if you don’t mind, it don’t matter
She will not attack, no, no. This They are sure of. Safe They say, for him to walk within Iromar with the female of white whom once he had walked beside so many years ago. No, she will not attack, for she has no reason to. He causes no harm, brings no threat, wanders merely because he can with his body so ungainly, paws to big and limbs to long. Perhaps he simply seeks the company this day, for indeed he is alone within this world now. He daughters are gone, his son is gone, his imprint has passed into a world he cannot follow and even his Kismet lingers no longer. They are here, yes, for always They are here, yet perhaps he cannot speak only always to Them, perhaps some part of himself seeks the company of others, even if it is for a time most short. There is much to be done in Iromar, reasons so many for the arrival of the old male upon that plain of fog and mist. Once, long ago he had led the wolves of Moladion to life and perhaps he has come to do so again, though in a way most different. He has come to Iromar, for he must, there is much to be done, though for now his silvery gaze rests upon the white wolfess whom once he had served in a land of caves and darkness. She sat as he did, his form relaxed and easy as always, his grin a gentle, lopsided thing that showed only the ease of his nature and the calm of himself- for truly there are few creatures upon this earth as he, so few who simply do not judge, who do not blame, who remain ever gentle in all ways. It matters not what Ruvindra has done, or what They say she will do, no, he looks upon all in a way most kind for almost all are worthy of being understood by his funny mind.
He spoke first of the white-eyed one, words a jumble as always they are given to be, Mind seeming to skip and dance as the mist itself, silver gaze turned abruptly skyward as if he quite forgets he has company. Eyes are most distracted this day, there are many things Eyes wish to look upon and he finds himself willing to begin this observation. It is not rudeness, not truly, for he intends no disrespect, his Mind is simply captured by the sky above and indeed during such times it is often impossible to shift from such a thing. Yet, Ears move still, twisting with the sound of her voice, telling Mind and Eyes that he must look back again, that he is being spoken too. Finally it would seem his attention returns, silver gaze, slightly clouded perhaps, resting gently n Ruvindra once more as she speaks of this Paldor, though the name he does not yet know. He smiles indeed, easy, lazy as he nods to her words.
“Yes, perhaps. Good or bad, They say it matters not so much. Good for some things, bad for others. Very good, yes, yes but….”
His head tilted once more, ears twisting upon his overly fluffy form to listen indeed to the voices it would seem only he can hear as he mumbles to himself once more, appearing indeed to have forgotten entirely he is mid-sentence before his gaze returns.
“…sometimes not.”
Clearly he has no desire to further explain the near ridiculous words. Surely all are good and bad sometimes? Indeed, it would appear a foolish thing to say and yet, how many would truly ignore the words of He who led them to their safety? The last wolves to ignore such ramblings had burned in fire and heat as They had warned. Once more he is content to unleash a storm of rambling words upon her, for indeed it would seem that today They have much to say. The white female is silent, perhaps given to think of this which he says within her mind alone and indeed he finds no qualm in this, nodding softly as his ramblings fade into mutters once more and he rises again, Ruvindra content to accompany him as he wades further into the pack on some apparent search for…something. He falls silent in these moments, silver gaze flicking as he ambles and stumbles about. He is old now indeed and perhaps more of his nature then is clear is given to eccentricity and yet perhaps not, it cannot truly be said. He continues his unusual stumbling, how he does not trip and fall truly is a marvel in itself- yet he never does, he merely blunders onward as Ruvindra speaks again and he moves, slightly, to allow the silver and black of his pelt to press against a moment for indeed They say she needs this thing, for a moment, just a moment, a touch, to remember, perhaps, she is not so alone. They do not forget.
“Balance will come, yes, I will start it, yes, yes, but They will finish it. Always balance will come, that is the way of life, yes.”
With or without him, balance will come, it would seem They have merely brought him here to start this thing as he pauses abruptly, eyes staring intently at Ruvindra’s paws beside him for several moments, speaking in response to her words though his eyes do not lift from her snowy feet.
“Will meet Paldor, yes, mate of Ruvindra for now, for always perhaps but not forever. Yes. Now is a good time.”
He frowns once more, head tilting slightly as more garbled words manage to run into his acceptance of her offer to meet this Paldor.
“They say Paws of Ruvindra are trying to walk backwards, but Paws do not go back, no, no. They are sorry, that you cannot go back. Cannot……change what has been.”
Once more it is entirely to her own interpretation as to what, if anything, he may mean by this before he simply falls silent once more, apparently content to let her lead the way as those silver eyes turn skywards again, lost entirely in his own world.
DUDE
14 Years || No Mate || No Imprint || Hero of Old Moladion |