always

oh your hands can heal, your hands can bruise. I don't have a choice but I'd still choose you.

Victory. Triumph. The knowledge of knowing he had once more succeeded in defending Spirane from young wolves seeking their piece of power sat comfortably upon Alcide’s shoulders. He did not walk with his chest puffed out or a look of smug arrogance upon his face. No; instead the alphen limped along in a slightly relaxed manner. His ears pressed forward, constantly alert to the sounds around him. But he carried his head in a comfortable manner, not concerned with showing his rank at this point in time. His tail loosely waved out behind him, no longer curled over his back as it had been as he had waited for Arlo to back down and accept defeat. Alcide’s experience had won out yet again, and the older wolf knew perfectly well that if he had to fight too many more of these battles he would need to call upon another member of the pack to aid in defending the throne. He just knew he had to hold out for two more years, until Daenery’s training was nearly complete and she would come of age to ascend to her rightful place as queen.

Lucky for him, Alcide’s injuries were centralized to his front left limb. Puncture wounds caused slight swelling on his left pectoral muscle and the back of the forelimb stung slightly from the loss of hair and skin a a small region. Worst of his injuries lay just above where his paw and leg connected, where Arlo had liberated a chunk of flesh from his limb. It still seeped blood, because the movement of walking back towards Spirane’s borders prevented it from properly clotting and beginning to scab. As he limped along, openly favoring the limb and mostly hopping along on three limbs, he suddenly lifted his head a fraction of an inch higher. He paused mid stride and inhaled, testing the air. Blood, dried blood that was not his own; it drifted on the breeze from just north of him and before he could even move to investigate the source her call rang out across the mountain. Rhoedias.

Alcide did not know Rhoedias that well, but her mate – rest his soul – had been brother to Alcide’s. The news that Rhoedias had lost a battle to his former adversary – Tesseract – had reached the mountain’s alpha only days before he had met his own challenge. It had not given him time to seek her out and offer her solace and safety. But clearly she had come seeking it anyways. Quickening his stride he jogged along on three legs – an interesting sight to say the least. He crossed back into Spirane and then made his way along the border until he saw her just ahead. A pup sat at her side, and Godric had already arrived on the scene. He slowed then, relieved to see his brother tending to things as he should while Alcide was incapacitated. It was a reassuring thing, knowing he had made the right choice in quickly promoting his brother to be his right paw in all things concerning pack.

Finally he reached them, and he went to her immediately, pressing his nose into her shoulder. “Rhoedias, I am so sorry for your loss. Please come further into the pack lands so that Godric may see to your injuries properly,” he said as he withdrew from the brief embrace. Glancing at the pup, his head tilted slightly to the side. This was not Ravenwing, who had sheltered here with his mother when Silvertongue had battled for Glorall. He disregarded the thought and instead chose to introduce himself to the boy. “I am Alcide, and who are you?” he inquired. Though he was exhausted from the effort put forth in the fight, he would heed the pup, for clearly Rhoedias cared for him if she had extracted him from Glorall to bring him here. Alcide nodded to Rhoe and Godric in turn and then pivoted, limping forward to lead them to a more secure location within the packlands before Godric saw to what ailed her.

alcide | sixteen | moonglow | polaris of spirane
sleekwing, swallowbane, orca, daenerys, ceal, taliesin | ♥