The Lone Wolf, The Lost Horse.

"Do ye even see anythin' o' Eodan in me anymore?"
"Nae.."

The words ringing in his mind as he ran, naked over the plains. His rite? Is he joking? He had Steedsmane, the one who dishonoured himself. And yet.. There he still went, would it help? He didn't know. Would they accept it or call it sacrilege? He didn't care.. It felt right, so he just did it.
His feet stomping across the all too familiar plains, he just ran. Hours passed by as he slipped past the great wall. Hillsbrad, familiar, hostile and yet it just seemed inviting. There where he's fought, prayed, betrayed and changed. The night fell heavily upon his frame, the rotten air of Southshore not far from his hideout, he would sit to a tree, staring vividly over the plains, waiting patiently, not even knowing what for, yet all he knew was to follow his instinct. He's done it before, even though he was just a child.

The night crawled forward, his mind filled with too many things. Regrets, questions, prayers for forgiveness and yet none of it seemed to make any progress... Untill a loud, piercing sound cought his attention. His eyes snapping towards the sound, narrowing lightly once noticing two resplendent little orbs staring at him, not more then two meters. As Eodan slowly pushed himself to his feet, the majestic wolf stood before him growled lowly, warningly. It is only upon better inspection that Eodan saw the clawmarks, the patches of missing fur, the condition the wolf was in that he realized this one had no pack.
His gaze shifted. The faded jade green eyes regained their colour upon the realization that came within him.
The pair continued to stare at eachother, if not for hours on end in utter silence, neither of them lowering their eyes.
"Ye've fought fer yer place in te' pack..." would be the first line Eodan would say. The would emitting a low whine, as if able to understand and respond.
"Yer 'lone.. Jes' like me.. Loyal te' what ye once were..." he'd continue, the wolf lowly growling as his ears flatten.
"If ye kill me... Ye'll be accepted by te' pack ruling these lands... Is i'?.." are the last words Eodan spoke with a weak smile before the wolf took a leap, snarling out as it's fangs came for the man's throat.

I am sorry.. crossed the mans mind as he felt the fangs digging into his raised arm, the wolf biting down with a loud growl. It mattered not. Eodan stood tall, self confident for the first time in what seemed an eternity. His free hand gripping the wolfs upper snout, cutting off the air canal, enduring the pain until the creature was forced to let go of it's grip. It is then that Steedsmane struck, holding the wolf in place, spinning to it's back and with a single, dry and strong swoop the neck of the creature would be heard cracking, twisting in the man's grip. Not a yelp was heard, not a whine as the body fell lifelessly, hanging in his hold.

Falling backwards to sit down, Eodan did not care about the bite to his arm, holding the carcass of the dead animal in silence, he rocked back and forth lightly, as if soothing the dead beast, hushing softly under his breath. "Yer free now... I will carry on yer legacy.." he spoke softly before the first, strong and proud howl would be heard breaking the night, quickly followed by another untill a loud symphony of howls would split the nights air in honour of their fallen. They honoured him, the lone wolf. They knew that in one way, he would live on.
Little did he know of the welcome awaiting him home. A man, dressed in the cloth stood by the gates as he returned, carrying the fallen wolf on his back and it wasn't with a welcoming look. Before Eodan could speak, he got spoken to. "Ma'goth! What do you think you're doing? You believe you can claim a name and repent by being rash? You forget even the most basic of traditions! Burry the creature, pay your respects and get dressed! You are filth. FILTH! Arrogant filth!"

He stood frozen, his head slowly sinking downwards, humbly bowing his head down before dragging his feet away from the gates, doing as told. Doing as ordered, serving, obeying. Refusing to give up, regardless of how many times his pack would decline him. The pain will one day be rewarded. The loneliness will one day end.

Really liking this.

The wolf/Eodan comparison makes it a poignant piece of writing, and I love the descriptions of Hillsbrad (poor plagued Southshore! ;_; ) which is a region that's always had a place in my heart.

Looking forward to more stories, and glad you're back.