Hushed Willows they escaped the weight of darkness

for @Harlyn though i won't be upset if @Silas or @Larkspur or even @Pippin party crash this!

There was a distinct chill in the air when he brought himself around finally to the proverbial doorstep of the Keep. By now summer's grasp on the earth had left them fully, pulling the heat away with her to leave them with what may have been the first tease of winter to come. The days were beginning to curb their lengthy light and while the leaves were wont to give up their leafy coats, he knew it would come eventually.

The rocky climb along part of the border to the Keep gave him trouble, but the limp he had been sporting for some time was beginning to mend itself. He had weak skills when it came to healing, only bits and pieces he had gleaned from Harlyn's repetitive tending to the Hollow's kin. It hadn't helped him here and his persistence (and perhaps lack thereof) to return home had only served to irritate tender muscles. Stress and strain paired with looming mental anguish had not been kind to him either; Mordecai felt surprisingly timid making his way to an appropriate place to try and call Harlyn out.

When he had achieved finding such a location that would hopefully offer them privacy, he hesitated in summoning her. The words still hadn't came to him, not even ones that he could have used to offer her meager comfort with such horrid news. He hadn't the slightest idea that his family was more intact than he thought. But it was time to face the music—Mordecai raised his head skyward and called for Harlyn.

agalloch — "to drown"

The days were growing colder and shorter, which only made Larkspur feel bleaker. She had long since stopped socializing with the rest of the pack. For a while, she had still paid daily visits to Harlyn and Silas but it had been a few days since she had seen even them. Looking into her past made her spirit ache. Looking into her future made her sick to her soul. Living in the present alternated between apathy and misery.

It wasn't really a conscious decision. Spur idly climbed up into the foothills overlooking the Keep. She found an overhang and sat. The views were great but she was unmoved by them. In fact, she felt nothing at all for a while. Then she could have sworn she smelled her father's scent on the breeze. It triggered a soft crying spell which escalated into the sort of sobbing that seemed to wrench the very core of her being.

She didn't plan it. Larkspur just abruptly stood from where she had fallen to the stone in her paroxysms of grief, moved to the ledge and flung herself from it. As she fell toward the sharp rocks below, she heard Mordecai's voice ringing in her ears.

She had never really given up hope for him. Her hope had faded away from the forefront of her mind. It had darkened to points where it seemed as though it would shortly flicker out and all would fade to black. But still, it remained within her, unseen, unnoticed, and without any need to be tended. It had always been this way with the two of them ever since they had met. Where he went, Harlyn followed. And where she went, Mordecai followed as well. Whatever circumstances in their lives had separated them, one had always come to find the other in the end. It would be that way in this too, so Harlyn had believed without needing to actively will herself to.

That did not, however, mean that when his call sounded over the Keep, Harlyn's heart didn't implode upon itself with relief. Tears came almost instantly to her eyes as emotion broke over her typically composed face. "Mordecai..." she said softly to herself as she stood, stunned. Her surprise kept her immobile for only a few moments before a broad smile twisted across her face and she set off towards the borders to welcome her mate back home.

Two steps were all she took before she heard the crash. It was a somewhat distant sound, but it sounded loud enough to give her pause. Something about it made the hair along her spine prickle with unease. Harlyn looked back over her shoulder with ears perked and dread pooling inside her, as though the gods themselves were whispering threats into her ears. The pull was too strong to ignore, and soon she was running in the opposite direction, away from the borders and Mordecai, towards whatever terrible thing she knew her eyes would soon rest upon.

Harlyn had never expected to see Larkspur, but there she was, crumpled and broke at the base of the foothills that lined the edge of the Keep. No words could describe the sound of shock, horror and dismay that erupted from her throat as she tore towards her daughter. She rushed towards her, stopping just short of trampling her. Blood had pooled on the ground beneath her, soaking through her pale blonde fur. She looked like a doll that had been tossed carelessly down the stairs and landed in a tangle of legs.

Harlyn couldn't think, she couldn't breathe. All she could do was toss her head back and send a desperate howl renting through the air, summoning anyone, everyone to her.

He'd already been in motion, weaving quick and intent through the depths of the willows towards the first howl. So distinct, so almost unfamiliar since he had missed it so dearly. Yet it made his very heart sing with joy to hear it now. First Larkspur had returned to them, now Mordecai. Maybe Pippin would be next and finally their little family could be one whole piece again -- so he dared to think.

But, cue contrast in his mother's heartbreaking howl. He dropped the lead of his lope upon hearing it, all but stumbling messily when he got the sense that something was really wrong to hear her sing of anything but happiness on knowing Mordecai had evidently returned to them. Frustrated now, and with a racing heart pulling him in two different ways, he whimpered to no one in particular and now took off scrambling towards Haryln's call.

He didn't find himself paying the most attention to how he got here on his mother's trail, but he did. His breath came quick, veins thrumming with building horror. He'd already smelled the blood, and on the breeze, his sister.

Soon he caught sight of it. Silas' jaw hung slack, and he felt every piece of him sink. "Mom.. mom, Spur.." he sputtered as he crept close to her side, willing disbelief to be the answer here. This couldn't be right. As he looked on at his sister's crumpled shape, panic choked him. He stood trembling before this wreck, desperate to reach out and wake up from this nightmare.