Not War til Blood Falls -LaNcE-

[::Fox::]

Everything was falling apart. It didn't take eyesight to see it or a vision to predict it. Storm didn't need any of that unnatural gunk to see that everything he had known was going to change and change fast. These days his mind ran a million miles an hour, processing, investigating, interpreting. Nothing made sense and if anything else changed, Harthorn would be turned upside down. No vision had floated to him to whisper this in Storm's ear because he didn't need it. He didn't need to ask June or walk in a dream to see it, didn't need physical eyes or the "third eye." Normal instinct did just fine. One dead alpha was enough to start a war, two was enough to spur pure chaos. Guess what? Two alphas were dead. Chaos was on the horizon. Alliances were changing, Storm could feel it almost like a physical thing, a knowledge ground into him that he couldn't remember learning. The Celes were walking that fine line between chaos and grief. Storm couldn't go into the Underground anymore, surrounded by not only his alphess' immeasurable grief but also the grief of his entire pack at Romeo's death. He had been no war alpha, no warrior but he had been their friend, a companion, an emotional rock, steady in all this turmoil. He was gone and the Celes were buckling. Mercy was falling into her own despair and Feuer was one of the most absent betas Storm had ever known. Everything was falling apart.

Pacing in the human's park not far from the Underground, Storm struggled to find a solution, find some hope to feed his grieving pack. He couldn't keep avoiding them but their sorrow was suffocating. Mercy's sorrow alone was enough to make the aura-seer shrink back but the entire pack was making him buckle. Storm couldn't afford to fall. He needed to see June, if only in the metaphorical sense. She was always stable, always ready to steady him when emotions or visions threatened to overwhelm him as they so often did. June wasn't there though. She wasn't waiting in the Underground or in this park or anywhere Storm could get to her. She was back at the Church, serving the Paladins, biding her time until she could escape and join him and the Celes. Storm was on his own and he was floundering, a drowning man that barely knew how to swim.

Turning another curve in his pacing circle, Storm kept his head down so humans woudln't easily spot his sightless, pupil-less eyes. His grey and white fur was thickening for the impending winter but the handsome toned figure was still easily defined among the lengthening fur. His husky build and handsome face wouldn't bother humans but the blind eyes would. It was second nature to keep his head down outside of the Underground. There, sight didn't matter, in the gloomy bowels of Harthorn. Here it meant everything. It meant humans calling the pound, thinking they were doing him a favor getting him put down or adopted to a "loving" human family. They didn't know, at least Storm didn't think they knew, that sending a dog to the pound was a death sentence, a sentence he couldn't afford. Not now, not with the Celes needing as many sane members as possible, not when his alphess was in emotional turmoil.

"There has to be a way to fix this," Storm murmured as he paced, sightless eyes seemingly looking at the grass under his paws. Mercy wanted war with the Demeron, revenge for her mate's death. Storm couldn't blame her but he had to stop her. The Celes couldn't turn their anguish into bloodlust or everything would go wrong. They'd charge into battle blind, Mercy would be an easy target and Feuer had so little control of his powers, Storm doubted he'd be able to survive practiced Demeron. What would happen then? Akoni and Rave had disappeared, Ariel had never really shown the promise of a future alphess, the pack would crumble and that was now what Romeo wanted, Storm knew it. He'd sensed it, Romeo's last thoughts, last moments, his intentions to save everyone and stop the bloodshed not start it.

Stopping his restless pacing, the husky turned his head skyward even though he couldn't see it. Weak autumn sunlight dripped over his fur, seeping into the thick coat now that he wasn't moving. He wished he could see it, really see the sun he felt so well, see the humans he heard in the distance, see the buildings he knew loomed all around him. If the world was going to end, Storm didn't want to die in the darkness he lived in.

Shaking his head, the husky turned his head down again. Moving slowly, he found his way to one of the many trees that studded the Harthorn Park. Finding its roots, Storm moved until he found a patch of grass not marked by above ground roots. Sitting back on his haunches, the grey and white canine slid his front legs forward into a sphinx pose and laid his wolfish-head on his outstretched front legs. He could feel the difference between shade and sun, sightless eyes tracking the occasional flicker of a canine aura. Most of them were far enough away that Storm knew it was just strays dashing through alleys outside of the park or ones being walked by their humans. Lucky bastards. They didn't have to worry about dying or pleasing their alphas even though it made no sense. Still, Storm wouldn't trade his stray freedom for anything. He'd made the mistake of trusting a human and another canine too much. His own kin, kin he hadn't thought of in a long time.

Closing his eyes, Storm pushed away the thoughts of the Traitor, ignoring mental images of the last dog he'd ever seen as human scientists had dragged him away, drugged him and blinded him. To think, Storm used to call him brother. The dog that had left him in the lab to die, blind, overloaded by his powers and nearly dying multiple times when he finally escaped. The Traitor had no name anymore, just a foggy face Storm tried so hard to forget and a voice that used to make him feel confident and sure. It was a waste of time to think of him but sometimes Storm couldn't help it. He didn't want to though. He wanted that dog to stop haunting him, stop walking in his shadow, making Storm doubt himself and feel uncontrollable rage when he woke from nightmares. He didn't want anything to do with it.

Closing his mind off to those hazy memories, Storm focused and relaxed his mind, trying to drop off into a doze despite his public sitting. He needed to let everything go if he was going to help the Celes, he had to be willing to lose it all.

[Cursed Heavens {Uzuri Grace}]

hopes... dreams....

nothing in our hearts..

matches to our wrath

[/i]

The day was half over by the time he finally came to the park. A dog, a husky dog watched from the clearings, seeing dogs with their humans as he was in the shadows of the tree lands. He kept himself hidden, ignoring the dry leaves on the trees falling lightly down. Their stems tangling with his grey and white coat. Lance kept his eyes on the 'mutts' he calls them. If there is something he hates more than he does this pathetic war its dogs being beside their humans. It's hard for him to watch dogs yipping in delight when a human throws a ball or them beside each other. Every time he looks at them for a while he gets nauseous. Really its pathetic how dogs like that be so dumb. It's just a pathetic rubber thing humans through or those plastic flat round things. They are worse than cats.

Well you can say he doesn't like housepets as much as pack dogs. Why he hates them is beyond the diluted minds of those weak brains. There are four packs that exist in this city. Lance hates Demeron the most because that pack only holds daemons and if you see one that isn't is a dog that is going to be their meal, if its female the dog is most likely a slave to bear their children. It disgusts him how they can eat their own kind, it makes his hate for them burn like a forest fire. One little spark can burn down the whole forest. Just like Lance, one simple thing in his past started that fire of hate inside and its slowly getting bigger. Lance would like no more than to save those dogs in Demeron but he has no power to be able to help them. This husky, he helps everyone in need, his friends, family, even strangers he would help them. He is a noble gentleman, the kind of guy that makes and keeps promises. This dog does not lie.

Why he would hate Celes and Paladin is because they shelter those daemons. It's not the fact that they are changed because of humans, he doesn't give a rat's ass about those humans since he simply stopped caring about them. No, the reason why he hates daemons are far deeper than them being more powerful than him or having abilities that a dog should never posses, far deeper than all reasons a dog could think of. Yet he does like the way Paladin thinks, they want justice, not revenge like the Morgs. Who knows the Celes Pack's reasons but he will not want to know, too secretive for his liking. The reason why he hates all for of these packs is far greater reason than losing a mere family member. These four packs only brings chaos and suffering to this city. Because of them loners are losing their home, the balance is disrupted and so many dogs are falling to their deaths. So many dogs that suffer, too many for only him to save.

Lance turned and padded away slowly, just walking through the thin woodland instead of being out there. His throat is dry and his stomach is growling. Since he came here he might as well find a pond and drink while he goes to catch something for him to eat. He wondered who he would help this time, how many daemons would fend to protect the fems. Lance knew it would be impossible for him to protect all the loners from the Demerons but he will try his best to protect as many as he can. His walking form was gentle, graceful, his face relaxed and free, unlike his thoughts. Eyes, warm as the sun and trusting as the moon. He isn't called the Gentleman for nothing you know. Of course he won't walk like most dogs, won't walk like an alpha either, his eyes and style of walking does not hold such power. This power it holds, the power of his soul is directed only for defense.

He came to the pond near to where he noticed that grey and white husky went into. Lance only saw the dog from the distance but he detected a familiar scent but he figured it was only because of the daemon scent. It disgusted him that there was a daemon in this park. He should hurry up here and take his prey to one of the homes he made for himself in this city. Lance originally thought about catching something and eat here but since he detected there was a daemon nearby he should take his leave. Daemons reek and make his fur stand on end. They actually make him want to really vomit than seeing dogs and humans together. Lance lapped at the water, glad for the liquid that was strengthening his senses, it would be easy to find prey now. Though it means he would detect the daemon scent better it is good to know that the sooner he finds something to eat the faster he would be out of here. He went to turn to the opposite route to where the daemon was. Lance felt the wind change and got more of the scent. He stopped, his heart skipped a beat, no fucking way was that possible, he knows that scent yet there was no way. Lance turned around and howled to where the daemon was, the gentleman looking like he was being very offended by another dog. "Come out, Daemon!" Lance wasn't sure if the dog was him or not but he just needs to see him to prove his heart is wrong.

[/color][/blockquote][/blockquote][/blockquote]

[::Fox::]

For whatever reason, bad thoughts kept floating through Storm's haphazard mind. He hated this chaotic state he was in, unable to even calm his own mind. What good was he to his pack, to June or even to himself if he couldn't control the most fundamental part of himself? Storm kept trying to stack away thoughts and memories of the Traitor but it was nearly impossible. Even though Storm hadn't thought of Him for several months, the thoughts flowed back as easily as if they were water through a fishing net. It reminded him of when he'd first escaped from the lab, overloaded with the scents, smells, feelings and sounds of his black surroundings. His visions had run ramped with all the dogs and lives around him, auras overloading his sight and dazing him constantly. It had been a bleak time for Storm, filled with bitter thoughts and bittersweet memories blackened by betrayal. His human and his own blood had turned on him, carving a deep painful mark on Storm that lingered still today even though no one saw it and sometimes Storm was also able to ignore it. Sometimes he could ignore it but Storm knew he'd never forget it. Everything boiled down to the betrayal of the two creatures he had trusted the most. Why it was so potent now however, was lost on Storm.

Laying his ears flat against his well crafted skull, the blind brute kept his eyes closed and tried to spread out his other senses. Maybe he could find something to ground himself? Flaring his ears up again, he took a deep breath of crisp autumn air and let it out slowly. Some of the tang of human pollution caught in Storm's lungs, familiar and acidic. Beyond the pollution stink came other smells, humans with their odd perfumes, dogs that smelled like human homes and grass, musty smelling trees that were shedding their bright leaves and the faint smells of the occasional street dog. He burrowed his paws in the grass, under the fallen leaves to feel the soil against his tough paw pads, trying to ground himself to something sure and solid. In the midst of Storm's little "meditation," a scent and the sound of paws made the husky stiffen. Someone was approaching him.

It was no Celes dog that Storm recognized, which meant something since he was one of its oldest members and a sentinel, Storm didn't attempt to relax. He kept his eyes closed, body still, hoping against hope the dog would just go around him, ignore his existence and move on. Storm was used to trouble, he attracted a lot of it for some reason. Sometimes it was because he was a daemon, sometimes because he was blind and an easy target. Most of the time though, it was just a pain in the tail. Either way, it seemed like trouble was stirring again for Storm since the dog didn't go around him. The pawsteps stopped but Storm kept his eyes closed. He had no reason to pick a fight, the dog didn't smell like a Morg, just a normal loner. No daemon, no Demeron. What could a loner want with him?

'Come out, Daemon!'

Damnit. Couldn't he go one day without being bothered about being a daemon? Wasn't like Storm had done it voluntarily.

Turning his head away from where the voice had come from so they couldn't see his face, Storm opened his eyes. The blackness didn't change much, just flickered with the small flames of color signifying different canine auras. Most of them were relaxed and happy, jogging back and forth probably chasing a ball or something thrown by a human. Damn them for having such an easily life.

Slowly, Storm pushed himself to standing and shook himself out, purposefully slow, head turned away from the voice that had called him out as a daemon. Storm knew his eyes were shocking. He'd asked Mercy once, what they looked like. According to her, they were like quicksilver or liquid silver. There was no pupil in Storm's eyes. His eyes were fogged and diluted by the weight of his visions and aura sight. Storm's eyes used to be baby blue, typical of a Siberian husky and identical to the Traitor's which now made him sick to think about. He used to take pride in his eyes. Now his eyes were like polished silver, no pupil, terrifying to some and curious to others but to most, completely unnatural. Now, standing under the tree, Storm turned slowly, purposefully, to the direction the voice had called. He let his sightless eyes sweep the park, taking in the housepet auras before coming to one aura that caught his attention. Red aggression was flickering through this aura, throbbing like an old wound, aggression aimed right at him. Damn it all again. Why did Storm have to be so hated? Why daemons in general? People acted like daemons chose to be freaks, chose to hurt and struggle and feel sheer agony. There was no choice in it. Storm had spent nearly a year in a drug-haze, constantly sedated or exhausted by the drag of his own uncontrolled powers. Never would Storm have done this to himself and yet the world acted like he'd gone to humans begging for it.

Storm didn't speak to the dog with the angry aura. He had no energy for anger right now. He was mourning his alpha, struggling with his odd relapse into the past. If that dog really had a problem with him, let him come to Storm. Storm had never been one to start a fight and that wouldn't start now. He'd get sharp and angry at being called blind or when people tried to help him when he didn't ask for it but usually Storm avoided fighting. His powers hindered him in a fight and this was no different.

Turning away, Storm started to walk away, feeling his way along and moving carefully. He struggled to shake the idea that the aura of the aggressive dog was familiar. The voice tugged at the back of Storm's mind but he refused to acknowledge it.

[Cursed Heavens {Uzuri Grace}]

hopes... dreams....

nothing in our hearts..

matches to our wrath

[/i]

As Lance waited for the daemon to come out he kept on telling himself that it wasn't him. He saw with his very eyes that Storm was being taken away. That day when he was young, he had been shocked to the core and couldn't move. It had paralyzed him. All he did was watch his younger brother being taken away to the labs. When Storm went out of sight Lance recovered from his shock and tried with all his power to save his younger brother. Yet, his master, the one involved with this disgrace held him back, grabbed his color and locked him up in a room. Lance never ate nor did he sleep for days, weeks, months. He had been locked up in that room for so long, every time his master came close to the door or turn the knob Lance snarled and barked furiously, like he was fighting off the devil himself. He couldn't trust his master for what he did to his younger brother. Because he knew that if he did his master would take him away like he did Storm. Yet part of him had wanted it to be, if he was to go to the same place where Storm was he could see and be with his brother once again. Lance had told himself he was too late, that they must of killed him off. One day when his master came close to the door, instead of snarling and barking it was quiet. The door opened and Lance played dead and with the way he was, skinny and un-groomed, even if he had moved he would look dead. So his master took the stinky body out to bury him, when he let him out of the house Lance ran with all the little strength he had.

That was the day he learned more about the daemons. How they reek with a scent so different from any creature and have the mixture of dog. He learned his brother had been taken there, but he heard no one tell him that his brother had ever escaped like the others. That bred the hate for daemons, how could they leave that hellish place but his younger brother that meant the world to him not be able to leave. Storm. His brother was always so happy, so curious and gentle. The day that his brother was taken, he saw fear and pain in his little brother's blue eyes. It hurt a lot, that in which the pain turned to his strength and created a stronger him. A him that would protect all dogs that aren't part of this. He told himself even though he just wanted to die and rejoin with his brother that protecting innocent dogs such as loners that aren't apart of this war was the least thing he could do. Since he had done nothing like his master to stop the humans from taking Storm away.

The daemon came out of its hiding place. Lance's thoughts stopped, his body unmoving. His dark eyes staring at the grey and white husky. That was impossible! It couldn't be. Though it had been so long he and he had changed a lot there was no mistaken those markings. He kept telling himself that it was impossible, that there was no way he could be alive. The dog turned his head to him and opened his eyes. Lance expected those blue eyes to look at him but instead he gets silver orbs with diluted pupils. No, that wasn't possible, his brother wasn't blind, he could see as perfectly as he could. Yet he can't deny the scent was of his brother's. Why he knows so well is because Lance holds something that belongs to Storm's, he kept it in one of the places he stays. Though the scent from the thing was nearly gone now he could still remember its texture from long ago. To have something that belongs to someone, even if the scent was totally gone the dog would remember it because that thing used to have that dog's scent all over it. If he went to scent it so much till it had gone completely you will never forget the scent.

Yet this dog's scent has changed, it had the daemon reek mixed in with the scent. The dog didn't speak but turned and walked away from him. Lance was paralyzed from the shock. He recalled this was like before only that Storm had called his name and begged him and his master not to let them take him. Lance wanted to ask and was about to open his mouth, yet instead he bit his tongue to get himself to move. Pain is the sure way to wake from shock or fear, that's why when dogs goes in shock they would bite themselves to in order to wake from their paralyzing trance. If only he could of done it that time would he have done something to save Storm. Lance closed his ears and clenched his teeth harder with his tongue still in between. A little blood trickled down his lips.

Lance let go and didn't care about his wounded tongue. "Who are you?" he growled, close to a whisper or a mumble. He couldn't bare the thought that his younger brother was alive all this time. Lance couldn't bare the thought his brother had turned into the one thing he hates as much as the packs. He recalled when the dog started to walk away that he detected a scent of many dogs within his own scent and the daemon scent. It held the scent of the underground and oil with those dogs scents. He knew that this dog was part of the Celes Pack. Why though? Why did Storm have to be alive, be a daemon and for that matter be part of this war Lance hates so much. The relief he felt in knowing his brother was alive turned to regret. This was his fault. Lance opened his eyes slowly, sad from the horrible memories and the guilt that he had let this happen. As if it was bad enough that he let his brother being taken away that he had let his brother be turned into a monster... a freak as you will. "I'm sorry little brother," he growled in the same tone as before. Lance turned his head to Storm and barked. "Storm!" He called out to his little brother.

[/color][/blockquote][/blockquote][/blockquote]

[::Fox::]

A tinge of blood made Storm's paws pause, hesitating in their next step away from the weirdo dog with the angry aura. Had the dog been wounded or something? Storm didn't turn to look at the mad dog though, he kept his eyes turned away toward the empty blackness where there were no canine auras. Words made the Celes sentinel's ears twitch. His heart thudded heavily in his ribs. That voice...it sounded...so familiar...Storm shoved the thought away. No. It couldn't be. Storm made sure he'd never be found. He didn't care if the Traitor lived or died. Hoped him dead for all the pain he'd left Storm to feel, all the nightmares, the pain, the burden of blindness. No one would understand Storm's smoldering hate for anyone that was his kin, oh so similar to his hatred of humans. At one time the hatred had nearly driven him mad because it was all he could think about because pain, emotional, mental and physical, had consumed him so completely for so long. Once he'd broken away from that pain by joining the Celes, Storm had been able to heal a little. Now though, for whatever reason, the familiarity of this angry-auraed dog was ripping open old wounds and making them bleed. The next words, a soft raspy apology spoken in a low growl made Storm's gut tighten. It felt like a snake had replaced his innards, constricting and contorting painfully inside of him, leaking venom into his belly, bile stinging the back of his throat. Every muscle in Storm's body wired tight as one more word came from the dog that seemed oh so familiar.

That one word, that name, sent Storm's emotions spiraling wildly. Hate, disbelief, amazement, bitter resentment, cold anger. These emotions flashed and flared in Storm like waves in an storm-stirred ocean. Bitter hate burned cold in Storm's belly, disbelief numbing his limbs, cold fear creeping down his spine. The mix of sensations was unlike any disorienting vision Storm had ever had, including the vision he had had June help him induce. This was beyond anything he'd ever felt in the lab, any sorrow or pain he could have ever endured. Storm's mind balked at the voice that growled his name, shrinking back like a frightened pup as old memories surfaced as the husky stood, petrified by that one word.

Pups playing near their mother while an older sibling loomed nearby to keep an eye on the rowdy ones. Blue eyes so similar to his bright against darker fur, promising they'd be okay without mom. Two huskies chased each other through Harthorn's snow-whitened streets while their human jogged close behind, everyone laughing, everyone happy. Cold bars, dog crates a size too small, the stink of fear clogging his throat. Howling, begging for mercy, those same blue eyes staring at him as he was taken away and drugged, waking up in a black world.

Storm's paralysis wore off as the Celes stiffly turned to face the dog with the familiar aura. His scent washed over Storm almost making him buckle with its familiarity. Bittered by Harthorn's grimy streets, the scent was more acidc than it once was. Still, Storm would know it anywhere. At one time, he might have run to the dog, sought the security the dog had once had to offer. Now though, Storm's pupil-less eyes gazed at the dog's aura head raised in defiance. At one time he might have forgiven betrayal in exchange for aid but, that was a long time ago. Storm now stood tall and strong, sturdy as a weathered-mountain, sightless eyes cutting right through the dog in front of him. For a moment, Storm struggled to find his voice, the voice that had changed so much after days of howling in pain with no one to hear except for the chorus of similar cries from dogs around him, a voice that had rendered itself silent when the pain was just too much.

"I am no one's brother," Storm said finally, voice shaking slightly. "My brother died the day my world went black." His silver eyes regarded the dog's aura, refusing to give it a name. "I see your hate. Take it to someone who cares. I'm not interested in avengers and saviors to daemons. If we're daemons it's because no one gave a damn enough to save us before it was too late. Oh the world cares when we're free, think we'll eat their children. Ha! Maybe if some cared enough to save us before we went away, maybe we wouldn't be so angry, so hurt, so ugly and insane."

Turning away, Storm bit his tongue, resentment strumming through his entire body. He refused to name the dog, even though he knew the name well. He wouldn't say it. He'd wiped it from his vocabulary a long time ago and refused to recall it now. This dog, this dog he knew well, so well it stung and burned to be so close. He wanted to lash out, make the dog hurt, hurt like he did, bleed and howl but that wasn't a good idea. They were in the middle of a park with humans and housepets. Storm knew he wouldn't be able to escape the lab or the pound if he was captured. He had to get away from this dog, go back to the Underground to his grieving pack and lose himself in their sorrow. That would wipe this whole insident from his mind. Strangely though...Storm couldn't move. His mind screamed at him to either turn and leave or leap at the other dog and make him bleed like Storm had bled during and after the labs. The other part of his mind told him to listen, open his heart and think that maybe this dog wasn't as...no. Storm couldn't do that. The roots of betrayal were buried too deep, the scar too old and puckered with festered infections and lack of healing.

So, Storm turned his face away, body so stiff it hurt.

[Cursed Heavens {Uzuri Grace}]

hopes... dreams....

nothing in our hearts..

matches to our wrath

[/i]

Lance watched as the dog stopped and tensed. He clenched his jaw and ignored the world. To him it didn't existed, he cannot see the humans and dogs playing, cannot see or feel the sun's strength coursing through him and telling him how much time would be left till he has to leave for bed. The scents of the plants, the waters taste, the scent of prey he ignored. He no longer felt the hunger in his belly, to him it was already filled up, feeding off of his remorse. The voices of dogs begging for the humans to through the toys or begging for some scraps of food he ignored. They were mute to him, just like those music boxes with moving pictures. All he could hear, scent, see clearly enough was this grey and white husky in front of him. This dog was in deed his brother, even if he looks different from the dog he had seen that day. The wind changed course again, blowing against him on one side while the other went the opposite direction and gave Lance Storm's scent.

His younger brother spoke. In an angry bitter voice. Lance's anger and hatred of daemons vanished, and only left with regret. He knew perfectly well that his brother would hate him for what he did. Lance only felt pain and remorse, if Storm thought that he didn't care about it and didn't feel huge pain he is wrong. He lost the only person that meant everything to him, he was betrayed as much as Storm was. If only his brother knew through the time he was locked up, how he kept thinking, wishing. Storm growled, telling him how everyone doesn't care about the dogs that go to the labs and the bitterness of being forsaken made them this evil.

Lance saw through the words though. He knew it wasn't about dogs or daemons. Storm was telling him how Lance left him in those labs and never tried to save him till it was too late. Lance knew now that his brother's blindness was caused by the labs. His brother really did suffer and is still suffering. Lance clenched his teeth together, so hard that they started to hurt. One eye shed a tear, one single tear... Lance never cried, the only time he did was in that room right after his brother was taken away from him. The happy memories he shared with his brother had shattered. Lance, opened his eyes, a desperate flare in his eyes, not hate, not anger, only great pain, so great that its like lightning. "That's not true, I wanted to save you. I tried to save you." He stopped when he found the dog was trying to walk away from him but was as paralyzed as him.

Some reunion this turned out to be. Lance took a shaky step forward, eyes wide and sad and watered. When he finished the step, his balanced tipped to the side and when he took the second step it tipped to the other side. The cruel emotions was destroying him, making him look terrible. "Storm, please." He begged, why did this have to happen. Did the world hate him and his brother so much that this had to happen. They had such a great connection and now, its limp and broken like a broken and dead body. Lance wondered if the same Storm was still in there, or has the suffering changed him so much.

[/color][/blockquote][/blockquote][/blockquote]

[::Fox::]

Anger flared in Storm like a solar flare from the sun burning in his belly and singing through his veins. His limbs came alive as he leaped away from the advancing dog whom he knew to be a husky. Triangular auds perked up, his tail curled over his back, hackles rose, lips pulled back and a low snarl rumbled in his chest. Snarling wasn't something Storm did a lot. His anger was typically a quiet anger, brewing and festering until it exploded in a long rant that left his opponent either stunned or even more angry. This vocal rage was fed by that age old wound he'd carried and carried today with the lack of his eyesight. This damned fleabag however, had crossed the line. Most dogs made Storm mad because they tried to "help" him without him needing help or without asking for it. This damned waste of breath had overstepped that long before being blind was even a freaking issue. He didn't get it. Didn't understand. How could he? He'd never hurt, never felt abandoned, never felt insane. He'd never been called a freak, a monster, a filthy creature unfit to live. Dogs had chased Storm, beaten the fact into him that he was a daemon and that being such made him worse than any murdering rapist on earth even though he'd done absolutely nothing. This dog thought he knew Storm's pain, thought a sorry half-assed apology could cover it. Oh he was so very very wrong.

"You didn't do anything!" Storm snarled, snapping his jaws. "You watched! I know you did! It was the last fucking thing I saw! I've saved dogs from those labs you good for nothing piece of shit, I've guided them out and I can't even fucking see! You tried nothing!" His entire body trembled with the force of his anger and hurt, quicksilver eyes flashing dangerously. "I can't lay beside the dog I love at night because I'd go mad with her dreams! I spent a whole year going insane from the pain, being told again and again I was a freak like it was my fucking fault! Dogs like you think you try to help but you don't help anyone! You persecute and say you tried to help but you did nothing! Nothing until dogs like me are strapped down and drugged nearly to death while humans pick at our brains! I don't want your pity or your sorry apology, I don't want to see your sorrow because you think you've suffered! You died a long time ago and that's not changing."

Storm could feel himself trembling, almost like a vision was about to attack him but, he knew that wasn't it. He felt emotionally drained. He longed for June's soothing aura or even his pack's grieving wails. Anything but this. The burned out anger slithered from Storm, replaced by a deep old ache in his gut, a hollowness he'd carried since he'd escaped the lab. When Storm looked at Lance, the auras were sharper, clearer, stabbing at his eyes, accusing him, reminding him with each throb of life that they were all he would ever see until the day he died. He wouldn't see June unless he braved her nightmares of jumping into the ocean that scared him more than anything else in the world. Water was Storm's true vice, a place he dared not tread because it robbed him of all orientation his other senses gave him. In water there was no sound, no true up or down, only a distinct lack of air and the promise of death.

"I want nothing to do with you," Storm murmured after a long quiet. "Just go away. Back in my memories where you belong, memories I don't want to remember. I don't need you anymore, you or anything you represent." Straightening up, Storm pulled himself together as best he could, walls up behind his sightless eyes, guarded and cloaked in a forced half composure. "I found what I need in perfect strangers. They protect their own, not abandon them."

Storm forced himself to move, turning away from the traitor and moving away. He moved warily, as if he'd come fresh from battle. His leading paw would skim the ground briefly to make sure there was nothing he'd step on or trip on. This was an instinct now, something Storm barely noticed but that gave him a distinctive gait, one purposeful and normally unhindered. Now though, his stride was stiff, silver eyes lowering as a few humans glanced their way, the humans' pet dogs jogging past Storm after a ball. Storm ignored the housepets and they ignored him but humans didn't need to see his eyes. When the housepets were gone, Storm didn't raise his head. There was no point. He just continued on, desperate to get away from sour memories but unable to move much faster for some reason unknown to him.

The husky came to a stop when a familiar aura flickered. Raising his head, Storm looked toward the edge of the park. From the distance, Storm assumed the dog was standing on the street across from the park, angled toward it, looking for something. The traitor temporarily forgotten, Storm swerved his ears. The vibrant colors could be only one dog, Vegas, the Celes Pack scout. If the traitor tried anything, Storm knew he had an ally nearby, probably coming to collect him on Mercy's request. Storm stood, between Vegas whom was standing outside of the park and the traitor behind him. A delicate balance. A step toward Vegas and Storm knew he'd break whatever tie he had to the traitor but, he hesitated. He heard Vegas bark but didn't reply, didn't move. Vegas went quiet, curiosity flickering through the shepherd's aura. Storm didn't move.