Dawnlark Plains the city is burning around them

dauntless woke up the morning following his father's death and realized that he felt different. he grieved grayday's death internally ...and externally if the state of the soft tree root — still young and green at it's core — that has begun to push it's way through the earth and curve into the far back corner of his den was of any indication. it'd been tender when his teeth — in a fit of anger at grayday that followed the initial shock and heartache — had lashed at it again and again until it severed. the satisfaction had came at his victory only to feel a rush of guilt in his wake. but the tree mirrored him now — it was not dead, not dying but it was missing something vital and it always would.

his sisters were missing ...and now his father had gone where none but the dead could follow him. he still has his siblings, older and younger but he'd understandably been closer with lavender and easy than he had sunny and dawn; it was no secret that he yearned for their presence now. perhaps in another reality the trio was still together and grieved the death of their father together. yet, in this reality: dauntless was left to grieve alone.

he knows that he must strive to help catori and the cubs in any and every way that he can. that responsibility should not and would not fall to sunny and dawn alone. he was their big brother too. he draws in a ragged breath and shrugs out of his den knowing that there is work to be done. borders needed tended to, caches needed checked and restocked and he needed to drop in on catori and see how she was doing. knowing there is much to be done and not much time to idle dauntless sets off towards the borders first.

when he'd first came to morningside, grayday's second litter were children, just a moon or so older than the pups were now. now, dauntless--the only remaining member of that trio still here--was on the cusp of being a man. past that cusp now, probably, with his father's death. adi's eyes lit on the brown-hued male headed toward the border, and padded that way, face open and friendly.

"borders? can i walk with you for a while?" he asked gently, canting his head to the right. he fell in step with dauntless, though hanging back a little, waiting for his response. if he wanted solitude, then solitude he would provide. perhaps, though, the wolf sometimes called mirza would appreciate some company.

as dauntless walks, taking a path that is intimately familiar to him, his mind wanders freely. he does not focus upon one thought specifically; doesn't dare. he does not want to focus his thoughts on his father's death, nor his missing sisters except despite his best efforts it's where his mind goes nevertheless. not specifically upon one or the other but lingering on how hard it'd been to tell easy about burr and how hard it would be to tell lavender and easy if they ever returned about grayday's death. mirza wasn't sure that were was even a way to do it so that it lessens the blow ...but given their mia statuses he isn't sure if he'll ever see them again. khoe had been the first to abandon them and perhaps that flighty nature was simply in their blood because that's certainly how dauntless is feeling: abandoned. he does his best to shoulder and bottle those feelings because they are certainly selfish ones.

mirza is drawn out of his thoughts with a start and a bristle of hackles at the sound of approaching footfalls only to realize that it was just adyita. he feels guilt instantly as the wispy tendrils at his nape smooth back down and he offers the leader a sheepish expression. "yeah." dauntless offers in response to both of the older man's questions before he falls into silence once more, before he draws in a heavy breath and lets it out in a heavier sigh. "how's everyone doing?" after leaving grayday's body dauntless had isolated himself off from everyone. he didn't necessarily want to be alone but he, still struggling along that path of self discovery which becomes less of a path and more of a climb, is afraid that his grief will be an additional burden. he wants to be strong for his family, for the pack and like with burr's death he deigns not to show that he's suffering.

the boy's bristling didn't concern him at all; for all that had transpired in the last few days, aditya didn't blame him in the least for being on edge. certainly, it was better than the comatose state shale was in. . .right? thus permitted, adi moved up beside dauntless, still keeping a comfortable distance between them. he wasn't as close with dauntless as he had been with easy. . .but, perhaps with time, that would change.

his ears flicked at the question, shoulders rising and falling in a delicate shrug. "everyone is handling it differently," aditya said gently. "about as well as you'd expect, though. most of them are learning to move on. all you really can do."

adi cast his gaze at dauntless, then, face solemn. "i'm so sorry," he intoned. "how are you holding up?" the young man had always been the most stoic of his siblings, more like grayday than anyone else. he'd never seen grayday grieve, but he imagined it must be quite like this--quiet and determined, voluntarily removed from the group.

there is something in dauntless that recognizes his way of dealing with grief and death is not, perhaps, the healthiest of ways. or, at the very least, thinking that his grief would be a burden. that was certainly a toxic way of viewing his own grief. that he thinks he must pretend he is not grieving as painfully as he is in order to prove ( to himself or others ) that he is strong is all wrong. yet, he does anyway. he knows catori and the cubs need him. he likes to think that morningside needs him. dauntless offers the leader a curt, albeit appreciative nod as adyita gives him the run down on how others seem to be taking the news of their alpha's death. no one could ever replace grayday but they could keep the pack running and see it prosper in his memory. that was all he could ask for, as grayday's son. that his legacy so interwoven into morningside continues even though he has left the corporeal world behind.

"i'm fine." it was a stone-cold lie and he hates being dishonest but even still he keeps everything internalized even after recognizing the flaws in it. he does not say what he truly desires to: that he's hurting, that he's incredibly angry at grayday for abandoning him too. that anger feels worse than anything else and is definitely not anything dauntless wishes to capitalize upon with himself, let alone anyone else. "i know the pack is in capable paws," a compliment based entirely in honesty. he was not a leader but that didn't mean that he wouldn't challenge if he had a sliver of doubt that anyone that had stepped up to replace his father wasn't capable enough; but he has no doubts and thus speaks, "so i will turn my concerns and energy towards catori and the cubs." he would not leave them. he was not like khoe. he was not flighty. he was stalwart and unmoving. dependable. "i don't want to crowd her," dauntless admits to adyita, drawing in a deep breath. it had made him uncomfortable just watching everyone flock to and fuss at her when grayday's body had been discovered. "i will wait until the ...excitement —" it does not feel like the right word but it's the only word that comes to his mind; though it is not meant in the joyful spectrum of the word. his mouth twists unfavorably in evidence of his dislike of using that word for lack of a better one. "— dies down before i visit her and the cubs."

he didn't have to prod further to know it was a lie; he didn't want to prod further. no falsehood was good, necessarily, but there were some lies that needed to be told, if not to others, then at least to yourself. he'd heard that, sometimes, faking it 'til you felt it worked for wolves; perhaps it would work for dauntless. in any case, the young morningsider seemed keen to immerse himself in duty.

"i think she would be happy for your company," aditya responded warmly, thinking of how lonely catori must now be, even with the presence of the pups. "and the pups are growing so fast. eventide, the little warrior--he reminds me a lot of you. they would be happy to see you, as well."

he walked on, turning his gaze to the road before him. "i never got a chance to meet my own father. grayday was the only father i ever knew," he said quietly, voice pitched low and rough. "he was a good man. the best we can do is carry on, make him proud." he looked over at dauntless, smiling. "i think you're very much up for the task."