In his jaws did her pale bones rattle. 

For many long nights she had called out to him in fevered dreams - though they were not longing cries. They were howls of pain -- a somber wail of anguished sorrow that told the tale of a life cut short. It was an imperfect croon that drew him in, an otherworldly song only sirens sung. He knew even then that she had passed on. He could not shake her, nor the unwelcome feeling of dread that consumed him (it was actually guilt, not that he could ever recognize that). What lingered of her presence was something that both embraced and cursed every step he dared to take. Such was the way their complicated relationship solidified, perfectly tumultuous in life and in death. 

Vaati did not realise that to experience great loss came at such an emotional cost until the deliverance of her bones, after many moons of searching and idle waiting. It illicited a reaction from him unlike anything the brute had expressed before, the closest thing to remorse he would ever produce. A hollow stab to the soul, pouring out what little humanity Cassiopeia had filled within him. Perhaps it was only in that moment could he recognize his faults; how he had locked her away and shackled her spirit for so long. The brutality of it all was undeserving, and never would he have the chance to grovel at her feet and beg for forgiveness as he should have all those years before. But would he have? His actions, he ultimately could not bring himself to regret, but the victim... he had robbed himself of her. Perhaps if he had been more kind, they could have had more time. Perhaps not. 

Nevertheless, Cassiopeia deserved to rest among those who came before her, among warriors and priestesses. Among women just as strong as her on the grounds that forged her fire. He owed it to her. 

However, upon nearing the territory, Vaati is halted by the distinct scent of another groups claim within his ancestral home -- a strange and rancid taste intruding his senses. It caused him a great deal of confusion, enough for him to pause entirely a few yards away from the unfamiliar borders. Scylla had not informed him of this unwelcome development upon retrieving her mother's bones, but yet the interaction had been wordless and swift. Had Maegi willingly relinquished their families' claim to the dark woods? Or had she, too, perished? Though he had once garnered a distain for Blackfeather itself, the idea that an outsider had marked its vile piss over land that was Vaati's by blood did not sit right with the warlord. 

He inspects the scents for any sign of his brethren, entertaining the idea of simply entering even if none of his blood still resided in within the hallowed grounds. There was very little sense of critical thought to persuade him otherwise, for any potential consequences were ultimately, inconsequential to him. It was the same catastrophic ego that started wars, the overwhelming side of the scar-ridden man that would bend to nobody's will but his own. That part of Vaati had not changed and never would.

it was evidently clear that the present interaction would not result in him getting what he wanted. maegi was not amongst them, and thus she could not deliver cassiopeia to her grave. however, no sooner does the other find her voice, and with silent disbelief does vaati listen to her assertion. 

as the last syllable passes her lips, vaati cannot help the snort that escapes him, humoured by the gall the woman beheld. but the wry sentiment quickly dissipates, and the behemoth suddenly stomps forward a fraction, pushing the boundaries of distance that separated them. his pelage ruffles upwards to boast his size, a display of authority that would not acknowledge nor concede to the other's beg of submission. eldtrich did not frighten him, the brute had fought bigger fish and survived. 

with a calm malice on his tongue, the man returns the sour affection. "do not be mistaken, my blood runs through these woods. it is my birthplace, my ancestral home, and the resting place of my mother and her mother before. it was mine before you arrived and will remain so after you leave." the woods did not forget. it knew where its allegiance lied. perhaps not in his hands, but certainly not in the grasps of this outsider. perhaps what bothered him most was that she spoke out of turn -- it was not her place to determine the status of his claim for she was an outsider, trampling across land and history she knew nothing of. though he understood she did not fully grasp the meaning of his return nor the value of his families claim to the woods... she insulted him by suggesting it was worthless in her presence. 

vaati takes a pace backwards before turning to the woman who claims herself to be a melonii. "iksā melonii se ao rual bisa outsider naejot colonize īlva tegun?" his tone reeks of bitter disappointment, unable to hide his distain for the perceived lack of loyalty. however, he begins to think of what he is to do now that he has near made an enemy of these creatures, and plans to make an uninterrupted departure... unless his words had struck a nerve.

anger churns within the man as the interaction only continues to sour, save for an unexpected break in which one of their own bows before him. her words are kind, understanding, and he feels almost deceived. was this some trick to lower his guard? vaati's eyes narrow upon allana in suspicion, discerning wether the girl was weak or stupid for approaching someone who was clearly a threat to her brethren with such benevolence. regardless, the warlord considers, her indulgence is a benefit to him and so he tosses skull in her direction.

"she was a respected warrior. bury her in the redgrove if your sentiments are genuine." though his gaze is critical, he decides that if there ever came such a time, atleast one amongst their ranks would be spared.

perhaps their internal assessments of him were correct -- vaati was ignorant, foolishly impulsive, and he often thought without the slightest hint of critical thought nor any consideration of consequences. however, what was often mistaken as low intellect was rather the presence of a value system that simply lacked care for things he felt were beneath him, such as ivory rose. they were not hydra, not caiaphas, or even maegi -- all individuals who had earned a seat at the exclusive table that was vaati's respect. ivory rose was an inconvenience at best and its leader, a pest that stood in his way. he felt he owed their existence nothing, much less the graciousness of his civility.

as the unknown relative answers in a sentiment that is much to vaati's displeasure, a lip upturns in her direction. "blood traitor." the man snarls, spitting as the words leave his mouth. the melonii prized fidelity -- it was a pillar of their brotherhood. "the melonii claim is blessed by mephala herself, you have no authority to decide otherwise." 

before he is able to elaborate his attention is diverted to eldritch, who spouts off about insolence. ultimately, her words are in one ear and out the other for time and time again had he heard the demand of 'heed my warning or perish.' not once had he perished. 

vaati's glacial optics rest upon eldritch's skull, though beneath them a smouldering and ravenous flame burns in ire. "it is bold of you to assume that my family would be ashamed. as if they will not hear of this and return in numbers to reclaim their land. what will you do then, when the force of a dozen god-favoured heathens arrives at your door?" it was a complete fabrication. vaati did not necessarily know that would be case but then he thinks of damien, who was undoubtedly even more territorial and pious than he. if vaati's threats did not scare them, his uncle's would. nevertheless, the intent is not to promise war, rather, plant the seed in their minds that they are -- even for a brief second -- unsafe within the land they inhabited. 

the lack of true cause of all his outrage lied solely in the underlying reason that vaati was a severely proud creature, and the insult was too great to forget. he knows he will not win against the tooth and claw of their entire pack, and nor will he attempt it. but the long game was one he had played before, and was willing to do so again. before the rest of their troop arrives, vaati offers an insincere smile.

"enjoy your stay." the brute chides with snark, and dips his head only a fraction to oblige eldritch's ego. turning on his heels and neglecting offer a second glance. his retreat is swift and the thunder of his paws carrying him away from the dark woods felt all too familiar -- a rush of adrenaline drenched in a bittersweet nostalgia. vaati recalls how he had once dragged blackfeather woods through a war over a reason too insignificant to recall. wolves had bled for his cause, died, and he briefly wonders why anyone had allowed him live at all.