/this kinda spiralled into a monster + angst so be prepared ! And yes characters do get mentioned c; if you guys were wondering why fen was collecting stuff, now you know !

It was high time he'd actually decorated this place - he'd lived here long enough to finally get around to it and we'll he had no excuse for living in such Spartan conditions if he wasn't leaving anytime soon.

Part of him had revelled from decorating at the start - a hidden wish that maybe, maybe he'd find a way home or a hidden doubt that there'd ever be another home for him.

But time had proven him wrong and in truth, he was grateful it had.

He'd already set up the basics - his walls were painted in a neutral black, save for one wall left bare for something special - his floor was grey ashen painted wood, a space left for an assortment of found pillows of white, blacks and greys - large to small to serve as chairs where a fire pit was placed in the opposite direction just before the blank wall while the back room was much similar but held a bed of soft furs and the like for the beast to rest on.

A set of square cut out cupboards and various shelves put up around - it was a spartan but cosy elegance from where burgundy curtains framed the window and the snapdragons sat in a serene carved metallic vase as the centrepiece of the sil.

The back room where he slept had sets of shelves and like the main room were left mostly blank save for few precious items - atop the shelf closest to him was Nayru's blank scrapbook she'd gifted him - not yet full of anything save one lone picture.

That singular picture was a gift his father had given in secret upon this new world before their paths diverged - a copy of a photo of his siblings, a precious precious momentum and the only momentum save his memories to remind him of his siblings faces.

Upon it rested the pendant given by Amunet kept meticulously clean and polished - the scarf she had also gifted him was wrapped and folded serenely beside both.

Set upon a wall and hung like some trophy was his mask, earned and fought for in this newfound home.

The back room - bedroom - wasn't huge but could comfortably fit himself and a few others if need be - after all what if his daughter (or suddenly adopted clanmates) or little sister wanted a sleep over?

((If you wanna be emotional for this bit, specifically the non tangler half, I recommend listening to this as its what I listened to typing it))

And now to finally set in place what it was he'd worked so hard on - back in the main room upon the blank wall - now painted a myriad of blues, blacks and dotted with whites like the evening sky of an Equinox set against a galaxy would be placed an intricate carving even the greatest metal workers would only ever dream of crafting.

A myriad of metals in colours and hues of all sorts set to resonate against darker metal and play like a rainbow of colour across multiple different forms sat a mural of metallic intricacy.

In the centrefold was a singular figure obvious in form as himself and painted in coppers, golds and black with small chips of silver-blue crystal for eyes and sitting content between two vastly different scenes.

To his left a myriad of twisting trees of black run through with green tinged metal and several figures carved into the foliage below the trees set and standing looking onward and bustling - it was obviously a mural of Tanglewood and its residents, with Amunet depicted in golds and ivory with chipped eyes of sunlight beside him, smaller figures of Freyja and Nayru in purest white an streaks of greying metal with bright jewelled eyes smiling, one wrapped in a colourful depiction of a metal scarf and sporting a burnished brushed gauntlet while the other had delicate wings, a new addition.

A smaller black metallic figure with class like her elders sat perched on his left shoulder a happy grin set in the canine features - whisper - and another black metallic figure set between himself and Amunet with a cheeky grin and darker cut spots - Hati.

Further to the side above on a slight incline and looking outwards the ever present figure of a white-gold Samoyed with a mask of the brightest ice blue metal he could find and chips of obsidian for the eye holes, a pair of familiar burnished gauntlets around the forepaws - Morgan, now deputy - and directly above him skulking in the trees the scarred face of burnished brown with eyes glinting was there foremost leader.

Beck could say what he liked, but Fen cared about them all - even the cantankerous leader.

Below a familiar pink turned blue silhouette with flowers where horns once were - Iota sat tended a small garden of carefully intricate flowers - Iota.

Beside and just below Morgan two canines were depicted - one huge and burly with a pink scarf detailed out and another with a cheeky grin and quick eyes - Ivan and Killian.

Alongside Killian just to the right a checkered detailed cat - carved in golden yellows and delicate ebony with something of a pensive expression - Vigenere.

And behind these several of the newest figures, carefully detailed and yet leaving room for more among them - even past figures, all old and new, those lost and those just found - Eight, Corrin, Malphas - Amun, Bella, Valo.

All the new precious family and friends he'd found.

He smiled at the mural but then silverine-blue eyes turned to the right and the gaze turned melancholy, a tinge of sadness in his usual countenance.

Oh, he missed them, but he would remember them.

It had taken effort not to fall to sadness when carving them, it had taken all his will to finish it but he had,

He had.

This depiction showed spires and towers ensconced in strange intricacy - stars glimmering in clouds and spirals captured in glass-metal on the strange architecture of the background as it contrasted and complemented the Galaxy-night painted wall.

Where Tanglewood was nature and real - this place seemed fantastical and ethereal almost.

But that was not the main edifice.

He moved forwards and gently lifted a forepaw, claws run through with slight magma lot cracks gently traced the lines of faces he'd known all his life and would think never parted from.

He traced gentle whorls and raised patterns swallowing heavily

At the very back of the right side two large regal figures sat, draconic in nature - one seemed a galaxy come to life with hair and feathers run through with solar flares at the end and eyes of pure white light and the green of new spring - grandmother - and to her right her twin, seemingly aglow of light given form in angular armour and crystals of gold with patterns of intricate black stripes moving with stars inlaid where half his form seemed to dissolve into that self same white edged galaxy as his twin - great uncle - chaos and order, with wings manifold and a quite grace.

He had never known them well in life, tragedy striking one down and imprisoning the other but he'd known them at the end, when life and death were cut so very thin to the veil.

They said they'd been proud of them.

Before those two sat a few of figures, each of them a quiet dignity but a familiar smile and sense of family - Aunt Ashlyn, given form in brilliant golds and reds with eyes like bright emerald fires and wings of solar fires, the great gryphon a living flame given form and her opposite, Uncle Viktor, a frigid counterbalance with wings like brutal shards and a fierce glare of peridot green-blue, forepaws encased and sporting the armour of ice unbent where back blunt hooves could cave the face of a cliffside - the two were complements and opposites, a great gryphon of flame and a great hippogryph of blizzards.

Curling around and rising through waters below, Painted and carved in elegant whirls a sea given form - Aunt Ileana - and gracefully before the mural's right side slipped into the main figures set so close was a delicate horse like creature with legs made of ivory and soft brown branches carved meticulously as if to look life like and youngest of his father's siblings - Aunt Cali with a horn of spiralling emerald stone, flowers bloomed where she stepped.

He liked to think Aunt Cali and Iota would have gotten along quite well - they certainly shared a love of flowers and no doubt Aunt Cali would have loved the sometimes uncertain firebrand, if not adopted her on the spot - Likely Nayru also, Aunt Cali's Status as a deity of nature was also one of healing and she had always loved a kindred soul.

Ashlyn and Amunet would have gotten along - he almost feared that in truth, the raucous fire ascendant was always rather bloodthirsty and loved a good victory like nothing else but she'd been a fierce defender of family to the very end - Morgan and Viktor might have gotten along if Viktor wasn't famously anti social (though given Morgan and his persistence, he figured the Samoyed would swear down even the stoicist of glaciers).

The closest figures however brought the sadness like nothing else - one was instantly familiar, the stoic and frightening portrayal of a large intimidating black dragon would be familiar to anyone that had known him - two eyes set of diamond and one of malignant blood-red coloured crystal the same crystalline set where his father's 'scar' ran down, proof of heritage of a rather unfortunate side of their line.

His father was a solid presence in the mural but a hint of  solemnness rested in the intricate almost life like lines carving his face - to his left a ghostly figure of thinnest white gold metal - his twin, long deceased but Fen wouldn't be so remiss as to leave out the ghost that had often haunted and looked out for four youngsters in the war times - the elegant dragon of light a stark contrast to the dark menace of his living brother.

Lucifer would love Tanglewood no doubt - likely adopt the entirety of it, a family trait given his own track record (one lucifer had once said came from grandmother, the lady of chaos had oft had a penchant for taking in wards and strays - it explained why she'd had an empire driven so to give the people all they needed, it almost baffled him to think of such all encompassing love for so many)

There was a much brighter figure curled at the great black dragons feet, feline in nature - depicted in whorls of white-blue and long silken silver hair, ceramic white bone like growths and eyes like white diamonds set in red rubies.

His mother,

Fenris traced his claws across the serene smile he'd given her - it had been the last smile she'd given him or his siblings as the walls had come down and she faded crumbling like the Phoenix that had been forced and bound to her soul as she used power that would eat her alive - power not asked for but forced - to give them the few shreds of time for escape as it loomed and cackled a hacking laugh, claws of nightmares tearing through defences when the veil between had been breached.

I love you, I love you all so much she'd said to them.

Fenris closed his eyes, willing himself away from the memories.

She would have loved it here - she would have loved Amunet and she would have adored The children - would have been charmed by little Whisper and found Beck's attitude amusing, she'd have loved to help Morgan with his books and Iota with her garden - taught little Nayru and Freyja how to use size to an advantage, would have consoled with Vigenere about terrible family members and taken Nayru aside to assure her what happened to her before didn't matter now.

He missed her so terribly.

And he missed his siblings.

They were the last and closest figures in the right half of the metal mural - because they had always been four, inseparable and never seen apart, the band of mischievous and yet devastating force together.

He smiled quietly at the memories - they'd gotten into so much trouble together, Azrael, oldest and put up in brother as he was had often lamented having such foolish siblings - though anyone could tell there was no heart to the words only fond amusement.

Hard to think Fenris had been a troublemaker but war changes everyone and even now his wit and teasing slowly returned as he thawed amidst what he'd found here.

He snorted quietly, yeah his siblings would have loved it here as much as mother.

His eyes glanced to there depictions - Azrael, a frightening dragon of skeletal looks with blue fire dancing across exposed ribs and eyes alight like a moon glow, death himself shepherding his siblings through each battle and always bringing them home safe - to Lilith, a feline figure crossed with a serpent and almost as tall as himself, with fangs shown in a grin of promised mischief and green fire in her eyes where the poison danced between talons, a penchant for mischief and a fascination for disease and poisons of all kinds, Lilith youngest though she was, had been feared for good reason - and then to there adopted number, Morrigan, a crow beast with many eyes and human like, harpy some might say, a witch with a murder at her disposal and arrows finely honed that could strike and decimate in a single blow.

They'd been depicted like all siblings, the oldest to one side looking on amused whilst fen was pestered by both his sister's grinning at him and likely high jacking him into their latest schemes.

Oh Tanglewood would have suited them fine - Lilith would have loved Beck and his tricks and his strange man eating plant, she'd find a kindred soul there likely and likewise she might've found Killian's humour charming - Morrigan would have immediately taken Nayru under her wing given the sawbone's new penchant for magic, she might've taught her how to summon a whole flock of crows as new friends - Azrael would have liked Morgan and his outlook, his eldest brother was usually older than he seemed, an old soul he would've said, returning from that nether realm where the dead passed through after spending a night shepherding lost souls from the battlefield - he needed friends to pull him back from endless death and the sadness of souls taken too soon in fen's opinion - likely eh would've gotten along with Vigenere quite well too, perhaps even Amunet who might've found His older brothers quiet solemn nature a soothing personality to talk too.

He traced their lines with sadness but found that he could still comfort himself with the knowledge they still lived even if he would never see them again.

Fenrisulfr sat back, tired after the work of the house - home now, no longer just 'place of rest' - and the mural, it had zapped his energy wholly to carve this intricate work.

Now if one lit the fire in the pit - set so as not to alight anything if Fenris wasn't there to corral it - the flames would dance in the eyes of the chipped crystals and diamond sand jewels along the wall, given the almost lifelike carvings a glimpse of the souls they'd represented.

Perhaps it might make him melancholy to glimpse the right side or content upon the left but never let it be said would he forget anyone whom was dear to him.

He smiled slightly watching the mural as the sunlight filtered in from the window - the glass work carefully tinted to leave the room with a softer less glaring glow - he'd left the door open to let the place air our after the workshop had been in use - his home consisting of the main room, the back bedroom and his little indoor workshop area, he needed no larger to live in contentment - he'd actually broken down the one last room that had been left empty for a much larger main room - after all what if he had many guests? (Considering he'd adopted quite a few of the clan that wasn't unreasonable to say in other words if he 'had the kids over' so to speak)

/heck idek how much words this is.