Pan is entirely convinced his Brothers call could have been made in a far superior location. The golden male paused in his endeavours, his attempts to re-route an entire section of the river having resulted –so far- in no more than sopping paws and a wet underside and yet, the incorrigible young male is utterly convinced that with sufficient perseverance he will succeed. Frowning, the obsidian-eyed warrior turned away from his project, leaping up easily onto the bank and shaking the water from his outrageously glorious sun-lit pelt, hues of copper and beaten gold danced and shimmered within the morning sun as the powerful young male broke into a lope. His limbs grew longer each day, his muscle grew toned and hard, the truth of his blood evident in his power and strength, the result of his Amazonian Mother and the speed and grace of his sire long since deceased in the fall of the sky and longer still forgotten to the mind of Pan, adopted son of Bahamut and Brother of Weylin. Indus and Wild Justice had not understood their son, they had done what they could, done what they knew and yet neither had been capable of understanding the brilliance of a mind so intricate and detailed, a mind so far advanced and beyond that it both blessed and cursed their golden son to a life like no other. Pan is not like other young males, he is not like other young wolves. Bahamut had understood, Seven had understood and indeed Pan believes, in some way, Weylin understands that he is- different, that he will never be quite like any other and for that reason Pan had come to Weylin’s call, had joined his older brothers ranks with Seven, his brother of blood beside him, the boys even more inseperable and now with Salem at their sides.

Today however, Pan is alone, having left Seven to sleep beneath the shade of the trees, his earthen brother has grown so tall Pan is entirely convinced that this type of energy expenditure has rendered his younger sibling permanently exhausted and for that reason- he should be left to sleep, so that he can continue to grow. Pan however is unable to consider rest for any longer then appropriate. The world is filled with glory and wonder, the world is a place of questions to be answered and solved and already his mind twists and turns, coal black eyes taking in each and every feature of his river home as he treks across it with expert ease, paws nimble and quick despite his growing bulk. After all, Pan has devised a method with which to utilise his weight and limbs to perform any movement with exceptional accuracy and speed. He cannot help what he is or what he does, he cannot help that his mind does not- will not – see the world as others around him. Just as he cannot help the way his mind finds wonder in the simplest of things, how it turns each creature before him into a character in a story all his own that runs like a stream in the back of his conscious. There is no one quite like Pan.

His pace increased as he approached the hill, jogging up with a subtle ease before slowing to a walk as he created the stop, gorgeous grin alighting his features to beam towards his blackened brother and the two younger males who lingered close beside him, their scents foreign, not of the river and yet holding a touch of Weylin all the same, concluding easily within Pan’s mind that they are Pack, if nothing else. He paused long enough to swing into a flamboyant and graceful bow, lifting one paw in a sweeping motion of greeting before grinning with gleaming white fangs back towards them, the golden boy of Glorall.

“Hello there lads! I’m Pan, Weylin and Seven’s brother and Prodigy of the Glorall Pack.”

His words were smooth, easy and clear yet laced with the deeper tones of a man instead of a child, his high-pitched, boyish voice finally starting to break into something better suiting his size. He moved forward then, ears lacing back in respectful ease to brush against his black brother. He has heard the murmurings about Bedwyr and yet he keeps these rumours within his mind. Rumours are not fact and Pan refuses to acknowledge anything less than solid evidence and for that reason he maintains his silence for a later time in which he will speak with Weylin alone about their missing Comrade. He turned in that instant, stepping back from the affectionate embrace of his sibling, to allow his obsidian eyes to fall onto the older of the two younger boys, his stare unwavering and unashamed. After all, for all his intelligence, for all the brilliance and sheer magnificence of a mind so far developed...the boy lacks social pleasantries. Emotion confuses him, social norms baffle him and for this reason he is often misunderstood. He does not mean to be rude, he cannot comprehend that staring is considered impolite, his mind does not see it, he sees only (with awe and fascination) that he is in the presence of a cripple! Fantastic! Of course, he is capable of manners and easy charm, when he chooses to think on it, his mind however, tends to absorb itself entirely with his point of interest, which, in this moment, has become Ajax.

“Your legs!?”

It is an exclamation, a statement, not truly a question at all and yet the stunning golden male continues all the same, moving to sit in front of his pack-mate with unashamed curiosity and an easy confidence, one that is often perceived, wrongly, as arrogance.

“Please, remove that child’s fur from your tongue and prepare to engage yourself in conversation and truly, forgive me my forwardness but your state of being is an utter fascination. Tell me, how did this incident occur? Can you run? Do you find yourself frequently incapable of solid and forward perpetual motion?”

The grinning golden male turned in that moment towards the pup at the older wolves paws, head lowering towards the young male, his brilliant mind already having failed to remember that others often do not understand him, that he speaks to fast, that his words do not make sense, especially not to others so young.

“And you, small one, did you find his motion to be stable or somewhat....jolted?”

His attention returned to Ajax, having waited only long enough for an answer from the child before his mind sped forward again, his excitement obvious.

“Would you allow me to examine your limbs?”

p a n
3 years ~ No Mate ~ No Imprint ~ Indus x Wild Justice ~ 31in 139lbs ~ Glorall