Paradise - a place of extreme beauty delight, and happiness. The perfect word to describe the stunning utopia in which the once rugged warrior, bound by the confines of a king, found himself lost within. The dazzling sun blazed high in the sky, consuming the landscape with blinding rays, combating the chill that threatened to take its place as the winter grew near.The crystal waters of the river below twinkled as the sunlight danced across its surface. While the wind was absent below, at whispered through the blades of grass that swayed in their eternal dance with the element. The same wind that twisted its way through the lush grass braided its way through the copper fur that adorned his body. Pale lids closed over near flame coloured eyes as he inhaled deeply. His nose filled with scents, the fresh breeze, the pure waters, the lush grass, the animals that made this wonderland their home. He wished this moment would be everlasting, though as he knew all to well, all good things must come to an end. If he could stop time, and spend an eternity in this luxurious place oh how he would.

Rocks older than wolfs themselves jutted out from the rivers shores, climbing for what seemed like forever to the plateau that he stood upon. Trees daringly grew from the rocky cliffside, clinging to the earth with all of their might, but never budging an inch. A gentle smile slipped across his ebony lips as he took in the sights. These were sights he would forever remember, and hold dear. He had never taken time to appreciate the beauty of the lands that surrounded him, that was until now. He would have a family soon, or so he hoped, and he vowed he would bring them to this place. His mind drifted off into dreams of the future, or at least the future he hoped to have. Nnlya by his side, the starlight in a dark world, pups running and playing, testing new limbs, exploring the big new world that lay at their paws whilst he and his dearest Nnlya watched them play. Smiling and laughing, a big happy family. This was his dream, or at least now it was. He had once dreamt of nothing more than being the best at what he did, fighting, but now, he had new ambitions. He wanted no part of her past and what the monsters that were part of it stood for.

A pang of pain shot through him at the memory of his father who's live he had so hastily, and so brutally taken from him. He barely remembered the old brute aside from those last moments, though the kill still hung heavy in his mind as though it were yesterday. He often found himself wondering what life would have been like where it not for Rhaegar and his twisted ways. Wolves were not meant to live in separate packs, yet all under the control of one. They had their individual packs, defined by different rulers and different sets of standards, morals. It was no wonder Rheagar had gone crazy. Ruling one pack, even a small one would be taxing. But ruling over five packs, each nearly the size of Helidos? He shook his head merely thinking about it.

But such thoughts needn't trouble him now. He pushed them to the far recesses of his mind where she tried to keep them locked away. These lands were supposed to be his fresh start, his escape from the past he so wished to forget. His attention was brought back to reality when out of the corner of his eyes, he caught a swift movement. He snapped his head to the side and locked his sight on what had moved. A flock of birds had gathered in the grasses of the plateau, and picked at the ground in search of a meal. Excitement glinted in his eyes as he lowered his streamlined frame as close to the ground as possible while still remaining on his feet. Muscles contracted beneath his skin, his plush tail flicked behind him silently. Ears flickered as the chirps and cheeps of the birds reached them. Slowly but surely, one paw at a time, he crept closer and closer, remaining completely silent. When he was but a few paces out, he sprang. Powerful muscles sending his muscular frame soaring through the air directly into the flock of birds.

He had no intention of feeding on the birds, all he sought was a little fun, something Nnlya had told him he desperately needed to indulge in more frequently, and something he would have to learn to do were he ever to have a hope in hell of dealing with pups. The birds scattered into the sky, flapping their wings in a desperate attempt to flee from the wolf. A hearty chuckle cracked through the air as he chased the fleeting flock, his swift movement carrying him across the ground at break neck speed, only ever interrupted by the occasional leap into the air, barking to send the birds scattering again. He watched the winged creatures soar effortlessly though the sky with a near envy in his eyes. He often wondered what it would be like to have wings. To be able to soar through the sky, drifting on the winds, not a care in the world. As the birds soared well out of his reach, his sprint slowed to a halt, though a small grin was left pulling at the corner of his mouth. He could get used to this.. "fun" thing that he seemed to have gone without for so long, perhaps being so strict, so rigid and formal was not all life was cracked up to be.

The days had passed and Desmond grew weary of the silence in being within the unwanted lands. Not many other wolves lived here, of course, so it made his wish to speak with the living rather hard. He found himself wandering to the neutral lands more and more, hoping to meet more wolves to interest him in his most boring days. He went in the morning, afternoon, and night. Sometimes he would meet a lost wolf or one just running from their lives. Others, he would find nothing, only the sounds of prey resting in the surrounding area. As he wandered from the place her knew as home, he made his way to a place he had never been. He had heard it was something along the lines of an Angel. What the hell was that? He had no clue, for he was far from an angel, but not quite a demon. Desmond continued on his undefined path. When he drew nearer to the lands untraveled by his own paws, he found the scent of a male. It was from the other pack, one he had not met yet. Slowly he moved closer to the individual. He took in his scent, trying to get as much information as he could. He was a good sized male, skilled though unable to catch a bird even if he had tried. Such an interesting display. Desmond stood back and watched the birds fly from him, none being caught in his powerful jaws. Desmond did not mutter a sound, nor did he move. He watched in pure silence. Was he captivated by this male, enthralled by his inability to get the things he wanted? As he stopped his attack, Desmond watched him still. It almost seemed as if he had been enjoying himself. It was a strange thing to see. "So tell me what brings a pack wolf as... filled out... as you to jump after flighted birds? Surely you would be better fit getting a meal from those delicious kill piles we hear so much about. It must be nice to be lazy when it comes to food. Not having to hardly do anything, just mosey on over to a pile full of rotting flesh. If only all life was so simple.." He stared to the other wolf, looking over him and watching the fleeting birds fly further and further into the sky. "You do not smell of Erenyx, so I am to assume you belong to the lesser of the two packs... I hear your leader is one of flowers or something to that effect.."

All too soon, the air of silence was broken as he watched the birds flitter away, their tiny wings carrying them effortlessly through the sky. If he were able to live another life, one after this, he would love to be a bird. So free, so graceful. The sound that broke his train of thought was a males voice. The scent that accompanied him was neither of Erenyx or Helidos, so that could only mean he was one of the rogues that inhabited the area. An odd life choice for a wolf. The strength of the wolf came from the pack. They were meant to live together, work as a team, a family, and yet, every now and again, the odd wolf would choose the life of a loner. He would never understand the choice, but who was he to judge. To each their own. He turned, catching a glimpse of the male. He was large. Taller than Drogo, though undoubtedly his size was a hinderance when it came to speed and agility. Nothing about his coat was of extraordinary notability, though the emerald eyes that sat nestled within his head were rather interesting. It was not a common colour among wolves, though he had seen it a time or two.

Drogo reclined onto his haunches, shifting his gaze back up to the birds, catching the last fleeting glimpse of them as they flew farther and farther into the distance. "A quest to discover a rather foreign subject to myself, known as "fun."" he stated simply before shifting his seat to face the lone wolf. "And while the kill piles are a plus when one is unable to hunt otherwise, they are not simply there for lazy wolves. Hunting down a fresh kill keeps ones skills sharp, their senses always at the ready." he added. He himself had only ever enjoyed the spoils of the kill pile when he was under strict orders of the healers not to exert himself after the accident in the mountains. The healing had taken far longer than he would have liked, but he was now as well as before, the only sign of the incident being the scars, though they were well hidden by the rest of his pelt at this point. Hearing the rogues comment about Helidos being the lesser of the two packs, Drogo could not help but chuckle. "Simply because Helidos, and those who call it home, uphold a different set of morals makes them lesser than those who would rape, pillage and murder simply for the thrill of it? Im afraid I must disagree with you there, though you are entitled to your opinions as am I."

"I doubt I am familiar with this 'fun' you speak of. Not that I can see how losing your catch is any fun at all. For a wolf like me, that means one lost meal. It means more time to try and find another. Rogues do not have time for your 'fun' you seek." He stared to the other. He was not trying to be confrontational, but it seemed he was more on edge with males than with faes. Perhaps he was not feeling endangered by them. "See and that just proves you have the kill pile to fall back on. You can say whatever you like, that you prefer fresh kills, but you should have killed those flighted fools to prove it. That's the issue with pack wolves. You kill and take from the wilds, and I bet it goes bad since you are too high and mighty to accept such goods." Desmond moved to sit on the ground, resting his weight to the left. "I do not have an opinion on which pack is better. I just hear things and collect information. After all, knowledge is power and that is what I seek. So if you would correct the words I have heard about your pack, please tell me from your own knowledge. What is Helidos all about?" Watching the other, he waited for a reply. He was very curious on this topic. After he had heard so much from Erenyx wolves, he wanted to know what was true. What would he do with this information? He had no clue.

"One cannot lose what they never intended to catch, but never the less, I can see your side of things. I too lived the life of a lone wolf for some time between my last pack and this, but it is not something I would wish to do again. There is something to be said for the security a pack provides. Insurance if you will." He noted the slight irritation in the other males words and overall disposition. Perhaps he was like this with all wolves. Such would explain why pack life did not appeal to the male. Or, perhaps it was the opposite of himself and male company was what had the rogue on edge. Drogo himself, though now comfortable around his mate, still was weary about how to conduct himself when in the presence of females. The lack of their presence during his life in Tortall had not prepared him for interactions with the oddly enticing gender.

Drogo decided to ignore the rogue's comment about being high and mighty. Drogo's reply would more than like cause unnecessary conflict, and that was the last thing on his agenda for today. Instead, he chose to focus on the topic of the packs. He found it interesting that he sought such knowledge about the packs. Perhaps he had an agenda of his own with whatever knowledge he could gather. If such was the case, Drogo would need to decide carefully as to what information he chose to part with willingly. "What is Helidos about? Second chances good sir. It is a place for those with broken pasts and little hope to find their way. Helidos is truly a family. It's members willing to do whatever it takes for the betterment of the pack, and the safety and wellbeing of those who call it home." he said simply, a light grin tugging at the corner of his lip.

Of course the male would come up with all kinds of excuses for their ways of life, for the "fun" he was having. He still could not see how any of that was considered fun. If anything, killing and sparring another was truly fun. It was good for Desmond to watch an opponent. He would learn their patterns and the way they made their decisions. He watched and gathered more information about each individual, especially from fighting. Fight or flight, what would they do first? The wolf before him seemed to be something more than just a wolf. He had a head on his shoulders and was guarded with his information of their pack. "It's not security, it's complacency. I was speaking about this with another wolf from the other pack, actually. You think because you are high in numbers, does not mean you need to spend your time 'pretending' to catch prey. Instead, you should be focusing on the predatory dangers which lurk within these lands. You are far from home wolf, and for this, you have made your first mistake." Desmond was not threatening the other, just merely stating facts. The fact of the issue was that so far, Erenyx was sounding better and better than Helidos. It was no wonder in which Fel had betrayed their little hope-filled mindless skulls. The large brute looked to the blended coat of the male before him. This name-less wolf was an interesting one, though he claimed their pack was a family. Though he doubted it. From the story he had heard from Fel, it did not sound like the reaction of a "family". "So tell me, brute, does a family exile their own member when she simply accepted the request of a severely injured wolf - close to the brink of death? I was once a part of a 'family' and even though my father never exiled me, I did far worse crimes than those committed by your own Guardian. So tell me how a place of 'second chances' and 'family' would allow something like that to even happen... Or do you not have answer for such? Do not try to fill my ears with your excuses and fluff. I have no time for that." Desmond was curious to see how this male would reply to him.