Dragoncrest Cliffs one more moment of this silence

Alone, and late in the afternoon, for his break from patrol, he made his way towards a spot overlooking the sea—one he knew well, one that had seen its share of sunrises and sunsets, with the good and the bad across the years. He hadn't come in weeks, however, and hadn't cared to with everything happening. Now, with all that was newly impending and Artaax freshly returned, he felt the need to shed these attachments soon, and these weren't even the worst of it.

None of it was coming easily, yet, although he had done it before. and he knew the need. Age had set him in his ways evidently but strike after strike drove the point home to leave him no other choice—it was this, or agonize. Their to-whelp mothers had chosen the sanctity of the wilds over their own cliffs, elected the fate of such unknown instead. Their strength suffered, a warrior down before that even, and others going too, considering he had only barely involved himself in Ephraim's tethering to the cliffs. It wasn't good. They had fragmented already, perhaps irreparably so finally after loss after loss had weakened them steadily over the winter and beyond. By now, the pale wocha was bitterly numbed.

He greeted the sea's horizon with a frown. None of it was what he'd hoped. None of it had been for so long. He mourned, even still, for those gone and still here too but very soon, he may never return, either.

for @Tirgatao

'I'm just glad you're here...'
—'There's no where else I'd rather be than here with you...' 

The news of Ephraim's escape came from @Bobby's lips first, but Tirgatao could only muster enough energy to stare blankely. Why should she be surprised now? The ship was sinking, and the rats were the first to sense it. How many more would she be forced to scratch from their history? She didn't return the caverns again. Between her misbegotten desire to comfort Heda's firstborn, and only children, and her bleak outlook on their future, she knew her presence would be unwelcome at worst, and disregarded at best. They were grown now, but hollowed by the loss of—

She glimpsed him through the trees as she neared the cliffs and as if affixed to the only standing pillar of what once was, Tirgatao wordlessly gravitated toward the Wocha until her shoulder brushed against his flank, stopping only when she could look him in the eye. Her heart went out to him; to his loyal children—to Portia. Her mouth opened, but she could form no words to commit to this liminal space between what Was, and what Could Be. 

A frown furled across her inky lips and her burnished copper gaze shifted to the vast horizon. 

"All good things come to an end someday," she murmured, "I only wish we could have ended it mercifully, rather than this... slow, festering death." 

Tirgatao's arrival was met with a glance first, and a low greeting rumble second to let his gratitude be known. Her company was familiar, easy, and far more steadfast than most as his ears turned sadly to her truths.

Festering. Truly, he breathed with a mighty sigh and shake to his head. With the grimace her words inspired, it was getting hard to hide. Not at all what it deserves, he spoke on. Not the cliffs and not any of them, but a downward spiral had begun moons ago it seemed. These constant currents that both multiplied and persisted didn't help and now, they were crumbling from the inside out without Antumbra as their Heda and strife continuing. He wanted to brush it aside that they had grown spoiled and then complacent, evidently, in her graces and in the peace, but this was becoming a bad luck far proceeding anything resembling her final days, and never had their hearts been able to find real tangible peace in months anyway.

Not how I'd imagined, either. But, he gave half a pivot towards her, though the spot on the horizon kept his sights pinned. You think it can be for the best, in the end? They were going to keep to their trend of loss here at this rate. A few scarce pillars, some aged and cracking, couldn't hold the weight of them all anymore. They mourned, agonized, over what it had been and should be, then to what effect now? Dio rightfully didn't know what would await them in Trigeda, or wherever else inland it might be. Here, and the volcano before, had been carefully cultivated into his everything.

Easy, familiar, and a tether bound to be severed upon arrival in the bustling, ceaseless activity in Trigeda—Dio was a constant and Tirgatao wasn't entirely certain she was ready to watch yet another facet of her life for the last two years fade to a dull, colorless acknowledgement of the past. 

She caught the flicker of emotion out of the corner of her eye. He was good at hiding it; better than most, but the weight was heavy now. A chain dragging them down; choking them. She would have gladly traded suffocation in the jaws of their enemies than watching their family splinter. They were the only shadows left now. Echoes haunting the woodlands that once teemed with life. Her eyes fell away until they settled between them, then sidelong to the grass swaying lazily in the wind. 

Her breath hitched at his question and she swallowed against the knot in her throat. She did not weep; would not. 

"There is nothing left for us here. Drageda died with Heda," she answered with grim finality. "I would sooner see us scratch these waning weeks from history, and close this chapter on her... choice," Tirgatao tucked her tail against her hindquarters and, finally, turned her eyes in search of his own. 

"Where will you go?" 

No amount of time would have left him feeling totally ready to face sheer sense of finality these last days had to have. It came through as a haze, but it wasn't new. Not since heda's death and he knew it, and she knew it too--so why it would be easy to forget, lost to what could hopefully be better days beyond. I agree, he said lowly. Between the two of them, they had seen the histories unfold far more than many, and maybe with them, the strength could yet live on. Heda had given them that, and whether they wanted to, they had to follow her will onto the next--which he was unsure of, for Antumbra left a huge hole in his heart after all the years he had spent at her side. I know I haven't felt right since, he grumbled. He breathed some great, heavy sigh through his nose as his ears slicked back a notch then. Hearing any it did not come easily yet, but finally, these stormy winds were finally enough to have to uproot him.

His thoughts on what came next, though? He was not overly thrilled with them. For now? To Trigeda. With Blixen.. plus Artaax, Robin.. the rest too. Tirgatao might understand well enough without it needing said. Dio had become all they still had--even at his well-aimed distance as a guardian and support. After Wildfire turn-tailed on them, then heda's cliffdive, it was hard to simply ignore it when their success mattered this much to him.

Desperately he wanted Opalia and Dacio to come too, but they were at a willful age, and he swore he saw vengeance in their eyes more than once and that worried him greatly--but they were a private matter between him, and them, as their last, more involved parent too. Dacio still wanted to see Dalia per his mother's dreams? Opalia wanted to scout? He didn't need any of that, either, and hoped that in the next days-to-hours that he could persuade them otherwise.. to simply turn away from their birthplace, leaving enemies to sleep cozily beneath the cliffs while they headed off to lands unknown. Well, he had that to look forward to unfortunately. What of you? he asked back and found himself quietly invested in the answer, and paired a slow glance her way. Admittedly, it's not been easy to settle with, even if it may be right. Not a decision he could afford to take lightly. But I've never been.. so,  first time for everything. Not that he had ever planned to and especially not in so many years. His place had always been here, but his place had always been with heda once too.