Argus was tired in a way that she hasn't been in a long time. In the life-shattering moment of stillness after destroying her home in a fit of rage- in some desperate attempt of controlling a situation that grew too out of hand too quickly. It was that split second that Obscuro had realized she never would be able to live- breathe with such a want of family pressing on her back. There was no telling which side of her- the need for revenge and the need for a family- would ever win. Revenge had almost won, and in the end Obsucro had wanted it. she hates it. hate hate hate

It was hard to say that having a kid was a mistake. Because life was a precious thing. Giving life to willow was never a mistake. No matter the outlook they both had at the time. Their father so blindingly happy and the mother- her- scrambling for purchase outside the border. Making a sudden halt on every raid- every plan she has ever made to destroy her home- just for a chance- just for a sliver of family. When it all fell apart, the father dead - willow Missing she had lived yearning to breathe the sweet smoke of revenge again with brazen vigor.

It was easy to slip into the state where consciousness could not reach her. Where her ghosts buried any regret with their insistent screaming. For the remainder of her life- Obscuro lived there. On the edge of savage and sentient. Rampaging beast so angry she stilled. She could not eat, she could not sleep. Just trembled in rage until the realization was drawn. It was in that clearing Argus was made. Her body still stiff from the transformation, but ash and smoke still clung to her skin. The sins of her past live still an insistent reminder.

Argus felt the same trepidation of rage in her blood, she had the means of it- the capability so far from the edge of losing it she was in the air waiting for gravity to kick in. It pumped in her veins and it chilled her heart. A place that the ghosts of her past selves- her loved ones screams could not reach. A special place to curl into and remember that she is alive She is different but she can very much be the same. If only pushed- if only someone else had the means to push it out of her.

If she could limit her power she could, if she could somehow become mortal again- she would. But she was stuck in a fine balance. Control was so fickle now and her first choice- a clean slate completely was instantly rebutted. A kid would have little control of her overwhelming powers was a mistake waiting to happen. And Immortality was a curse she was not sure how to fix, if only control she had over it was remembering what she knew after each individual death she was dealt.

She chose to live and remember her first death under this name, and she could not afford to regret it. She weighed the cons and the pros and found a very little difference between the two.  She did not regret it, with each passing day she only saw opportunity in this flourishing world. Killua with so much potential, Lucifer and forgiveness.

Kayn and an end to manipulation to the lies she spewed. The typhoon as a diving board and Argus felt her own story unwind with each day. The careful chisel of each clanmate eating away at the walls: the hate the fear. It was breathtaking as it was horrifying.  It's no longer a wonder why clans are to be feared. As bad as the studious hands of her other’s, sanity wavering with each breath-

She… She needed some time away from the clan. Maybe it was way she stayed why she lingered within the snowbounds after confronting the deputy. The initiation still had it’s claws into her, leaving her raw an open. Wounds unseeable beside the frantic flick of her beady eyes. She needed- she had to get away from that clan. The memory of the other's chanting drilled into her core as realization drew- how very much similar to the other's who failed in her place before.

How willing she was to go, destroying any means of help- already she considered the clan her family and seeing the edges of a war brew between them and the tanglegrowth was something she needed to escape from. Maybe when it was all over she would go pay them a visit as well. Beck was certainly interesting.

But the bite of the cold is enough to bring her attention away from her thoughts, into the cold-pressed reality that she is lingering in a clan that is not her own. Snow clinging to her fur strangles a snarl from her throat, wings spreading only to snap back angrily. Getting rid of most of the snow along her back and the rest of her wings. Even if only for a moment.

Beedy red eyes catch on the black speck of the hunger touched memory. A lingering bad taste growing at the pathetic disposition of his shoulders. Mourning was familiar to him, memories of the moonlit night where Argus flew his issues away. Memories of the word 'puppet' being his own use to her then.

She is a different wolf now. White where she used to bear the mark of the night, red eyes dull where azure glowed once in the night. But it seems he has rather stayed the same. Still allowing pity and self-disgust cloud who he could be, who Argus saw the night she first gazed upon the night-kissed wolf.

"Kayn, it has been a while. Argus tries to snap the other of his own thoughts with a practiced smile. So very similar to that first night. "You seem troubled though, is there anyway I could help?" She does not offer her name or any explanation. She just arrives, wings pressing to her sides even as they wish to stretch and engulf him in something warm.

Even without kids, the need to mother is a wretched instinct she cannot bury.
[member=249]Kayn[/member]