Blackfeather Woods lord of the flies
Ghost
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All Welcome 
set after this thread

Peryite. The Lord of Pestilence, the god whose name Maegi bore. The bringer of plagues, destruction, death. Potema had likely named her so for her disfigured appearance, for the blight she and her littermates had brought to their mother's womb.

Well, and so be it. If she were a plague, then a plague of the highest order she would be.

She sat on the edge of the Weeping Meadow, just far enough away from the poison tree to only slightly feel its effects. Her head spun as she thought, thought, thought thought thought. Schemes, and plans, over-the-top machinations of her mind that all ended in one image: the sight of her mother, dead and cold, open eyes seeing nothing.

Eyes blinked slowly, one her father's bright orange, the other the deep Melonii indigo. Potema had said Meldresi would have killed her--and perhaps she would--but neither could deny she came from the bloodline. That she was irrefutably a Melonii, and would be until she drew her last breath. That the gods favored Meloniis, and they spoke to her as they had spoken to her mother, and her mother before her. . .

Peryite. She would bring a plague down on Potema, one day, a plague that would rip the woman from this world, remove her from Maegi's life for once and for all. It was so destined. Her name begged it.

Her vision began to double, but she sat resolutely, chanting soundless Daedric prayers. She let out a laugh, half-crazed, giddy with intoxication. Potema had thought her a monster, when she instead gazed upon a child.

Now the child was dead. . .and the monster was born.
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His sister had been upset after the three of them met with Cicero. Euron did not understand why, but he wanted to. He tracked her to the edge of the meadow with the willow in it. He had passed by here before, but had never gone too near. Each time he had he started to feel strange — like he would wake up somewhere else again and not know what had happened. It was not a feeling that he liked and so actively avoided it (although most times it seemed inescapable).

"Maegi...?" The boy called out hesitantly as he spotted her. She was laughing and saying weird things. Euron's ears fell to his skull. Did this place do something to her? He did not want to get any closer and his paws kneaded the snow anxiously. "Maegi, come to me!" He shouted, his plea tapering into a whine.
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She heard a faint voice behind her, and turned to look. In her dazed state, she thought it was Cicero, come to fetch her away from the tree once more. Upon closer inspection, though, it was in fact Euron, eyes filled with concern. That was good, then. Euron she'd speak to;  Cicero. . .

"Euron," she greeted succinctly, after taking a few wobbly steps to meet him. The edges of him were blurred, undefined, as if he were one of the many spirits that haunted these woods. Was he dead? Was she dead? Perhaps all three of the Blackfeather babes had been killed by their mother upon birth, and were doomed to walk the earth and terrorize Potema for her sins, forever.

"Don't get too close to the tree," she said matter-of-factly, her tone tinged with the sort of haughtiness that came from carrying wisdom others did not know. "It's poison." Though that didn't quite explain why she had been hanging out there. Something drew her to the sickly place; she felt more spiritual, more peaceful here.

"What is it?" Maegi asked, her voice sublimely casual.
Atâtak Atsanik
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Kove’s just lurking in the background for now—feel free to skip if neither take notice to him. ^^

Another solution to his ailment had been found: moving. He found that, as long as he kept active, the pain in his joints was easier to ignore, as well as kept from intensifying with the stillness of being motionless. Thus, he walked—patrols kept him going, usually, as did navigating the tunnels. Some days, he just wanted to walk, however, as he was currently doing. Maneuvering through the woods, he mostly kept away from the most frequently travelled paths, essentially avoiding the others; he had no words to share and decided long ago that many that joined the woods were not wolves so desirable as to sit in absolute silence with. But total isolation was not something so easily achieved where the shadows lived, so he wasn’t too surprised when voices were eventually heard just ahead of him.

Normally, he might have adjusted his path so that the speakers were avoided, but the familiarity of their voices—and realisation of what he was near—drew him closer. As he covered more ground the effects of the tree started to reach him, spindly fingers reaching out and attempting to drag him in. With a shake of his head, he tried to ignore its call, focusing on where he was going instead and then stopping just before the trees gave way to the clearing. From there, he found the pale coat of the girl with ease; he observed the children and listened in on their conversation, waiting to see if he might have to remove them from the area. For now, he was in no rush to do so, their distance from the willow satisfying enough.
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Euron's ears swung to the sides and back as if straining to collect sounds from unknown sources. It was his uncertainty showing as he watched his sister come his way, wobbling and acting like there was nothing amiss when she had been cackling maniacally a moment ago. She told him the tree was poisonous, and he narrowed his eyes suspiciously. More so because his sister seemed to know a number of things that he did not, and it both bothered and intrigued him.

"How do you know? Why do you come here then?"

He did not notice Kove in the trees, his attention squarely on his sister except for the sideways glance he threw to the willow once in a while, as though he expected it to get up and walk toward them. The suspicion left his face quickly, replaced with some indescribable mix of worry and curiosity, followed by more questions he wanted answers to and even then he restrained his tongue from asking more.

"Why did you leave? Why were you upset about Cicero?"
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There may have been movement nearby in the trees, but the poisonous spores had clouded her mind too much for Maegi to distinguish between what was there and what was not--what was real and what was imagined. Ignoring it--for now--she looked at Euron.

"Cicero told me," she responded, a distinct edge to her voice. She had not spoken to Cicero since their last meeting. Maegi was craving more knowledge about poisons, but she hadn't been able to bring herself to face the man who had illicitly fathered them. "It's calming, I guess. And interesting. But you can't get too close, or you get sick. The sick part's not fun."

Her eyes narrowed at his second set of questions. Was he really asking this? Had he not become upset by Cicero's revelation? Did her brother realize what it meant for him, for her, for Ramsay, and for the Woods in general? Potema's admission had only solidified the sinful nature of their conception, but she had known from the moment the words had fallen out of Cicero's mouth that something was off.

"Cicero and our mother are brother and sister," Maegi explained, trying to sound as patient as possible. "Brothers and sisters aren't supposed to have kids. That's weird. We're not going to grow up and have kids, because that would be weird." She gulped, leaving out the messier details Potema had lobbed at her. "But they had kids together, and I guess that's why we--me and Ramsay, anyway--look so weird."

She knew Euron would disagree with that last bit. He had always been a champion for their unique looks. But Maegi knew her impediment was just that, and Ramsay--well, Ramsay, gods love him, was sort of a freak show. Nothing like any other wolf she had seen.
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He listened and he tried to understand but he could not. His sister had basically told him that everything about them and their family was weird and that explanation — if it could be called that — would not suffice. She succeeded only in providing him with more questions and more confusion

"But you don't look weird." He protested — just as Maegi expected him to. "I do not understand. Why does it matter if Cicero and Potema are brother and sister? Why is that a bad thing? How does that..." Euron furrowed his brows and swished his tail. "How does that have anything to do with your paw and Ramsay's... all of Ramsay."

Euron sat down with a wince. He lifted his paw to scrub his ankle against his temple. There was another headache building there. One he assumed was because this was a bit much to try to wrap his mind around.
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"I do look weird!" Maegi burst out, sudden anger overtaking her. "I look weird and Ramsay looks weird and you. . .well, you're okay." She lets out an irritated snort, a puff of hot air through her nostrils. She was tired of Euron's ignorance on this subject.

She shook her head, not in response to any one thing, but more in general disillusionment. "I dunno why exactly. But it's weird. And besides, Mother said so." The last three words dropped from her mouth like blocks of ice, hitting hard on the cold forest floor.

"And I know, she hates us. But she's not stupid. She wouldn't be so important in the Woods if she was stupid." Maegi looked down, remembering Potema's vitriolic words. "Sh-she said that. . .well, whatever it was Cicero and her did to have us, that it was bad. That it was why we looked weird."

She gulped a sudden breath of air, feeling overwhelmed. "She hates us because Cicero. . .her brother. . .is our father. Because it's. . .wrong. It feels wrong."
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Those ice blocks shattered on the floor of his mind and reverberated in his skull at length; cracking and echoing over and over. 'Mother said so'. Once he had nonchalantly accepted what their mother was to them — little more than begrudging warmth and food in their infancy and nothing since — but it was an insult now and it rankled him to hear his sister defend her in any way and to know that the two of them spoke and shared a personal conversation.

"It does not feel wrong to me." He answered and there was cold distance in his tone. The warmth, the concern and the curiosity that once characterized his speech and his expression had dissipated. "It feels wrong to call her our mother. It feels right for Cicero to be our father." Euron clenched his jaw, biting down on his anger and an onslaught of other indistinct and bothersome feelings. Cicero had been there for them, had wanted to be there for them. Potema had been forced. Cicero paid them attention, and taught them, and was good. Potema had left as soon as she could; she was all that was wrong.

He winced. The ache in his head was persisting and each throb was more severe than the last. It burdened him with a sudden exhaustion. Euron disengaged despite his want to correct Maegi and make her stop thinking such foolishness. He took a step back and slowly shook his head, and in doing so, staggered and nearly fell before he gathered himself and cast his sister a sullen look. He opened his mouth as if to make one last argument... but changed his mind.

Sighing, Euron turned away, murmuring, "I love you," as he made to leave.
Atâtak Atsanik
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Although he’d remained, Kove did not focus too intently on their conversation; it was not his business nor of any actual interest to him, his only reason for staying being to ensure their well-being. Even still, it was hard to fully block out the intensity of their exchange, and he’d unintentionally picked up on some of it. But he didn’t think too much of it, nor would he have had any chance to had he been interested, for the boy had turned to leave. Now feeling more inclined to intervene, his place within the shadows was abandoned as he made his way towards the girl.

The willow urged him closer to it, its pull something terrible, but he remained as clear-headed as one could in such a situation. He kept moving forward, steadily decreasing the distance between himself and Maegi, until he was hovering at her side. Still silent, he was patient whilst waiting to see what she might do next, her actions being what would decide his next move.
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Maegi drew forward, hoping to soothe her brother as he winced and staggered. She knew not what was wrong, only that he was upset, and it was affecting him physically, too. Before she could touch him, however, he stalked away after murmuring those last three words. "Euron, wait--" she called out--but he had already disappeared into the trees.

Despondent, she sank down once more, sitting on her haunches with a sigh much older than her body. She knew what he meant. She didn't want Potema as a mother, either. And Cicero had been wonderful to them; she was proud to have him as a father. But those two, together? It wasn't right. She had thought so, and Potema had confirmed it. It wasn't right.

Kove slipped into view, and she jumped slightly, adjusting her features to neutrality and standing up. He came to her side, and she swallowed thickly, not knowing really what to say. She wondered how much he knew. About Potema, Cicero, their heritage.

"What did you hear?" Maegi asked, her voice small.