s a b r i e l
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Sabriel had been raised by the gypsies, and he remebered fondly how it had been. He remembered his adoptive mother Pompeii, his fathers, Hawthorn and Alice. He missed his brother Dimitri and how things used to be. It felt like so long ago, and although he had tried the pack life, it had never taken. There were days where he wished it could have, where he might have settled down somewhere with Micteca and been what he needed to be. But his heart yearned for the gypsy life more, and that stung enough to remind him that he had lost nearly everything. He had lost Micteca and the gypsies, and now he was alone save for Kellin. And Kellin did not truly belong. Sabriel wanted more for the younger male.

He had been a newborn when the meteors had hit, one of the few saved. Part of him had been guilt-ridden that Pompeii's other two biological children had not survived it, but there had only been so many mouths to grab the children. His own birth mother had died that day as well, so many lives had been lost. He doesn't know who had actually saved him, knowing that there had been some guilt to Tarquin's gaze when it landed on him for weeks after the entire thing. Sabriel understood what it meant, what it was for. The russet father had chosen Dimitri when it had come down to it. Sabriel did not hold a grudge, however. If it had come down to it, he would have wanted Dimitri to make it if it had cost him his own life.

Why he did not know Orca was anyone's guess. He had been there for awhile, only roaming a little as he grew, and roaming more until he returned to them all. He always did return back then. He'd been there even with his fathers had taken to a pack; Sabriel belonged to the gypies by then. He still did, even if he was the last to keep roaming within Moladion. That did not make him any less happy to be greeted by the once-gypsy female, and his tail was going at a cheerful pack behind him when she spoke. "And to you, gypsy sister." Though he doesn't rightly know if that's what she was if she lived now within a pack. Still, he won't take the greeting away. It still meant something, and he would honor that.

She was telling him who she was, and asking why he had come to the mountains today.-- "I'm Sabriel, son of Tarquin, Makism, and adopted of Pompeii. I've come to see if any of those from Diveen have seen Micteca. I just want to know she's alright." He paused now, however, because he hadn't anticipated on meeting another once-gypsy around, and that was quite a surprise to him. "Might I ask why you are no longer a gypsy? I've been trying to find them.. do you know where they've gone? There's no trace of Uncle Hawthorn or Aunt Alice... none of them.." He looked sad, thinking about it, but he was trying not to let it get to him too deeply. But they had been his family, and they were all gone now..


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male -- eleven -- mate to none -- soulbound to anemone -- gypsy