She narrowed her eyes suspiciously, feeling the close proximity of the lake water underneath the dock she was lying on. "What are we here for?" she asked abrasively, her golden eyes betraying her unease and awkwardness. The spring leaves filtered the sunlight coming though, dappling her hair; the cool water reflected the light onto her face in the twilight, the evening birds calling for flight above.
Her father merely smiled warmly at his daughter, sensing her inner emotions. "Nothing special. I thought it would be nice for you to get out for a while. I'm sure you can only take so much of being inside before you go nuts, huh?" Monty picked a stray leaf from Miranda's long hair, and his chest swelled slightly when he noticed that she made no move to reject his hand. "I know the wolf within you should have her dose of the wild world's bounty."
Miranda's fingers twitched at his words, finding them to ring true. "Well.... Yeah....." Before she could concede more, her ears picked up the faint crunch of a twig a ways behind her and Monty. Both quickly turned their heads to the snap, but the latter's eyes softened from their caution when they recognized the cause of the sound.
"Ah, good day, little Jink," Monty greeted warmly. "What brings you to Mortica's world?"
The Santor boy smiled before he answered Monty's inquire. "Well, Jester wanted to know when you were going to come back soon; he wants to know if you and Miranda would like to hunt with him tonight. It's the full moon tonight in this world, isn't it?"
Before Monty could answer, Miranda spoke. "Yes, it is. You can tell Jester that we'll be there shortly for the hunt."
Jink's light green eyes appeared surprised for an instant upon hearing Miranda answer instead of Monty, especially given her disposition. "Yeah uh, okay. I'll see you two later then." With that, the boy shifted into his cat skin to make his way back to Mortica's castle.
After Jink's paw steps faded away, Monty cast a quick look of puzzlement to his daughter. "Are you sure...?"
Miranda shrugged, for in her heart she was starting to try and adapt to her new and sudden life. "Why not? We're all werewolves here, the three of us...."
Monty smiled warmly at his daughter, placing a hand gently on her shoulder.
"No way!" Roxas exclaimed, young green eyes lighted up with what he just heard. "You grew up in a brothel after you ran away?!"
Jester nodded slowly, smiling, amused, at the child. "That's right, kiddo."
"Whoa!" Roxas breathed. From his seat at the kitchen table, he turned to his mother, who was talking to Mortica by a counter a few feet away. "Larxene, what's a brothel?"
"A whore house," Larxene answered neutrally.
"Oh....! What's a whore house?"
"A place where people go to have intercourse with prostitutes."
Roxas eyes lit up, finally getting the meaning of the first word. "Oh, I gotcha now!" He turned to Jester again, missing Mortica's mortified expression as to how an eight-year-old boy would know such things. "So how come you grew up there?"
Jester shrugged, humored. "Because I was hungry, cold, and tired. So I wandered into a house where I saw some women coming in and out of, and since I was more comfortable with women, I went to see if they had any scraps to spare. I had no idea it was a whore house that they lived in." He chuckled. " I was about twelve, so naturally they were more welcoming to me. When they took me inside, they gave me a rather hearty meal and they even bathed me and dressed me in fresh clothes."
"What'd they do after that?" Roxas asked, thoroughly interested. "Did they make you become a prostitute?"
Mortica laughed while Jester patiently answered, "Naw, little tyke, they took me to their head honcho, a woman they called Madame Lovespe. She was a nice woman; took me right in and raised me as her own. She taught me a lot of things, and she took care of everybody. It felt more like a warm and cozy boarding house than those common dirty brothels one usually sees."
Mortica laughed. "And trust me, you'd expect Jester to be some dirty pervert after growing up in one of those places, but you should hear what this Madame Lovespe person did to prevent that." Larxene raised an eyebrow in Jester's direction.
Jester nodded. "Yep. Madame Lovespe wasted no time in teaching me decorum, manners, and general respect towards women, no matter what their disposition." He grinned, leaning back with his arms crossed behind his head. "She raised me like a proper mother should."
"Where is she now?" Roxas asked curiously, eyes brimming with delight.
"She still works at her place, though from time to time I go and visit her."
"So cool!" the young child breathed.
Larxene straightened herself and walked over to her son now. Patting his head, she said, "Well, you've heard your story for the day, kid. Come on, it's time for your combat practices; Jink should be heading back by now."
Roxas hopped off his chair and eagerly followed his mother, whose stride was still a bit hard for him to match casually.
Jester smiled softly after the two, then turning to Mortica. "It's a wonder he hasn't asked why he has combat practices yet."
"Not to mention practices in other arts and ideals, such as mythology, morality, healing, and such....." Mortica's ice-blue eyes were trained on her cup of tea as she said this, but now she looked at Jester with a critical eye. "She doesn't want her son to be unprepared, Jester. She doesn't want him to be just like how she once was, back when she was alive....."
"And how was that....?" the joker prodded.
"Immoral and irrational; ignorant and asleep."
The air was torn asunder with the sounds of teeth and claws clashing together in bloody battle. As the grass was trampled underfoot, heavy bodies fell to further flatten the small and harmless blades. The black night atmosphere had obscured the intruders momentarily, and while the sentries had spotted them, it was still enough to breach the castle grounds around the perimeter.
"Don't pull back!" Stok encouraged loudly as he slashed through a dragon's foreleg with a sword. "Defend the Santor Castle! We fight as one and all!"
Having further boosted the army's morale, the forces roared in unison as they poured onto the enemies. Blood that was blackened by the night fell on the Santors like war paint, deepening their primal fighting spirit, as they slashed and fought their intruders.
"There's gotta be at least thirty dragons out there!" an archer exclaimed beside Stok as he pulled an arrow back. As he let it loose, he breathed loudly, "Who are they?! I don't remember our world even HAVING any dragons!"
As the arrow shot through a dragon's eye, Stok replied quickly, "That's because we DON'T...!" Finishing his sentence, he swung upward and up a dragon's neck. However, this left his flank exposed, and another dragon ran up with swift speed to snap his ribcage apart.
"My Lord!" the archer exclaimed, quickly shooting another arrow into the dragon's mouth to stop the movement. Stok's golden eyes caught the dragon, and he stabbed clean through its head, causing it to fall instantly.
"Thank you, Taon," Stok quickly said before dashing forward to slice across a dragon's shoulder blade. The red screeched in brief surprise before turning its long neck to snap at Stok's leg. Stok cried out in pain, yet he managed to drive his sword into the creature's ear. Reeling back on its hind legs in agony, the dragon was unprepared for the series of slashes across its soft belly; having been gutted, the red fell onto its back to never rise again.
"St....Strafe....!" Stok yelled. "I told you to stay in the castle! You are still too young for battle!"
The sandy-blond child huffed as he ran over his father-figure. His expression a humble defense, the Cub Prince replied, "And miss out on all the fun? No way, especially since I do believe I just saved your life, Stok! Who ever heard of a happy, three-legged wolf?" Strafe's acute hearing picked up a roaring dragon approaching them head-on; turning with practised speed, the child swung his heavy sword across the blue's face. "Man, this thing's heavy!" he exclaimed, noticing that his clumsy swing only stunned the dragon's head, having been hit with the flat side of the blade.
"Strafe!" Stok called as more Santor fighters rushed past him. "You may be being mentored in fighting by me and Larxene, but you are still NOT ready to fight in a battle!" He clenched his leg in pain, which was starting to bleed profusely.
Although the substitute leader was on the ground, Strafe still recognized the authority behind the figure. Subdued a tad bit, the boy managed to say, in the thick of battle, "But I don't want to be useless..... I want to be a good leader some day...."
"But you WON'T be if you die tonight!" Stok retorted sternly, opening a Whirlportal small enough for Strafe. "Go back now!"
Blue eyes swimming in turmoil, the Cub Prince was just about to obey when a black-and-silver blur raced past him--
--and into the Whirlportal.
At once, Stok and Strafe recognized the figure, even before the Hound disappeared into the portal that led to the dining hall. "Oh my God....," Stok whispered heavily, feeling cold as a winter wasteland now.
"Stay here and fight, Stok!" Strafe barked as he shifted into his wolf skin. "Your people are in need first!"
With that, Strafe dove into the fading Whirlportal.
The black marble resounded with the click of his sharp claws as he nosed his way through the dining hall, making his path to the large double-doors that would reveal the halls of Santor Castle to him.
You're here, Larxene, you must be. You ruined us all: my siblings, Voltaire and his business, and Steel..... And I know you had something to do with Greed's disappearance. COME AND FACE ME, YOU WENCH!
"WRATH!" came the roaring snarl, and the hyena-hybrid whirled around at the enraged growl. "TURN AND FACE ME!"
Wrath's golden eyes gleamed with hunger and bloodlust, feeling his hackles rise. All too willingly, little pup.....
With that, Wrath prowled hauntingly toward Strafe Santor, their eyes locked together in finality.
A/N: Bear with me; this IS gonna be a long story, I remind you all.....
And yeah, Wrath commanded the dragons to attack Santor Castle, since he came across it in his world-hoppings and saw some shape-shifters. He put two and two together and assumed that Larxene was there as well.
Oh! And before I forget for the umpteenth time, I came across a song that reminds me of Strafe and the Pack singing to Bellacruxia! It's 'Mama' by My Chemical Romance. Personally, I hate the band, but when I read the lyrics and listened to the song, Strafe totally came to mind. If you don't like screamo or rock in general, just read the lyrics!