Dragoncrest Cliffs clean-up on aisle what the fuck
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#1
All Welcome 
set pretty soon after the war, not more than a couple of days

He'd gotten his wounds tended to as much as they could be, this fresh. He was sore all over and covered in blood--and he felt fucking fantastic. Seriously, top of the world. Adrenaline rush. There was nothing quite like a good fight, especially against wolves that you didn't at all care for.

Verx was looking for some of the younger wolves, though, who might feel a little differently if it was their first go. He remembered his first, vividly. Nauseous the whole time. He might have even puked; he couldn't remember a battle that far back. Blood and guts and death. . .that shit was horrifying if you'd never seen it before. A nightmare scenario.

So he hoped they were okay. They would be with time, and coaching. But for now--

What the fuck? Vercingetorix exclaimed softly, stopping dead in his tracks and staring at the dead son of a bitch laid out in front of him in a pool of dried blood.

If it had been warmer, the carcass would have been swarming with flies and stinking to high heaven. The cold, fortunately, kept most decay at bay, but he was still a gruesome sight. Throat torn open, glazed eyes gazing at things the living didn't see. Whoever took care of him did it right. Verx was impressed.

Impressed, and confused. He called out for any involved parties, looking 'round the redwoods.
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#2
Easy was nearby when the call came out, and she was eager enough to make use of herself that she didn't really register who the call had come from. So, when she came upon the scene, it was to two rather jarring wake-up calls - a dead body, and that weird guy, Verx.

"Uh oh," said Easy, deciding that the dead wolf was the more pressing matter. She moved forward without much thought to sniff the carcass over. "It's not Drageda, at least," she offered, but other than that, it was still a pretty weird thing to find lying around. She was struck, suddenly, with the thought that her father had likely been found just like this - but she couldn't imagine Grayday looking like this, so the thought didn't really stick.

"I thought they all got away," she said to the male, feeling a little discomforted by the whole thing, but not by much. Things died all the time - this one just happened to be a wolf.
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He shrugged, rolling his gaze over to meet hers. Guess not, he said succinctly, mouth quirking with wry humor--and indecision. What the fuck were they going to do about a dead body in their front lawn? Even if they'd put it there in the first place, it was still a pain in the ass.

We could eat him, Vercingetorix suggested, albeit weakly. He wasn't really a fan of food that he could've had a conversation with when they were breathing. Then again, it was winter, and they needed all that they could get. Skinny wolves didn't do well in the snow.

Blegh. What would you do? he asked Blackbear, tail swishing idly behind him.
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Easy, for her part, had very little compunction over the act of eating meat, no matter where it came from. At Morningside, they left their dead for others to scavenge, only returning to claim a bone or two when the wild had picked them clean. Why should they not act as the wilderness for someone else's dead? Were they not all children of the wildness, after all?

Eat them, she answered without pause, moving to sniff over the stranger more thoroughly. It smells clean. Why wouldn't we? she asked, beginning to pick up on Vercingetorix's hesitation. A worry tickled at the back of her mind - the only explanation she could really think of. Did you know him or something?
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Nah, he said, shaking his head. His mouth twisted slowly into a frown. I just don't eat other wolves on principle. This dude--he was just like me, once. Only thing separating us now is that I survived and he didn't. He didn't really deal well with bodies. Usually, it was kill and split. They smelled, and rigor mortis was creepy as fuck, and honestly--

They reminded him too much of his own mortality, which was a subject he didn't really like to meditate on.

Verx let out a sigh, peering down. It was the mouthy dude that had harassed Heda the other day, the one she'd turned away. Looks like he'd gotten his wish--his remains would live here on the cliffs forever, at least in some form. He hadn't wished him well then, but Vercingetorix hoped he'd find peace in the great beyond. If there even was one.

He glanced over at Easy. What if we toss his body back into the sound? he asked. That way they can have their guy back, and he doesn't have to hang out here and creep everyone out.
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#6
Although she made a face about it being on principle, Easy didn't say anything to refute his beliefs. Everyone had something weird, right? And she still thought it was a waste, but it wasn't as though they were hurting terribly for food, and Easy didn't like the taste of predators very much either way. It was gamey and tough and the male didn't look like he had that much meat on him, anyway.

Still, she wanted to insist they not waste it, just on principle, because that was something she believed in.

"I guess," she reluctantly agreed. "I suppose I'm not really in a hurry to eat it if it's been lying here." Preserved nicely by the cold, though. And Easy didn't see what was creepy about it.
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He didn't understand why she was being so weird about him being so weird. But whatever, the girl was a cannibal. That had been established. Apparently, though, even cannibals had expiration dates to keep in mind.

Help me drag him, he said, lowering his head to the man's scruff. The unmistakable smell of death entered his nostrils, and Verx shuddered, trying not to breathe too deeply. I'm afraid if I try to drag him to the edge myself, he'll fall apart.

Maybe not, though. He might be too frozen for that.

Vercingetorix set his teeth in the cold flesh, impatiently waiting for Blackbear to grab another part of him.
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Easy didn't need any prompting. She was and always would be a team player at her core. The mottled shewolf dipped her head to grasp the wolf's haunch in her powerful jaws and began pulling alongside Verx. Although it still seemed wasteful to toss a body into the ocean, she supposed the earth would still get some use out of his body.

It was no help to Drageda, but she was more concerned about fitting in than storing food, at the moment.

Together, the pair brought him to the edge of the cliff, where Easy paused to look down over the edge. It was a pretty steep drop, and part of her wanted to try and find a way to scale it - but there were several reasons this wasn't really feasible. "You wanna do the honors?" she asked, still preoccupied with mapping out the terrain from above.
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Sure, he responded, looking over and giving her a nod. With a grunt, he dragged the corpse as close to the edge as possible, and then gave it a strong nudge with the top of his head. It rolled ever-closer. Another nudge, and it lurched forward and down, tumbling down the cliffs with a sickening series of thumps.

So long, asshole, Verx muttered, stepping back, face inscrutable. He took a moment to wonder whether his body would share a similar fate one day. Tossed into his territory by the enemy. It wasn't altogether hard to imagine.

With a sigh, he turned to Blackbear again, rolling his shoulders. Thanks. I appreciate the help, he said genuinely, voice full of humility for once.
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#10
Vercingetorix said something to the meat. Blackbear was almost offended before she realized he wasn't talking to her, and then she was just a little weirded out, because who did that? But it was already an established fact that Verx was weird as fuck, so she filed it away and tried to focus back on what she'd been doing before.

Then he did talk to her, and she dragged her eyes away from the land down below with a distracted, "Huh? Oh - yeah, no problem." It was still a waste, but she was glad it seemed to make him happy. "Well, thanks for the adventure. I'd better get back to what I was doing."
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Cool. Later, kru, he said cheerfully, resisting the urge to give her a jocular nudge before taking off. He cast one last look down the cliff, wondering just where the man had landed, before shuddering and heading back into the redwoods.

He hoped to all the gods there were or weren't that he'd have someone that gave enough of a shit about him to give him a proper burial, at least. Because breaking into frozen chunks on your descent into hell wasn't a very appealing way to go out.

RIP, Eurycrates.
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