[P] The Black-Heart

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Leo's smile was sly and teasing, "Who knows. That day may not be far off." Only time would tell if he did anything. He wouldn't actively try to settle the score. Leo wasn't that playful. He had no idea how it would happen or what might prompt it, but it would likely linger somewhere in the back of his mind.
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"Is there anything our esteemed Anima doesn't know?" he chuckled lightly, but his mood was somber. The off-white shepherd had been the one to bring up talks of war, but the actual prospect of it wasn't one he took lightly. He knew the risks, but still thought it necessary if things didn't change soon. "Indeed," Leo nodded, "We grow languid in times of peace." The shepherd's eyes followed his tafa as Iro slithered ahead. "With so much to do and learn in the care of the tafa, many may see the extra training as a waste of time." As if to illustrate his point, Iro drew Leo's attention to the base of a bush where the quiet cheap of a chick echoed from the branches.
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The lanky brute walked up to the chick, a robin, and gently nudged the creature. "Fallen from your nest, have you?" he asked softly. With the little bird perched on his nose, he lifted the chick to the nest where its fellows waited hidden in the bush. "Be careful now." Leo turned back to Silver, falling into step beside her.
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"It always is," he said gravely, "And yet we still continue it." Sometimes, it was deemed necessary as Leo saw it now. The lesser of two evils. Others, it was simply a crime and a grave mistake. "With how skilled and diligent our warriors our, few outsiders ever manage to breach as deep into the territory as the Citadel. It lulls the shepherds into believing the feat to be impossible." Even though the shepherd were tasked with guarding the Citadel, the patrols were not as extensive or frequent as those conducted by the pack's warriors. Leo wondered as well how seriously the patrols were taken. As much as he wanted to believe that all the shepherds were as dedicated and focused on their tasks as he was, he knew that wasn't the case.

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Leo laughed light, but he was wary. Pride comes before the fall. Was it really right to pretend? They were simply joking, but leadership by falsehoods was something the off-white brute could not agree on. The shepherd hated lies. No matter what the reason was or who the lie was for, he'd always tell the truth. The truth, no matter how much it hurt, was better than a pretty lie.
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As much as peace was welcome, it came with its burdens. Pups could grow up without fearing war or death. They could grow up with both their parents to guide them. But its languid nature made room for error. Their warriors grew relaxed, and the enemy inevitably made their way in. Leo nodded, "Indeed, it is." His family had been victim to that very curse.
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"It is why we've sealed off our borders," Leo agreed. The Au'Dar had once welcomed outsiders as the other packs had, but after the betrayals, they had closed their borders. The world had proven too dangerous, and its inhabitants unworthy of trust. "We can only hope it doesn't come to that." Again. No one else should have to suffer the same fate his family had. He would make sure of that.
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The rustling of feathers on leaves froze Leo in his steps. "Not here," he cursed. His eyes grew cold as Iro slithered into his shadow and curled around his left forepaw. He hadn't been paying attention. If he had, he would never have come here with Silver. It was too late now. Yevara was here. From behind a bush, the regal figure of a white-naped crane appeared. Her old, broken left wing dangled at her side. The tips of the feathers dragged on the ground. Her eye fixated on him and under her gaze, he felt ten times smaller than he was. Physically, he shrank back. Yevara had been his father's tafa. She'd participated in the battle that night and broken her wing as a result. Even grounded, she still had an unwavering nobility and majesty. Unlike other tafa who'd lost their wolf, Yevara had not passed on. She'd remained to watch over Leo and his siblings. At least, that was the reason Leo thought she still remained.
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Every time he saw her, he was reminded of that night, their failures, and their loss. Her gaze never wavered. Even now, a provocation seemed to appear in her eyes. A summons for something he didn't understand. He couldn't meet her gaze, and his eyes dipped to the broken wing to the dried dirt at the bird's feet. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, "I'm sorry." Yevara was a physical reminder of all they'd lost and how badly they'd failed. How badly he'd failed.

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Despite the grief and pain Yevara caused him, he stubbornly refused to allow any other wolf to care for the tafa. Every day, he would come to this spot with only Iro and his father's ghost as company. Every time, he could only look at the ground as he worked. In the end, his eyes never saw Yevara, only her shadow. For all his bluff and bluster in front of others, in the presence of his father's tafa, he was nothing.
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With his head bowed, he saw and felt Iro tighten around his foot. It was the snake's small attempt to sooth his friend. So deeply immersed in his thoughts was he that he failed to notice when Silver left his side nor did he notice her return. Only when the white fae spoke did his mind return to the present. He raised his head only to stop when his eyes met those of the crane's. His gaze falling back to the ground. Even now, years after, he couldn't tell what those eyes desired. How he wished she would reveal her desires and cease her torment. How he would beg her to speak. How he could not.
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Silver's words were the undeniable truth. If he truly wished to apologize, he had to look at Yevara. The ground was not who he sought to speak to. But he couldn't. The weight of his sins brought him to his knees. "I-I can't," he lamented, turning away from the bird. He couldn't do this. Not with Silver there to see his shame. The first step was agony. At first, he walked. Each step came faster and faster until he was running. Iro clung to his leg as he fled from his shadows. He ran, forgetting about Silver, forgetting about everything.
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He came to stop all too soon. His head hung low as his breath came in ragged gasps despite only traveling a fraction of the distance he normally could. "I'm sorry, Iro," he mumbled to the indignant snake. Having clung to his leg throughout the entire rough trip, the tafa was none to pleased with his companion. But nonetheless, the snake still cared for the shepherd. At the moment, there were more important things than a rough ride.

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Iro's indignation was shorter-lived than usual. The snake knew his companion was hurting. The off-white shepherd smiled softly knowing he was forgiven. Bowing, Iro made his way to his usual spot at the base of Leo's neck. With his tafa at his side, he felt a small wave of calm pass over him. Away from the crane, his mind could settle.
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He wasn't sure what he had expected. After that shameless display, he wouldn't have blamed her for leaving him. To be accurate, he'd left her. When her voice reached his ears, his head shot up in surprise, "Silver." For a moment, he simply stared. Why had she come? He'd expected her to leave him to his demons. She had no reason to check on him. It might have been better if she hadn't. Then he could pretend none of it had happened. He could still be the black-heart Leocadio in front of her.
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Leo gave a brisk shake of his head. Straightening, he stood tall and proud just as he had before Yevara's appearance. "He's fine," he said, "Shaken but fine." He'd already shown her more weakness than the Anima ever needed to see. If anything, he could pretend it was all fine. That nothing had transpired. From her question, he was hoping Silver would do the same.

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Silver's statement only increased Leo's embarrassment at his actions. The smile the snowy fae gave looked like pity in the shepherd's eyes. It was she was twisting the knife of shame in his belly. His eyes darkened and his ears fell back as he looked away. "He's fine," he repeated sharply. Silver's gentle nature only served to add fuel to the fires of his frustration. He didn't want her pity. He didn't need her pity. He was completely fine as he was. So what if he was an orphan and hated by the family he had left, he was fine was he was. He didn't them, and he didn't others walking around him like he was some delicate flower.
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He turned his eyes back on Silver, speaking stiffly and formally, "I would not think to neglect my duties. I still have a patrol to do." Just because he'd run away didn't mean he was unfit for duty. He could still work. He wasn't so weak. Yevara's presence would not stop him from doing what he had to do. After conversing with her, he'd thought that maybe Silver was different, that maybe he'd misjudged her. But that was a lie. She was no different than the others. Pity for the orphan. Scorn for the one who'd destroyed his family. The one who didn't belong.
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A rustling in the bushes disrupted his thoughts. His eyes fell on Wynd as the badger made his way to his partner's side. His eyes softened seeing the tafa. No matter if they were as grumpy as Wynd or incomprehensible as Iro, they were his one source of comfort. They would never look at him with pity or scorn or walk on eggshells around him. "If you will excuse me," he continued, the sharp edge to his voice gone, "I must get to my patrol." It was better that way. Instead of wallowing in his memories at his den, he could force his mind to focus on his patrol. There would be no ghosts then.