued, “is understandable, for you. But you know what else is understandable, what Adamh wins over with? Renown, purpose, a way out of hard times. I can understand why hope moves you the way it does… but for everyone else who isn’t a Highlander? What does hope give them? Why would any mainlander fight for him?” Savard felt at times he was coaxing an argument that wasn’t even there, and for what purpose? To insult the lady and her cause? To get himself hurt, captured or killed? Or maybe… maybe deep down inside, he pitied her. Maybe… just maybe… he found what she had to say moving, in a way he didn’t want to admit. “Before all this,” Savard continued, “what did you do? What was your life like before this war?”

“I can only try,” he responded and she shook her head. “No more than you can prevent any more innocent wolves from dying.” It was true, she could not save everyone... but that knowledge would not stop her from trying.

He did not question her faith in Jacob, but others. "They should fight against Adamh because he is not the rightful King. He stole his seat out from under Jacob-- who was meant to represent us all." Things hadn't worked out the way they should and she fought to change that. Adamh offered a lot to keep his faithful to his own cause but she did not know that she could be swayed after what those Imperials had done to her family. "Wolves in his Army killed my father and imprisoned my sibling when they were only trying to get medicine for our sick mother... who then later died. They didn't help us out of hard times but put us in them." she said. He had a sad story, well so did she.

At his last question, her ears twitched and she sighed almost blissfully. She could hardly remember her life before all this, it was so long ago and she'd been so very young. "I was a fisherwoman like most of my kin. Our family business was booming." she said. Everything had changed so fast. "I lived a simpler life but I can't go back." In truth she wanted to go back to that life but she'd pledged herself to Jacob's cause. She was no deserter... at least she liked to think she wasn't. Nora had a lot to live for now and it left her unable to fight the way she use to. Anteros and her children kept her grounded in reality and the reality was that if she kept going this way she might get herself killed.

Savard, usually one to be thoughtful in how he spoke and in what tone, had truly underwhelmed thusfar in his conversation with the Jacobite. He had blatantly insulted her cause, assuming to know more than she did about having a reason to fight. Perhaps it was useless indeed to throw one’s life away for nothing, if not for a valid reason. How much did this wolf care for her cause? How personal was it, truly? Well, she told him as much. She told him one thing, about the talk of righteousness and justice, what her people were owed, all that political speak. But deeper inside her, there was a real reason, why she did as she did. She’d suffered under the paws of the Imperials, her kin slaughtered, imprisoned. She spoke with conviction, not in a manner a liar would. She didn’t tell him to convince him alone, she told him what she herself had been though, why she was who she was. Because of what those soldiers did… she couldn’t go back to the life she lived. The life as a fisherwoman, and now, here she was. It was a very Highlander sense of honor and devotion that was foreign to Savard’s Mainlander proclivities. And yet, he understood.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Savard spoke softly, his head bowing in respect. There was no buts, no howevers… she didn’t need that, nor would he give it. What had happened to her, there was no justification for. He didn’t need to patronize her by telling her that there was some reason it happened. He was too good to do that to her, at least. “There was once a time that being an Imperial was an honorable thing, if you’d believe it,” Savard then said, “they kept Rionna safe enough. Hell… they were a problem even for the Guild.” Everyone knew about the Theives Guild, even if they didn’t agree what exactly it was anymore. An underworld? A large syndicate? A scapegoat? Savard himself never really knew. “Now… it seems that if you’re a criminal who wants protection from getting arrested, and free license to do what you want… it’s the place for you.” He’d leave it unsaid as to how he came to that conclusion. After all… it was best to keep the things one knows to one’s self, from time to time.

His apology was not needed and yet it softened Nora somewhat. She glanced down momentarily before looking back up into his eyes. "And I'm sorry for yours." she said quietly. He continued to tell her that he had once thought the Army was good, that they kept Rionna safe but now his mind had been changed. She wondered what had brought him to that conclusion but she did not bother to pry, not thinking he'd likely share the story with her anyway.

"It seems that way more and more," she said, agreeing with his comment about how it seemed most Imperials were criminals more or less nowadays.

"I hope things change under Jacob. I hope he expels all those who deserve it..." she said. She would not say what she really wanted, that she'd like to see some of them hung for what they'd done to her family and country. That kind of hatred was reserved for only the most vile. Her ears flicked and she looked at the man again, this time softer now than before. "I'm Nora." she said, finally introducing herself.

Savard had never known love before, not love in an idealistic sense for that matter. After all, what is love but intimacy, vulnerability, and trust, and for a wolf who prided himself on never showing any one of those three… what was he to have? It was a conundrum that the older wolf found himself incapable of escaping. This world was cruel, deceptive in what it promised the wolves in it, and to play it safe was what kept him alive. And yet… by living by his old code, a code that was surely perfect in its own right to him, could he ever change? Could he ever say he was a different wolf than he used to be? Most wolves had no problem giving their name, their profession, their thoughts on the world, this way or that. But reservation was something he always fell back on, and for those that didn’t share such a sentiment, whether it be wolves like Nessa, or even Bastien for that matter… it always seem to isolate him. It didn’t bother him, at least so he liked to believe.

Common ground, at least, was something that seemed to ease their tension. Both him and this Highlander, they had lost wolves they loved, and they had reservations on the natures of Adamh’s soldiers. It seemed to carve a pathway forward in their conversation. She was unwilling to discuss the shortcoming of her own cause… but thankfully, she harbored a resentment to those she opposed. The dichotomy of how they considered their foes was quite interesting, even if neither of them realized it. She blamed the wolves that slaughtered her kin, and rightfully so. After all… such things can’t be forgiven. But Savard… the wolf that killed his brother so happened to be one of his few connections to his former life, an occasional drinking buddy. Why, might she have asked? It was nothing personal in the lives they led, it was only business. The only question that one need only ask, was which of them were the more deluded in their coping?

Silent in response to her return of condolences, and in her agreement to his assessment to the way things were among Imperials, she reaffirmed her hope in Jacob’s rule that things would be better for all. She wanted certain wolves gone, expelled so she put it. Savard didn’t see how one wolf could change their lives so much, that one wolf would solve all her worries and anxieties. But desperate wolves, it seemed, would believe in anything and anyone, if they had no other choice. Savard had his doubts if expulsion would truly be what she wanted to do them all, to have them go away from this land and onto the next no doubt to do it all again, or worse, conspire. But it was not his business to press her further on such matters, as much as he wanted to. If she had desired his opinion, after all, she would have asked for it. Still, he had some words to offer. “You know as well as I do that nobody is getting exiled, when all is said and done,” Savard commented.

Having trusted the older male’s intentions enough, the Highlander gave her name to him. Nora, her name was. It was a standard that seemed almost foreign to him now. You agree with a wolf enough, you trust them to give them your name. Part of him felt it was almost too easy to deceive others these days. And yet… the other part of him was slowly realizing that he’d never change if he thought the same way about others as he used to. But maybe… it was the only way to come to terms with himself if he were honest… vulnerable. “I’m Savard,” he said in response, “you said you were a fisher, that it’s a life you wished you could go back to, but you know you can’t. Well… like my father, I grew up in tough part of Rionna, and lived a life I hope I don’t go back to. What I did or who I was doesn’t matter much more than that.” Shakedowns, intimidating witnesses, murder, if one could name it, he did it. But Guilders were notoriously tight-lipped about their lives, especially to wolves that wouldn’t understand. Whether or not, for his crimes, he was among those Nora wished to exile, was ultimately not up to him. It was up to her and her Highlander intellect, to read between his lines, and decide the kind of wolf he was for himself.

At first he was quiet, and she wondered if he might turn and leave her there alone but eventually he commented that nobody was getting exiled and she glanced down knowingly. She refrained from responding back, having nothing more to add. She knew once all was said and done there would be no exiling this time. This time it was life or death-- or it would be if either King had learned anything from before. If either was left alive this entire war would only be left on repeat. That was not the life she wanted, nor the life she wanted for her daughters. She wanted to know peace as much as the next wolf, though surely there were some that thrived in this harsh environment. She was not one of those wolves. This life did not suit her as it did some.

Her ears tilted forward as he introduced himself as Savard and then mentioned that he had lived a life he did not want to return to. He claimed that his past did not matter but Nora shook her head in disagreement. "It matters. It's shaped you to be the wolf you are today, whether you realize that or not is what doesn't matter." she said. She had to wonder just what kind of past he'd had to want to escape it. "The real question is if you want to do better and if you don't want to go back, I'd like to hope that you do." she added.

What kind of man had he been?

Nora lifted her chin slightly and looked at him now, her ocean blue eyes curious. She wanted to ask more of him but she didn't know how much truth she would get. Was Savard even his real name? She couldn't be certain, she supposed. "What kind of man do you want to be, Savard?"

Most wolves would have felt comfort or solace in the kind words this Northerner spoke. A reassurance of sorts that his life and mistakes were part of the process, that they did not matter as much as he thought they did. But the truth was far worse, for to think that anyone could be saved, it was naive, foolish, a fool’s errand to believe. It struck Savard savagely, Nora’s words, for although they were well intentioned, they were a painful reminder that wolves around him could so easily get their hopes up about others, only to be disappointed. And when they ignored all the signs and warnings, it would never be their fault when that dream of theirs came crashing down. She said that his past made his present… but that was the voice of a wolf who didn’t know what it was like. No… his past was something that when he went to sleep and woke up, he was reminded about. It was a death sentence for the things he could have been in his life he could now never become, above all of which were a decent father. He couldn’t even love his daughter without potentially bringing harm down on her. She didn’t get it, and there she was pretending to. But still, even as Savard’s scowl grew incredulously more obvious, she decided to question him on his goals in life. What kind of man did he want to be? It was a question he asked himself, and himself alone. He asked it of himself many times already, and it was a question that he didn’t have an answer for. He just knew who he didn’t want to be, but even if he knew that much, knowing the right things to do to at least try and make amends was a different matter entirely. Regardless, despite her best intentions, she was out of line for thinking she had any right for asking something so personal. Thankfully for her, Savard was not as hot-headed as he used to be. Years ago… she might not have walked away. There was an awkward silence as Savard exhaled the tension from himself, his auburn fur ruffling in a need to change the subject to something other than himself. “It’s funny how times change,” he said, “before all this war happened… at least from what I can remember about Aileen’s rebellion… your war was one of guerrilla tactics. The Highlanders weren’t an army as those in the south see it. I remember overhearing Imperial troops who were fearful of being ambushed, dying before they got a chance to fight. But now, with Jacob… Adamh seems to treat you so much different, now that you’re an army.” It perhaps was somewhat insulting sounding, but such experiences were the truth. Savard wasn’t one to dwell on strategy like those who make careers out of warfare would—for even those wolves had more spoiled morals than he did, even at his worst. And yet… the change did come with a point. “Funny though… if I went to an Imperial camp now, they’d interrogate me for anything I knew that they could use. But not you… not any Highlander in fact. I guess you have all you need to win this war of yours, don’t you?” An interesting thought at that… that the Highlanders really could pull this off.

everything he touched fell apart

code // art

It seemed she'd struck a chord within him and as he carried on, she simply stayed silent, eyeing that scowl upon his face. They had come to some sort of understanding it seemed, but this meeting had worn out its welcome, so to speak. Nora's ear twitched as he spoke of the rebellion and of Imperials and their interrogation tactics. She tilted her head slightly and then nodded. "We can't lose this time." she said. There was too much at stake. She supposed she should have interrogated him more about the Mainlands, bring the information back to Jacob's men and be done with it, but she didn't care. They were going to win with or without information -- they were going to pull this off one way or another. They just had to...

Then, Nora just shook her head and sighed. "I should get going," she said. She had other things to take care of and more to do than chat all day about various things. "Farewell, Savard." she said. "I hope when the time comes you'll be standing on the right side of history." she added with a soft smile. With that, she turned her back on him and left the way she'd came.

exit nora