Two Rights Make A Wrong

Well maybe if you paid attention to me half as much.

The word bounded in his head over and over again, having run off from the thick atmosphere of family without any good direction to go as he found himself surrounded by tall trees instead of buildings. He still couldn’t believe his elder sister had said such a thing to their mother, having only ever seen her shy and sweet. To accuse their mother of neglect didn’t sit well with him but he couldn’t help feeling guilty if he was stealing time she could be getting, thinking the best option was to leave them alone. His eyes shut tight, certain she would be angry he took off without a word, though they had both been too distracted to notice him leave out from under their noses. Certainly, he’d be seeing either smoke pelt trailing after him if they had, collecting him like the burden it seemed he was to his sister. If she wanted alone time with mama, he would gift it without hesitation. He was just thankful Sheik hadn’t been there, feeling she would be far more hurt than him or draw attention to herself to try and calm the situation.

They needed to talk, even his puppy brain knew that much.

“I took wrong turn,” he whimpered to himself, spinning in circles in search of the Tiamat Manse he called home but saw nothing in any direction, starting to get dizzy from twirling. Panic was setting in, realizing he was lost in a place he had never been to before and he didn’t know how to get back to where he needed to be. His nose was full of pollen, scents distorted by the floral perfumes among so many other new smells. The trees smelled different here, shimmering a vibrant red. The only thing that he had to keep him company was new pine marten friend he was still getting used to always following him around.

“Stomps, do you know where we are?” he asked the critter that paused to stand on its hinds and look at home with those dark bead eyes. Before he knew it, Stomps had b lined to him, hopping onto his back to get a higher view of the area before cuffing his ear with tiny fangs, wanting to play. It brought out a giggle fit in the boy, noticing how much gentler his friend had gotten since they first met, his little claws now tickling instead of slicing him to bits. He followed after it with a joy in his gait now, playing chase. “Stomps, slow down!” he cried with giggle snorts, his entire focus on that rusty pelt.

He was so focused he didn’t notice till it was too late that Stomps had scuttled right between a wolf's legs, having thought it was tree roots at first. Without enough time to react, he would slam headfirst right into a man made of trees, stopping him in his tracks. The fur tickling his nose and making him sneeze all over the leg of the stranger. Timidly he looked up, shrinking with apologetic orbs fixed on a mutilated visage. “Sowwy, Mister, I wasn’t paying attention. I was following Stomps thinking he knew how to get back to Mama. Right Stomps? Stomps?” he murmured up at the man with a submissive tone, though got rather distracted when he didn’t see the marten anywhere.

Where did his friend go?

Quickly he got up, turning around, looking in the direction he had just come from. "Stomps!!" he called out, though a smile would take over that sad face when he saw the long bear cat up on a branch. "Stomps comes back down here!"

manip + code: clae

Lachlan O’Conaill//i am the monster in your head.

Lachlan had been busy minding his own business for once when all of a sudden some kid came launching out of the woods and straight into his legs. Then the little cretin sneezed on him. The edges of his torn lips curled in disgust as he drew back from the boy and shook his sneezed upon leg like it was diseased. "Fucking gross, kid." he hissed as the small boy shrunk before him, apologetic.

His ears flicked as he said something about a 'Stomps' and then turned to yell at some critter in a tree. What the hell was this kid on about? Lachlan was already irritated from being disrupted and now he was pretty much being ignored. His nose twitched and he moved closer to the kid, dark eyes looming over his tiny frame. "Why don't you watch where you're going next time, pipsqueak," he warned. He was never in the mood to deal with children, despite having so many of his own. He was no father figure that was for sure. He looked up and past the young wolf to see if a mother or father would be popping out of the woods any time soon to gather them up but it seemed like they were alone. His fur bristled lightly and he let out a huff as his gaze fell back to the boy.

He seemed a little young to be out wandering alone but that wasn't Lachlan's fault. Maybe he'd have a little fun with the runt before being on his way...

"Lachlan speaks."

art and table by hale.

His ears would only flatten more on his head at the curse word that was used, know the word was bad and that only adults could use it made his fur want to bristle a touch along his spine. The dramatic shaking of a leg would cause his head to tilt just so as his tail tucked as close as possible to his frame without going along his belly, waiting to get an even greater reprimand than some profanity. “I said I was sorry, mister. That was a justa allergy sneeze, you won’t get sick and lose a leg,” he reiterated, as if apologies could fix things and that pollen causing the sneeze was any less gross. He was completely oblivious the tickle had been from the man's fur. Taking a slightly harder look at the man, he’d notice he was rather old like his daddy, making his fur smooth, expecting him to fully understand just like his daddy. Mama always warned him about strangers, but he was still in the Mainlands, he was fairly certain from the smells, so he didn’t think a potty mouth would be anything to worry about.

Stomps wasn’t being a good Stomps, that was for sure as it didn’t obey his demands for the critter’s returns at all. It actually seemed rather frightened up there and it caused Haskell’s voice to trail off from yelling anymore up at him, not sure why his friend was scared. Had he seen something? It made his heart lurch, uncertain what bloodlust the martin was sensing that it even started to alert him to flee.

The warning would draw his attention back away from his interspecies friend up the tree, looking back up toward the much larger man than himself. The torn up face wasn’t much of a thought, in some ways he thought it looked cool and he thought maybe the man was some awesome soldier that may have retired during the last war. He wanted to ask him about it but quickly came to terms with the fact he didn’t want to bring up anything bad, since it could be caused by something not with a cool backstory at all. Still, stars were in the little boy's eyes at the very thought he was someone like the rest of his family. His little tail wagged as he decided he should probably ask something more important to his situation. “Ummm you wouldn’t happen to know where we are, do ya? I think I’m lost after giving mama and sissy some space to talk…I shouldn’t have wandered so far but you look nice Mister, so could you help me?” he asked with a big toothy grin, sniffling a little as he felt an urge to sneeze again.

Don’t do it! Hold it in! Gosh it burned the nostrils as his eyes started to water. OH no he couldn't hold it back much longer. ACHOO!! He turned his head, missing the man's leg only to hit the one he didn't get last time, not as directly thankfully. "Sorry again...I'll umm sneeze at the ground next time" he awkwardly smiled with another sniffle, trying to charm his way out of getting yelled at again.

manip + code: clae

Lachlan O’Conaill//i am the monster in your head.

The boy seemed apologetic at least and perhaps that might've lessened a normal wolf's anger but to Lachlan, he only seemed more pathetic. He might as well pin a target to his back. "I don't give a fuck what kind of sneeze it was, it's disgusting." he retorted, scrunching up his scarred muzzle further and uttering a low growl. He watched the others demeanor curiously, wondering why his tail was wagging but the innocent question that fell from his lips caused Lachaln to snort.

He looked... nice?

"What about me looks nice?" he snapped, baring his teeth. He was only growing more irritated with this kid and for some reason being mistaken for someone who was 'nice' triggered his anger all the more. He liked to be feared by others and the fact that he did not have this pup trembling before him sparked a fury in his belly he could not quite explain. Most took one look at his scars and ran, but not this one. There were some braver ones that would ask about them and those were the sorry ones but the kid only began sniffling again and Lachaln's brow furrowed slightly.

Disdain filled him as he sneezed again, this time upon his other leg and that was perhaps the final straw that broke the deer's back.

"Sorry kid, there won't be a next time." he spat. Without another warning, he lunged for the grayscale boy and attempted to scruff him.

"Lachlan speaks."

art and table by hale.

How quickly the man shut down his attempt to make what he did sound better would cause his lips to press tightly together, glancing away from the man as he got scolded. It didn’t bother him as much as when a family member got angry at him but it still felt bad all the same as his breathing picked up a little, anxious that his apologies also did nothing. Sheik was always so easily won by an apology, just like himself, making him not really sure how to handle this further besides stuffing his nose full of cotton so it might never happen again. That wouldn’t do since he had none to put up there. Sheepishly he looked back up at the man to see the contorted snarl, the growl wasn’t something he was used to hearing either as he fidgeted with his paws. He couldn’t see any of the signs that were telling him to run, that he should stop while he was ahead and take his leave. Rather, he was trying to figure out how to fix what he did in silence, trying to make heads or tails of what to do next.

The man only seemed to get angrier after everything he did or said, having never thought his compliment would obtain a fair warning of aged teeth. His fur started to stand on end a little, though he didn’t take it as seriously as he should either. When mama flashed her teeth at him, it rarely was all that scary, at worst getting a nipped ear as reprimand. Maybe that was all this man would do? He didn’t understand what he had done so wrong though as his ears tipped back and he looked at the man wide eyed. “Aren’t everyone with scars heroes, mister?” he murmured innocently, truly believing that to an extent. So many of the soldiers had them so surely this man was like them. It all made perfect sense to him and when had his intuition been wrong before? Well besides thinking he could fly or become a perfect piece of poop or any of the other stupid things he’s done?

That was besides the point. He had never been wrong about someone’s character before. Even Auntie Nassar was only scary looking on the outside, she was a jelly bean on the inside, sticking to his teeth like sugar.

He still had faith this was all just a misunderstanding or that he was just toying with him as the second sneeze came and went, making the man look about to die from just thinking of germs. He would be very wrong as the warnings were up and his chance to get away even more so. Startled, impulse was the only thing that allowed him fast enough reflexes to dodge the man as he was lunged at, jolting out of the way like a scared rabbit only to fall over. “H-hey!!! You’re a grown up, you should know betta than to hurt others by now. Dats mean!” he yelped, fur sticking up as he glared up at the man with fear hidden behind an attempt to seem bigger than he ever would be.

There would be an attempt to run but it was already too late for getting any head starts as his heart pattered in his ears frantically, his little legs gaining little ground. “Mama!!” he cried, hoping she would come to his aid somehow.

manip + code: clae

Lachlan O’Conaill//i am the monster in your head.

“Aren’t everyone with scars heroes, mister?” At this Lachlan paused, if only for a second, to think about himself as a 'hero'. It was often the narrative he used when trying to pick up girls for they would not give him another look if he told them the truth behind his scars. "No." he uttered coldly as the boy dodged his initial attack just in time. He was quick, and small, hard to get a hold of but Lachlan was determined to teach him a lesson.

The quivering anger in the boy's voice did not deter him and even as he cried out for his mother, Lachlan pursued him.

Another snarl escaped his scarred jaws and he lunged again for the boy, aiming to snatch him up by whatever he could, which just so happened to be his tail as he turned away from him to flee. He felt his teeth clasp down on something and without thinking, he would crush his jaws tighter together until he felt something break.

"Lachlan speaks."

art and table by hale.

Ears tucked back when his thoughts were smack away again, not really sure if he should believe the man or not, or hold strong to his beliefs. He was used to questioning them, mother always made him think deeper than just surface level, even if he preferred it that way. A whine escaped him, not able to think about it really at all when someone was attacking him like this and all that was in his head now that he just barely missed fang was to leave. To get to the mommy he should have listened in the first place about not trusting everyone he saw, to never leave her side. To never instigate if he can’t back it up with teeth. There was a flashing thought to turn around and try to stand his ground on that thought, making his steps slow even more. What if he could be like the rest of his family? Be soldiers like them?

He’d be a true Tiamat then, especially if he somehow won!

He should have never allowed those thoughts to slow his steps or enter his brain, he should have taken that little bit of opening to run because in seconds he would regret it. A sharp surge of pain flared from his tail and up his spine, making his hind legs go weak immediately as his back half hung in the air. He let out a rippling screech that caused all the birds in the trees to scatter and even his pet to hide more out of view, trembling but not leaving. “Help!!! Mama! Daddy! Auntie! Sissy! Someone! ...anyone... ” he cried. Frantically he tried to kick the man, clawing his talons into the hairless mangled flesh of his cheek. There was no escape as electrical like surges rippled and a pain he could never imagine or explain crippled him.

Tears gushed down his face as he pulled and pulled till suddenly there was a release and even more pain. Rather than trying to run again, he’d turn on his heels to try to bite the man in the face, tears rolling down his cheeks. He wasn’t so sure he had hope in those shaking limbs of his but if he didn’t fight, he was certain he would die here.

manip + code: clae

For some reason that he could not explain himself, the Redwoods always hosted the seediest of wolves. Was it the scenery, the privacy of nature, that allowed so many wolves to give in to their basest instincts, to care not in ways that normal wolves should? Some days, it made the slums of Rionna seem peaceful, a place the older male knew by heart. And yet, despite his attempts to find respite in the Redwoods, he had lately had his fair share of run-ins with wolves he would rather not. It had been an eventful few weeks, going from land to land in search of employment, in search of reason, in search of some sort of fulfillment. Maybe it was the nature of work amidst the backdrop of the war that permeated all lands. Maybe it was the feeling of knowing he had fathered a daughter… a daughter that but a month ago he had stumbled upon. He was sure she was his… and that thought bothered him. He had been so negligent towards her all her life… absent in every possible way, and she turned out to be so much like him. Had he failed, by not being there for her, all these years? And yet… to involve himself with her, would it imperil her life, a life that, in his estimation, she seemed very much to enjoy?

There was a sudden yelp near a rarely traveled path Savard trekked, one he took to avoid places he knew to. But of course… it was him who was closest. He wanted to walk away, knowing the tradition of highway wolves to draw good samaritans in, only to rob them, or worse. But not along a part of the Redwoods like this. And the voice… it sounded beyond distressed, and young too. There was a pull within Savard like no other, one that was foreign to him. Was this… empathy? Was that what it felt like to consider others genuinely? Or was it mere foolishness on his part? He had spent so many years avoiding traps he knew to be obvious… but this was the one time, in all his years… he could not walk away. He had to follow it.

It didn’t take long for him to come upon a grizzle sight. A large, older wolf had in his clutches a pup, a young pup, who was bleeding badly. He called out for help, for someone to save his life. And dangling on the ground amidst the foliage, soaked in blood and pain… it was a sight that should have been routine for Savard. He had seen far worse in his days, done far worse for that mattered. But it was at that moment, he remembered the words he had heard but a few short weeks ago, words that at that time mean t nothing to him, but now seemed to resonate within him.

Don’t stand there and pretend that it doesn’t affect you.

That fucking Jacobite. She felt the working class wolves of this realm owed her some great service. And yet… as Savard saw this kid struggle for his life against the jaws of a deranged beast of a wolf… one that reminded him of a wolf he knew long, long ago… there was a part of him that felt different then. If it were his daughter… the daughter who to that moment did not know her father for certain, even if it were different vice versa… how could he stand by? Was this a means to right but one of his many wrongs in his life? To become involved in a fight that didn’t concern him, to do something because it was righteous? Whatever this pup had done…l whether he was disobedient, unruly, disappointing… he didn’t deserve the fate he had. In the clutches of strangers, deformed, fighting desperately for his own life on his own. Savard, whether either of them liked it or not, was the only chance he had. Maybe the Jacobite had a point after all. Maybe… there was some idea of righteousness that made wolf do things for others. Was this… right?

Savard’s body moved quicker than his mind did, as he blindsided the larger wolf with a savage leap. No words were exchanged. Hell, Savard was not even thinking as he did what he did, letting pure instinct dictate his actions. He had done it before, eviscerated full families, maimed and killed without end… but this one, this was different, even if he would not want to admit it. Maybe a part of him felt he did it for a reward that he knew might come, or maybe he did it to let Rionnach’s underworld know that pups were off-limits. He would perhaps be the last to admit, though, that doing what he did was because it felt like the right thing to do.

Lachlan O’Conaill//i am the monster in your head.

The boy cried for help again but that wasn't going to stop Lachlan. As he grabbed him up by his tail he tightened his grip so hard that the whole thing came off. But he wasn't finished. He spat the tail out onto the ground and bared his fangs again while the pup whirled on him to attempt to fight back. At this, Lachlan laughed and took a menacing step forward. He could practically taste taste the fear now and he could see it in the tears that rolled down the boy's face.

Before he could make another move, something barreled into him.

With a grunt, Lachlan sidestepped then toppled over onto his side. Confusion swirled within his mind as he looked up at the stranger, teeth still bared. "What the fuck?!" he snapped. He hadn't expected to be blindsided like that but now he was in a vulnerable position. He curled his body slightly to protect his stomach and folded his ears as he snapped his jaws upwards at the stranger-- perhaps this was the pups father. He had no interest in fighting a larger wolf today but it seemed the universe had other plans.

"Fuck off!" he spat, glaring daggers at the wolf above him as he snapped his jaws towards his face again.

"Lachlan speaks."

art and table by hale.

The wolves collided with enough force to send the pup-killer flying, and into an aggravated fit of rage. If he had stopped to notice, Savard might have had a chance to read into the wolf’s odd behavior. It was not one of surprise or regret… but of fury, of anger, that he dared to be disturbed in his activities. It was a sign of the cruelty that harbored within this wolf’s soul, a cruelty that made his life forfeit to any wolf willing to take it. Savard had had his chance to assess this wolf, and had passed it up. Something else was driving him now, something not so much base as it was repressed. Something dee down inside him, after all these years, so badly wanted out, and he let those instincts drive him, rather than anything else. He wasn’t even aware of his own actions, he would relent to admit, even if those actions might be seen as righteous to some.

This wolf wanted to be left alone, if his words were but any indication. Were Savard a hero, he might try to morally grandstand this wolf, might show how protective and good he was. But deep down, he knew he was none of those things. He was just as terrible a wolf as this one was. The only difference was, that Savard’s own cruelties were much more repressed. “What’s the matter,” Savard spat, his tone dripping in an uncharacteristically infuriated venom, “you’re not afraid to kill a pup, but too afraid to die?” With that, Savard renewed his attack, going right for the wolf’s shoulder, in an attempt to pin him. But if that gleam in his eyes was anything, it was not one of giving the pup a chance to get away. No… it was much more than that. Something deep inside brought him back to his younger days, his younger instincts, the way he used to do things. He wasn’t going to subdue anyone.