yesterday, today, and tomorrow never foretold

His encounter with Godbrand had given him much to stew on, unfortunately. It had yet to drive him fully from the forests he knew best, though. Even bizarre grief withstanding, it was something. Still home. Always he eventually returned, at least so far... and while sometimes he devoted more time to combing the new edges, or paid no mind when one woodlot bled into the next, it still was where he could feel a bit more at ease.

After whittling his hours away scavenging the edges of the great water, and sometimes fishing where the creeks joined up, his curiosity was sated for now and it felt time to change scenery. Still a bit damp from sea-spray, the yearling turned back to move on towards the hearth as the afternoon rose.

A careless, fluid trot eventually stiffened, downgrading into a walk as he scrutinized. Something had changed in these woods. New, he thought, breathing deep with his nose up at the subtle breeze. But perhaps most importantly, not unfamiliar. It permeated the otherwise solitude he had started to expect, and even the scattered passerbys already.

Weirs wouldn't trust it all so soon. He... needed to know more. At least be sure this was not some new trick of the realm, too. And even if it wasn't, that still left so much unsaid--and unanswered, as far as the youngest prince ever concerned himself.

Setting his teeth tight, he carried on with a new sense, quietly searching as the forests darkened, deepening.

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Heart and crown combined makes for a mighty sword, and Calhoun had spent long enough sharpening his. The elken man sat near the center of the territory, head tilted back to gaze at the filtered rays of light that broke the tree canopy. He had dreamed of this day for so long. The day he could reclaim these woods for something greater and rid the rotten stench of his father's wastes from his nostrils. He expected a fight... a speech to show everyone the truth, but what he found was nothing but ghosts. Everything he once worked for... now handed over on a silver platter.

Movement approached him, and the elder brother would tip his head slowly to watch as Weirs approached. Another ghost. The bastard boy he hardly knew... but then again, he could be considered a bastard too. Their mother may have been royal, but the only royal she proved to be was a royal fuck up. Calhoun's littermates had been, for the most part, blessed. It was unfortunate to see kin bear marks of sin they never knew, especially as this one was almost whole.

“Brother...so you remain.” His words trailed more as a statement than question. What other reason would he be here if he did not? Maybe he even knew what happened to the rest of their family, or perhaps he was another spat here, destined for something more in His light. It may have been cruel, but he hoped it was the latter. “What of the rest?” His nose offered the obvious answer, but it was the simplest way to kill two birds with one stone. If Weirs knew anything, then this would tell him what he needed to know.

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Carried along, his trail rang true as he delved into the depths. As he closed in, more tension came seeping its way into him. He couldn't begin to understand all of the reasons why. When he found sight of his older brother, dressed in unmistakable shades of browns, he stopped soon after.

Weirs had not seen him in a very long time, and neither did he know Calhoun well at all. Many of his older siblings were best treated with a careful skepticism--and that was before the world had folded and shifted. Some had been best avoided entirely, while others were decent enough to his littermates. A few preferred not to see him.. which he had grown to learn was ultimately, fine.

Now faced with him here, after everything, the yearling hoped to summon the composure he had left. Perhaps with it, he might gain some shred of understanding.

It was a sharp look, though, not one of easy fondness that accompanied his nod when his brother addressed him. He did remain. He didn't know why, or how. It just was. “Gone,” he affirmed as for the rest of their family, and the ranks of what was once Elkshire. “The lands changed, and I woke up here to them all gone without a trail.” he justified, his ears planing back at this bitter truth. “I've mostly seen strangers. No family. Only Godbrand, more recently...” Which, Weirs tried not to let his words permeate his thoughts here and now when this was confusing enough.

“When did you get back here?” he asked, eyes and ears trained on his older sibling when he didn't know where else to begin.

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His composure hardly bothered him. Fondness...kinship, seemed to be rare in their family. His siblings were only there as pawns to their mother, and the same could be said of his father. Weirs's, well...no one knew who he belonged to. There had been no one to guide them through love or compassion. He couldn't blame him if he was hesitant to speak. Their mother would rather let him believe it was he who betrayed the High Elk.

But she was no longer in the picture. Only they remained.

Calhoun hummed under his breath, letting his gaze wander. No wonder the air smelt heavy with salt...he hadn't had a moment to wander since he was brought here. How far, he wondered, was dear daddy now? Perhaps he had disappeared too. His mind wouldn't wander far though as another name caught his attention. @Godbrand? He was one of the few Cal had approved of beforehand. He may not have been blessed, but he knew respect and was eager to learn. If he was still here, then the High Elk must have recognized that as well.
 
“Godbrand is here?” He had no plans to chase tails, but he had been useful before. He could be useful again. “Two days, or just about. The High Elk brought me home...only it may not be 'home' to many anymore. It seems His plans have changed...” His eyes would shift again, this time glimpsing from the side to his brother for his reaction. “What about you? Is this still home, Brother?”

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Weirs thought it should all come as no surprise. The woods could speak for themselves, largely, but he was here to affirm that their queen mother's influence had disappeared, and seemingly overnight. Elkshire had vanished, spring had bloomed... and somehow, he persisted along with the forest.

But, Calhoun appeared to consider his report, and it was about Godbrand that he wondered next. “He was around. Not too long ago, he just showed up here out of nowhere,” he added. It was harder for to judge for the inexperienced yearling; speaking to him had very much given the impression that he would be drifting on now that there was no gravity of others here. He had said he would move on... However, as for His plan, Weirs didn't doubt that it was different now--not for a second. With so much having changed around him, it was frankly one of the more comforting notions of lately, even with his complicated relationship with their deity. “It must have,” he gently shook his head, the frustration, the grief, and now each day could offer a new turn. Overwhelming. Though like him, the High Elk remained... so he ought to have his hope to a better, brighter future.

His ears wobbled out, and he shifted his weight. Brother... While he liked exploring nearby at his leisure, he was not yet ready to let go of what was familiar entirely. Weirs kept coming back here and didn't think that he wanted to never see it again, so... this was still his home. Even empty, he had found ways to get by here. “It has been home,” he affirmed. “My only one.” Unlike his older siblings, he didn't have his father's pack somewhere to rendezvous at when it was convenient. But then again, maybe this was no longer the case, and that was why Calhoun was back around here anyway. “Are you staying in His forests too now?” he presumed, given the bearing his brother now wore. Would it be his home again, too?

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“I see...” Calhoun would try to hide his disappointment. He may have arrived too late for Godbrand, but that did not mean that he wouldn't be back or that their paths would not cross again. He was still here, in some capacity at least. That had to count for something. But it was up to Him rather Godbrand found his way or not, or more specifically if he would be led back for Calhoun to guide him.

He'd nod both in approval and agreement to Weirs's statements. The Crown was the only home he knew, even if he had left for some time. It was always his intention to come back permanently... A part of him wondered if Weirs meant to point the latter at himself, or if it was merely reassurance. He couldn't fault him if he had. Calhoun likely would have done the same had he only known a part of the story. “I am. Though I admit, I did not come to bow. There is a part of His path that was hidden from us for our mother's own self-service. Her loyalty to the High Elk relied on convenience. I refuse to follow in the shadow of someone like that. My loyalty will only ever be to Him.”

It was the first time he had admitted so much in a free breath, but there was no reason to hide now. This was His will. “I seek to reclaim our old ways. The true religion. I would not fault you for thinking I'm mad, but I promise you He will support my claims. He put me here for a reason. Before the waters were poisoned, our siblings— you, were marked with her sin. She led everyone to believe it was the bearer's fault to hide her crimes, and a child died because of it.” Even if he never knew his passed sibling, there was no reason for him to die. It was disgusting and it showed plainly on Calhoun's face before he forced the curl of his lip to relax.

“Stay. Follow me, my brother, and I will share with you the truth. We have been given the chance to make a new name for ourselves.”

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He held his remark, a hint at how there was no one to truly bow to anymore; their queen mother was long gone by now, all traces of her influence on these woods vanished save for.. now, their blood, perhaps. But Weirs was not here to contest anything his family was going towards, and remained more willing to listen right now. It seemed easy to believe. Given what he did know, and what he didn't.

The true religion, and he blinked, still all ears and still verging on vaguely uncomfortable. But not deterred. It was a curious turn.

To the youngest prince, Célnes was forever shrouded in much mystery. A complicated relationship at best, coming from a little boy who had wanted to feel her love, he had wanted to learn from her, wanted her to be proud of him. He'd always needed to be thankful for scraps of that life. Then as time went on, he learned to reflect, and step outside of her forgotten shadow, there was where the doubt really could get its grip on him. The truth was, and while Weirs might never understand it, she had not meant for him. If he wore the truth of her sin, then all be better reason for... everything he had faced, and gone without, growing up. But not something he had come to believe given his mother's teachings.

It didn't make it any better, but maybe, it would help him understand it all more if he looked deeper into what his brother brought back. After a hint of a pause, Weirs exhaled. “I want to stay,” he answered. He wanted a fresh, new chance, and to do so here if he could. Where else? This seemed to make enough sense to him to hear out more when he already had the basics, and knew the king's woods well. “You will have to teach me. I don't want only to be.. the queen's afterthought mistake,” there was a hint of the cold anger in the furrowing brow that ended his reminder. After already beginning to learn that he didn't need it to survive, he did not want to see his sorrowed past repeat itself. But maybe under this true light of His that Calhoun spoke of, Weirs might have more luck connecting already.

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Weirs seemed to ponder his words long enough before an answer finally came. It was only then that he realized he had been holding his breath. His younger siblings...he did not know well at all. Admittedly, he had done his part to keep that distance. Calhoun was young when they were born, and barely connected with some of his littermates as was. He was disgusted to see his mother repeat her mistakes with another brood, and for seemingly no reason. She didn't seem to want them. Their father was more detached than his own, only existing in the shadows of words. But it wasn't their fault...

The brother he lost should still be breathing, and it angered him that he would never have the chance to show him His light. His love.

The love their mother kept for herself.

Before now, Calhoun had only shared his plans with Warwick and Edith. Even that was a risk, but they were the two he trusted most in life. He had hoped to rule beside them one day... but it seems that was not His plan. Calhoun wouldn't let the bitter pang in his heart linger as he focused on the brother still here. He hoped to teach them all once he felt it was safe to break from their mother's rule. Fortunately, he no longer had to worry about her or the lies she spread.

“I'm glad to hear it.” He began, before wondering where to even start. There was so little he knew about his younger sibling. His teachings may even be more warped than his own... But they had time. “Of course— but you already are so much more. Besides, she is no queen here, and we are no longer Déorwines. Now you may simply be...brother to the King. Maybe you'll even sit beside me one day.” A faint smile found his lips at the thought. There were still two seats open... he never planned to start this alone, but for now only he could pave the path. The rest still had much to learn before they could join him in guiding others.

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Despite all that he was lacking in, alongside his great need of guidance, his brother offered him nothing but a chance. Maybe his relative blank slate with Calhoun was in his best interest here and now. Weirs was trying to be hesitantly hopeful, especially when he had little else to lose. If he could learn more, and truly lean into His favor and then light, maybe the path ahead of him could look worlds different from the one he had once imagined--not that his plans had ever been quite clear.

..you already are so much more.. he heard, and tried to put these words into his heart, to feel them truly for himself. With time, this understand would come, he hoped. A lot of change was here upon him once more.

Calhoun's spoke truth, though a piece of them veered him right into remembering Godbrand again. She was no queen of these woods, true, but: “If not Déorwines, then what...?” he asked, a cautious peer back. It had always been something that he had come to be proud of, for it tied him to the wolves he knew and loved, even if that relationship was perpetually complicated by circumstance. The name had always been, after all. He had not been ready to lose that like he had lost much else, but if the vision for the times to come was evolving before his very eyes, what else could there be? This had him curious, if not a touch worried.. but he was ready to hear out his sibling for more.

A brother to a king, too, carried its own type of very unique weight but Weirs was not going to balk. Not now. He stood firm, readying himself to see what would come next as this all started to set in. “I'm just.. relieved there can be a home here again.” he exhaled, nose dipping into a short, earnest nod. No part of him had wanted to leave these woods behind for good and while this would take some adaptation, he was young and malleable yet; he wanted a structure around him, the sanctity of home, and the grace and protection of their High Elk where it mattered most.

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Calhoun hummed, a thought lingering his tongue as he pondered his brother's question. It was one he had asked himself for moons now, though it never truly mattered until now. “Our name was bestowed by Him as friends of His kind. It feels wrong to use such a name when it is clear they have lost his blessing. If we can not be friends...then we shall be guardians. Deoradhán... I think it is suiting, don't you?” It felt odd to name anything as if he had ownership or a say, but it was the role he had been born into and one he would not question. 

Deoradhán...Trieweborne... in part they were his, but he could never compare to the one it was all for.

“I agree. I always believed these woods to be home, but I could not stand to be here with how things were done. I am glad to be sheltered in His light once more, but we don't need to linger on that now. Go make yourself at home and, if you are able, see if you can clear out any rotting caches. There's work to be done.”

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Guardians, instead. Weirs let that set in a bit, face neutral--agreeing, overall--like much else before, though it left a strange taste. Déorwines had suffered in their recent times. He was an obvious testament alone to that. Without His blessing to lose, what next? So, would it suit their future? Could it be him.. and his? “I.. think so,” his mind reeled, Deoradhán so new and sudden but also.. not ringing in a bad way, leaving him to savor that hint of confusion. “Deoradhán,” he echoed softly, a blink of a distant look as he tested it, perhaps christening it for himself--hesitantly, and learning still.

He had always liked the thought of being a strong guardian some day, anyway. And, would more distance from the grief of his youth really hurt? His littermates were no longer beside him to remind him, queen mother's teachings gone--finished, and perhaps it was high time for something else--and that was precisely what his brother was able to do.

Another small nod, for he was listening carefully, as Calhoun smoothly turned the focus towards what they could do now that they no longer needed to be shadowed by the previous rule. It reminded him that it was up to them, now, after all. The guard, the hunt, the care. “I can do that,” he said, and dipped his muzzle. “See you later,” was his farewell as he started off into the woods. He was in dire need of time and space to settle with what he now knew first, but hopefully it was clear enough that he was here to stay among them, whatever that meant now.

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