He remembers as he walks back along the path of dust and ashes of what had been pressed into his memories so young. It's not all the same but much of it was, and he misses the warm embrace of a mother who had been there, a mother he would never be so close to again. He wanted to know her again, yes. But it was what he'd been used for by his captors that made him not want to be around any females for fear that he would do something horrible or wrong. He never had but by default, of course. Natural charm had been woven into his dna, and it shone through like some pretty beacon.

Solitaire had been used as a lure. A creature sent out to find and bring back lone females. Young, old, didn't matter. Do whatever he had to in order to get them closer to the vagabonds. And he hated it when it happened, all the things that then might be done to them. It made him ache inside to be that creature, to be the one to bring them down like that. He had wished he was stronger, more able to break free of it all, but he hadn't been. Not for a long time. Then there had been three of them with whispered words of getting out, getting back. Three of them from the same area that wanted out.

Finally, one of them had made a ruckus -- Crven -- and they had been able to run off with the help of Rainbow Eyes. There hadn't been words passed during the whole ordeal, and then they'd split up to try and return in their own ways. For the most part, he had stalked after -- followed at a secretive distance with no intent to harm or bother -- Rainbow Eyes, and he knew that Miš hadn't been far behind them. Crven had gone ahead, had fled from Rainbow Eyes, who seemed much more interested in the reddish one to begin with. Not that Soli minded any, because he did not. Miš probably hadn't cared at all since being saved.

Glorall. A distant memory of the name pressed itself into his mind. That was the name of this place. And his name was Solitaire, not Mjesto as they had called him back there. He was sure that both Crven and Miš had other names, real names too. He simply did not know them, as they did not know his. So he would wipe the dust and misuse off his real name by birth and wear it again. The other name came with pain, the sense of loss and so much guilt. He did not want to guilt anymore. He did not want those things of his past. He wanted -- wished for -- a brighter future, a warmer home life. A settled, non-moving home life.

And he looks for her, his mother. The one who he had gotten his mask from, the mis-match of his eyes, though they were of different colors than hers. He was lightly marked with funny spotty batches at his hips. But he had been well liked for his markings and looks, and he knew that he had been luckier than some of the others. He'd had a more kind overlord, one who hadn't tried anything more unseemly than asking him to lure the females back. Unhappy times, but he had gotten out more unscathed than most, and he was grateful for that. But now that he was back in Glorall and searching, he's full of uncertain nerves.

He does not know what to expect, or what he will find. Yet it's in a little gathering that not only does he spot his mother, but his sister, too. There's excitement over his features now, erasing the nerves from his system as he bolts to them, remindig himself to slow at the sight of an obvious alpha there. He resumes slowly, head down, respectful, but having only eyes for his mother and sister. After a moment of feeling something tense in the air, Solitaire settles to the ground and waits for his mother or sister to recognize him, or the alpha to say something to him. Either one he would respond to, but for now he does wait.

[ male ] [ one ] [ unmated ] [ unimprinted ] [ glorallian ]