Arrow Lake “red moon turns a red horizon.”

weeks had passed since he had left blodreina behind, but ingram had never once forgotten her. he felt sorry for the manner in which he had left — and had long since sworn to visit her grave once they were on their feet.

he had so much to tell her. of their daughter, how tenaciously she had carved a small part of the world out as her own — to be eventual worlida, to see to it her mother’s vision and legacy never died..

ingram had carried with him from the fen a stone that had been unearthed by the quakes. its’ features were unusual — and he planned to have it serve as a grave marker for his beloved. the stone was by no means small — its rough features were corrugated and uneven, which made travel difficult. he rested often, and would admire the stone as he turned it around in his paws.

ingram had no word for this stone, but he believed it to be oddly enchanting; it looked as if it housed a dying fire, with the edges burnished in cool copper. those familiar with stones would know it as sunset opal — but to ingram, it was the most beautiful hunk of earth in the world.

he carried it further, resting now along the edges of where he remembered diaspora’s claim to reach. what trouble him here was there was no scent of a pack — he hoped that none of them had the same grim fate as reina.

with his heart hammering in his chest, the Eyjolfur climbed the rise he had seen reina last. each step seemed weighed down by more than just stone, and a dread coldness seized him as he came into view of the palisade of stones that had claimed his mate away forever. a dark shape moved among the rubble — ingram placed the grave marker down with a click and watched, feeling his dread replaced with slow-burning fury as he recognized a scavenger among the ruins.

The mountainous terrain would have been intimidating to some. Were it not for his stout frame and the skilled nature of his limbs, even the fiery boar would not have approached the wilderness there. Even more than this, the scent of wolf that lingered in that area should have been warning enough for passersby. It was faint, so Iwaizumi did not fear that he would happen upon any unsuspecting hunters while he was scavenging for a meal. The scent of decay was thick in that area, which was promising for the omnivore. If he could find what had withered away, he would be able to fuel himself for a further journey.
 
Plodding forward, Iwa caught the scent of his treasure and briskly followed it until he had happened across the remains of a wolf. There was only a moment of pause while the wild pig blinked at the shape of the former predator. Nothing was to be feared from the dead. With a grunt, the boar moved closer to the figure and lowered his thick muzzle toward it. From there, he began to peel off the remaining flesh and meat and devoured it without question.
 
There was no need to let it go to waste, after all. There was no need for that beast to have died and left their body for nothing. The overwhelming smell of the dead had all but masked the aroma of the dark shadow that watched from a short distance. Iwaizumi did not lift his head to regard the predator. He continued to tear away at the bits and pieces of the dead. When he felt that he had gathered enough for that moment, Iwa lifted his crown and his beady gaze latched tightly on the looming reaper. A daring glint entered his vision, but the boar did not move from his place.

very few times in ingram’s life had he felt and been dispossessed by wrath — yet seeing the looming boar, and knowing intimately it’s’ business among blodreina’s stony sepulcher, ingram was immediately besieged by fury.

he did not think of diaspora’s borders. he did not think it odd their scent all but gone, no stern-faced mahler come to remind ingram of his betrayal. he saw only the ugly truth — the scavenger, the survivor — ruminating among the foul keep that marked blodreina’s grave.

ingram strode past the sunken opal, forgetting its fiery surface and the reason he had come all this way to absolve his grief. his vision was consumed by the coarse-headed pig, its snout rimed with the fleckings of his deceased mate. a low growl purled in his throat, his yellow eyes matching that inhospitable stare of his opponent.

and without thinking, the eyjolfur lunged into a seamless gallop — a snarl of sorrow and wrath gurgling over in his throat like thundercrack. fuck off, you bastard! he cried into the wind, his voice contorted by anguish. his eyes brimmed in hopeless tears as he lunged to save the memory and integrity of his lost mate, buried under ten tons of insensate rubble and forever oblivious to the seemingly endless toils of the living.

Powerplay permission was granted.

Something had lit a fire within the dark predator. The fury that had swept through his system seemed to come off of him in waves. Still, the boar was unmoved by this act. Iwa only regarded the wolf with the apathy of a true scavenger. There was no need to get so ferociously worked up over the remains of the lifeless. That beast no longer served a purpose on the earth. It had been swept away in the vicious cycle that would – in time – sweep them all away. What was more surprising was the violent outburst that had followed the fiery expression. For a moment, Iwaizumi felt his heart thrum in his chest with the kick of adrenaline.
 
The black beast was charging toward him. His fangs were drawn. There was no longer a sense of understanding in the sharp yellow of the wolf’s gaze. All that was there was an astounding loss. This act of violence was his final charge in an attempt to stand for what he believed – for what he had loved. To anyone else, it would have been an honorable thing.
 
To Iwaizumi, it was only a fool’s attempt.
 
When the dark wolf had closed the distance between them in a few powerful strides, the boar stood indifferently over his meal. It was not until the predator had lunged forward, jaws gaping, that the pig understood what this was. It was a test of strength, and he would not lose. In a single motion, the boar tucked his snout downward to protect the underside of his throat. It had not been a likely target, but he would not allow himself to make the most novice of mistakes when facing such a powerful hunter.
 
When the beast struck his shoulder and back, Iwa reared. His stout frame seemed to twist with surprising speed. Just in time for him to sink the razor edges of his tusks into the flesh of the wolf. If there was an outcry, it did not reach the boar’s ears. Instead, he repeatedly thrust his snout into the other creature’s body until he had found all his energy had been wasted on the dark creature.
 
Heavy grunts reflected his labored breath. Iwaizumi stepped back from the wolf and looked down at the lifeless body – a body that he had created. The pig’s snout was coated in a thick layer of blood. The taste of it was rejuvenating to the wandering warrior. It was as though the life of the wolf had entered him and had filled him with a new purpose.
 
The attempt had been a mad one, but the dark beast had found his fitting end. There his body would rest – beside his lover – until time had worn their bones down and they were buried beneath the everchanging earth. Before that time came, Iwa would devour as much of the wolf as he could. The boar would fill himself and then he would move on from that place. No amount of sorrow or love could have saved the dark watcher from the demise that he had met. Ingram could rest knowing that his final act was one of devotion, no matter how lunatic it had been. He could rest.

so ends my boy’s chapter.. bittersweet! thank you everyone who ever tolerated his shenanigans <3

fool’s attempt it may be, but ingram did not falter from his scarlet path. no scavenger would feast on his beloved.

he rushed, vision blurred by tears, and senses overcome by grief.

he did not stop, not even as the boar met his charge; not even as tusk thrust ruthlessly across the exposed side of his flank, unraveling him from within. no sound came as ingram’s eyes widened and lost their bloodletting sheen, the yellow of his gaze restored to the true sight of a man fatally stricken.

did it all come to perspective then? his life, his forgotten memories, his purpose and being? a kaleidoscope of visions danced in the membranes of his mind, and ingram only faintly aware of them.

he felt a grunt leave him as he landed, speared again and again by the pig that had gorged on his mate. he was only dimly aware of the noise of his body meeting spurred bone and fang; to him these visceral matters seemed far away, as if they had crossed some alien plane before reaching him.

a ruthless wetness spread down his chest and belly; somewhere within him a flame of agony licked along his nerves as he spilled outward — a purple gout of innards that snarled like an insidious snake in the snow. the immutable agency of this boar that claimed him at last was understood by ingram — he was death’s scavenger, made to do the bidding of intemperate fates beyond wolfkind’s understanding.

ingram blinked dumbly as he peered at his insides, spewed outward — and then his vision began to swarm motes of fiery black.

he sank to the earth demurely. his muzzle landed just so — glistening nose pointed in the direction of blodreina’s bare skull. in the sunfire depths of his gaze a darkness rose and dulled the life within in slowly spiraling shadows. at last his heavy lids closed, the tension along his knotted brow giving way to ponderous laxity.

ingram eyjolfur rested alongside his mate, finally at peace and breathing no more.