Mudminnow River i know i'm bad news, i saved it all for you
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In the end, it all fell on him. He could not do enough, could not love enough, could not be enough to prevent the crumbling of everything he had ever worked for. So he did what he did best.
Alarian ran.
He had told himself so many times it was not an option anymore, but suddenly— suddenly it was, and it felt amazing. Through the valley, past the Cuesta, out into wilderness and freedom— he was breathless with the exhilaration. No one would require anything of him again. No one would depend on him again, and by extension, he would never be a failure again.
He only stopped running when he was too exhausted to continue, trailing wearily along a murky river now. His thoughts turned now to the future— if he thought about all that he was leaving behind, he knew he would turn back. Instead he considered his options; staying near Samothes would be ideal, though he wasn't quite sure if it was doable anymore. Perhaps he'd see about him first— it was obviously the most pressing of his needs, right now.
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For a bit, he went out on a bit of a walk. On a venture. He couldn't lose his task in mind, did not plan to ever lose sight of what he was after. And just like that, he spotted someone not so far off. He froze, Runion knew exactly who it was. Again, he has found him. And this time...this time, he would take things further. 

"My, my!" he called out over to him. "Look here, who I have found!"
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He scented him before he heard him; for several beats, he was frozen. It was almost comical, really— no, no. Hearing his brother's words, he decided it was comical.
Alarian burst into near-hysterical laughter, though it was short lived. When he had recovered from it, he peered at Runion with wry curiosity. So you're going to, what, kill me, you fucking sicko? His tone veered dangerously between amused and angry in extremes. I know what you did, you know— I guess I get why you had to fuck mom, too. Couldn't settle for anything less than being the most disgusting shitbag, right?
Perhaps he should have taken more care with his words, but he didn't care. He had just abandoned everything he had to care about— what did it matter now? He drew closer, tail high and hackles lifting. I should have killed you when I killed Arnlith.
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Runion growled at the words, hackles raised. Those were stinging words, and he replied quickly, with equal poison. "I was there for her. You killed her, you know. Losing a son, and a mate...but when I told her what had happened..." He grinned, stalking to the side slowly. "She said she had no other son." A lie, aimed to stab right through. 

"Killing me would have only made things worse for you. Could you really have that on your conscience? That you killed almost all of your family?"
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Each word bit at him, more than they should have— he knew better than to believe Runion, but for some reason he couldn't stop the ache in his chest. It only fueled his reckless anger.
You're out of the loop; that's already on my conscience, He offered, closing the last of the distance between them and lunging. There was no time to think, no time to even calculate where he was biting— but he felt his teeth sink through fur and flesh, and clamped down hard. Alarian's hold was tight; he would not be loosened easily, and with this knowledge he tore violently at whatever chunk of flesh he had between his jaws. Some part of him knew retribution would be swift and cruel; the moment was worth it nonetheless.
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Runion was surprised by the aggression, it certainly took him by surprise as Alarian headed for him. Runion yelped out as he felt the bite, and he tried to reach about. He tried pushing back against Alarian, in an attempt to throw him off, to throw him down. Trying to get a grip on whatever he could, trying to bring him down.

And that he did, putting Ali down to the ground. He felt his own skin tear, however. But he ignored the pain. Using his weight he pushed Alarian down, hard. 

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Ah, well; to be fair, he wasn't actually surprised when Runion had him on the ground in about half a second.
Shit! The air left his lungs with the impact, leaving him gasping— oh, double shit. He had let go. Fuck. Alarian twisted to get away, snapping uselessly at Runion's face. None of the bites landed, and his brother's weight atop him effectively saw him pinned. He struggled nonetheless, writhing desperately and lashing out with sharp teeth where he could.
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Runion pulled him about, seeing a prime opportunity. Pulling Alarian over to stop his struggling, holding him by the nape and then moving his head to hit it against a rock nearby. For extra assurance, he did it again. He did not aim to kill, but the hit would surely be enough to knock out.
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At some point during the fight with his father, Alarian himself had employed a similar tactic. He still remembered the sickening crunch-thud of skull against stone, the way his body had seized beneath him for a moment. At no point had the boy imagined he would be on the receiving end. He could almost picture himself as he descended towards the rock, in that fleeting moment before impact.

He did not lose consciousness immediately. A strangled sound ripped from his throat and died instantly as he began to gasp, eyes rolling back. Intense pain seared across his skull, followed by growing warmth through his fur. Dimly he became aware of noise; sputtering, half-shrieked word-fragments— from his own mouth, he realized. Runion pulled him down again, and he panicked.
N— no
It was black.
done with your shit
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Ooc — Miryam
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While he hadn't noticed his brother's disappearance initially, the scent trail leading out of the territory worried him. The incident in Alarian's den had shown Zamael that the boy was teetering on the edge--that anything or anyone could set him off at any minute. With anyone else, leaving the Sanctuary for a while wouldn't concern him in the least. With Alarian. . .

He sighed and followed the trail, fur prickling along his nape as it wandered further and further from Broken Boulder. Down he went, through seemingly endless open land, until he came to the banks of a muddy, meandering river. The sound of a struggle piqued his interest, and he chased the noise, heart beating faster as he approached. Screaming. Alarian's voice.

Stomach churning, Zamael broke into an all-out run, sides heaving as he raced over a rise. Alarian, lying limp on the ground, bleeding--and above his broken body, a face he hadn't seen in years. A face he'd never wanted to see again.

"You motherfucker!" Zamael hollered out, belatedly realizing the horrendous truth of his curse. That took only a split second; another moment and he was charging toward Runion, heedless of the danger this put him in. Runion was bigger and stronger, but he had fury on his side. "I'm going to fucking rip your head off and shove it up your ass," he growled, just before he slammed into his brother, hoping against hope that he could catch him off guard and knock him down.
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Runion held his grip, he planned to bring this traitor down. He would have his fun, bring pain and suffering. That was what he planned to do...Untill someone else had arrived. Someone else that he knew. Zamael. Runion knew he could not fight both. So he let go, and swore that he would return. He would have his way one day, as he ran.
done with your shit
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He hit his mark, teeth sinking into the flesh of Runion's left hind flank. He would have attacked further, but he was left only with blood in his mouth and his heart in his throat as the coward turned tail and ran. He spat--though savoring the taste--and galloped after his brother, giving a merry chase for a short distance before realizing that his other brother--his vastly more important brother--was behind him, in terrible shape.

A deep dread washed over him as he loped back to Alarian, skidding to a halt and nosing over his brother. "Alarian!" he cried, but the boy was already out like a light, bleeding profusely from the wound on his head. Judging by the matching crimson smear on the rock, it looked like the bastard had smacked Alarian's skull against it, knocking him unconscious. That looked to be the worst of it, but. . .

But head injuries were bad, right? Fuck. Zamael raced down to the riverbank, looking for moss to patch up his brother's wounds. There was the matter of healing him, then getting him back to Broken Boulder all on his own-- Shit. Fuck. Fucking Runion. His fiery eyes scanned the land where he'd disappeared, anger curdling in his gut.

I already pissed on Arnlith's skull, Zamael vowed, bending to seize a clump of moss in his teeth. His lips curled in a snarl. Your skull is next, Runion.