Lycaon: The Flaming Alpha

V

     "Did you call that meeting or briefing?"

      Pelasgus moved aside as he sat. He had no idea why his father was being jumpy. There was no point in moving aside. There were different erected logs which he could sit on. He was being careful. Like he was girding his hampered heart for it. He knew what was going to happen anytime soon. His father's actions were not farfetched. He would throw garbage of words at him. But he had no digs to veil the odds and tame the taunting odors. He was ready for whatever twould take. He looked at him. What was that question for? He couldn't be sure. Was that to get on his nerve or bruise his authority? He wouldn't call that questioning his authority. He would rather it as assault. And he wouldn't take any form of assualt. He kept his rage in its cubicle. He didn't want to rend it. He could use pored patience. At least for the meantime. He was skeptical on what would be supplanted. He was skeptical on what turn his mercy would take. He made to speak. He didn't know what to start with. He was a leader, an Alpha matter-of-factly and must choose his words. 

       If he did try to speak, twould be more of defending himself. Anyone would do just that. He should defend himself. If he didn't, then who would he be defending? He was biding his time. Time had been smothered. He knew he needed to be fast about it and go to attend to Athena. Their were two distinct worlds at that moment. When she was with him, she was his mistress. But when he was in the pack, she was a mate. He was making confetti of ideas on how she would behave or what kinda leader she would be if she were a Luna. He couldn't keep nursing that thought. He needed something else to hold onto. He needed a stray of actions. He needed a pull. The man sitting beside him wasn't just some psychopath who could hurl words at him and go without callous criticism. He knew what he was getting on and was ready for it. Bless goodness there was no other mate present except the two of them. But he couldn't just find himself confiding in him. He should but he felt he would be cheated. But why would a father want the downfall of his offspring? He couldn't be sure. He guessed he was merely thinking too much. That would be his rage. He wielded his comeback:

      "I simply felt a need to talk to the mates. That's all."

       He felt like he had been violated and needed to defend his pedigree. He wasn't sure if he had used the words loosely. Probably he had given out his contempt so easily. He was cautious of the look the man was having on. Twas a strange man to him at that moment. He didn't see him as his father anymore. And he should be justified for that. Consider this. After the uproar complemented by the hullabaloo, he had been considered as the hell amongst the spaces of convergence. That was not an outrightly demeaning attributions. He just felt tshouldnt be coming from his father. Everyone is prone to mistake. What paint some people greatly is the way they did manage the odds. He probably didn't manage it accurately. Even if he had prompted their banishment and ill-fate, what was so new about it? And ever since then, that man for his father had been pruning betraying arts. He had been indifferent hitherto. And as an Alpha, he wouldn't be surprised if a treason would come from he who birthed him. He avoided his gaze. Then Pelasgus' words came tumbling in hoisted haste:

      "You may have wrong perceptions about me."

        A part of him was going to say, hell kiss that fact, but he was sure that that would be way too harsh. He needn't be that moody. He let the old man complement his broken muse:

        "Yet I'm your father."

       He tried to make meaning of what he was saying. He couldn't. The point the man was trying to put across was vague. Probably he was the one who was unwilling to see his points. He couldn't be sure. Probably he wasn't simply interested in whatever the old man did have to say. Maybe because his contempt for him had scaled altitudes and was at the apex of its zenith. Odds were bound to be supplanted. There was no use for chances. He could spit it back into his face that he was not his father. Like metaphorically. He couldn't annul the cosmic bows, but a father was not what Pelasgus was to him. A father wouldn't be. He was trying to remember how he had came into being. A stereotypical pull of pangs. He wanted to counter his point but he was countered...

     "And I'm sure you're going through a lot. Swimming through an ocean of odds and wiles. Even if you wouldn't speak of it, I could read it vividly etched in your vying visage. I could make meaning from them. But your contempt perhaps or indifference towards me wouldn't spare you a trust in me. Words is usually inflected and strangled by worries and pains are by products of odds. Say your worries to your loved ones. It does help. If I ain't an option, confide in Athena. Even as I speak, go to her, she needs you!"

       Pelasgus stood. Lycaon had no idea what to think. He was lost in the lured labyrinth of the cloned complexity of the whole deal. He hated to think that he was wrong about his father. He was sure that many of his hideous parts were hidden from Athena, but all were visible to his father. And he feared him because his secrets were with him. Twas more of mental oppression. He hadn't braced his Instinct for that. Probably he would yet train it. He wanted to say a "thank you", but the man was in a haste. Lycaon stood and did make for his way also. Then as he turned to mimick the path his father had merged, he saw the old man tilting till he made a thud on the earth. He peered curiously, disrobing the forest with his ruthless gaze. What happened. Was anybody else present there? Why did his father fall? He ran to him and held his head with his palm. Then he looked closer and saw some creatures sheltering behind trunks. He hadn't taken note of them ever. He was sure that there were up for some mischief. He couldn't be sure how many they were. There were covered in raffias. Another one which looked like a human hurled a hot stone at him but he ducked. Intruders?

      "Charge!!!!"

       That was the last thing he did hear. The last word his mental Ken was generous enough to lend him.