Bearclaw Valley lionizing

set near dusk today

as the sun sinks, so, too, does Avicus's heart into darkness. the night will bring with it more nightmares of the bear, and more visions of her brother lying broken at the white woman's paws.

except, ever more frequently, she is standing in the Saint's place, hovering above Aventus, blood in her mouth.

she cannot bide any longer. from birth, she has been the stronger, the swifter, the steadier. his head is in the clouds with his bear-god while hers is here upon earth, feeding her family, defending her land. she has always been his better—

but now, if some arbitrary title says otherwise? well, then, the only thing left to do is to seize the title.

standing near the rendezvous, she calls for @Aventus, a challenge in her voice. she is fed up, anger having mounted from their last confrontation, then still more when he'd shown her his teeth at the elk-feast. her fur bristles like the proverbial burning bush. her eyes are full of steel.

if her parents refuse to see and recognize her merit, she will show them herself.

and if they continue to elevate her brother—then to hell with them all.

Aventus did not hate his sister.

The feelings he held toward her were vastly complex, moreso than he was capable of untangling on his own. Before Nyra, Avicus was the ying to his yang; he thought their blood beat in tandem in their veins, demonstrated in the way they corralled the younger pups and tormented them, and though he had deferred to her in their earliest days, he had come to view her as his equal in all things. They could have stood strong and united before Ursus, together. Before Nyra.

His life was divided neatly in the middle by the white-furred Saint. Before Nyra, things were good. After Nyra, things were not. In the time since his attack, after the chilling encounter with his sister where she revealed that she wished him dead, or at least he thought so, Aventus could have benefited greatly from some form of therapy. He had never sought it, and his parents had never advised it, so he had never recieved help. Paranoia festered and rooted in him, growing alongside ambition, strangling him until, in desperation, he seized Evien's rank by praying to the bear to kill the gentle doctor.

Love for his sister turned to fear, turned to defiance, turned to threats. Quiet wishes for her demise, so that she would not threaten his own life. Prayers that his parents would see and recognize his loyalty, and not allow her to overturn him and send him from his home. Becoming Bruin-jaw had assured him, but now her howl thundered over Ursus and turned his blood to ice, knotted his stomach.

Aventus did not hate his sister, despite his spite toward her, but he wasn't sure how much longer that would hold true.

Both were capable, whatever she might think of him, or he of her. The son and daughter of Astara and Merrick were evenly matched by virtue of their birth. While Avicus spent her days slaying beasts and tasting blood, Avicus spent his studying the ways their parents operated, their tactics in battle, the way they moved. Each had their merits, and they would have operated excellently as a team, but there was a rift between them, and within, seething lava.

Aventus did not shy from her challenge. He approached with danger in his eyes and his voice, throat rattling with the force of his snarl, tail flung high over his narrow hips, hackles raised in a serrated ridge down the entire line of his spine. His tongue flashed over his teeth, threatening violence if she did not back down. Perhaps things could have been mended between them, but not like this. He stamped one forepaw and stood his ground, lashing his tail, pinning her with the heat of every betrayal against him curling in his iron eyes.

He suspected only one of them would remain to Ursus by the end, the other driven away by the teeth of the victor, unless sire or dam intervened.

he comes, the wretched shadow, posture held high as befit his rank. well, he wouldn't be standing so proud for long. Avicus returns his snarl, puffing out her chest and marching toward him with all the unbridled fury of a wildfire. their eyes lock, indigo into silver, a magnetic pull into each other. wonderfully compelling, violent.

bruin-jaw, she greets, but it lacks the subdued, obedient intonation from their previous meeting. it is two mocking syllables, slipping from her curled lips. it is a declaration of what she means to take—

yes, she means to take it. she does not want Aventus dead; she just wants him underneath her, where he belongs.

without another word, she lifts her head and aims, snakelike, for his muzzle, hoping to seize it between slavering jaws. should he move from his position—and he surely will—her mouth will connect painfully with his skull.

for now, though, the fight is all potential, and she will accept nothing less than total victory—even at the cost of her own life.

Ashlar heard the challenge but did not understand it.  A brother and a sister.  He did not know why they would fight, why they could not stand fast together and both have equal part of the bear.  Why did Avicus call?

With his tail tucked, Ashlar arrived late, sneaking hesitantly to observe with his eyes wide and worried. He had almost not come but something turned in his stomach.  They should stop.  This wasn't right.

But just as was true so many times before, Ashlar was frozen.  He could not force himself to move forward.  His throat was closed over and he couldn't call out and plead for them to  stop this.  All he could do, at the moment, was watch.

feel free to skip him if you wish!

merrick had known it would come to blows, and so had seen his actions at their hunt as a way to press them into it. aventus was brash. avicus was sordid. both were aspects of ursus necessary for its survival.
the bearking further suspected that his raven-queen might fall to the effects of the season, and as such, he could not have strife within their domain.
he watched his redgirl and bearboy with a darkening expression curling in his single eye as avicus snapped for her brother's muzzle.
he had enforced his son once; he would not this time, but neither would he allow much further.
prepared now, to wait, until aventus had reacted, and the bear-spirit whispering sibilant in his chest.

here her children were, the pride of ursus -- playing

no, something worse

fighting --

damn it -- they were supposed to kill others, not one another;

astara came on merrick's heels, a limp to her step and yet no less hasty. if she was too late, they might rip one another to shreds. one glance from ashlar, to merrick -- astounded -- how could he simply watch as her red eagle drove into her black bear, how, how?

her heart beat fiercely for her children, and it was only that singular song that kept her at bay. they must sort it among themselves, however cruel it felt to astara -- for there was in every wolf a pecking order, an alpha and omega, a hawk and worm.

The mute snowpelt heard the redgirl call, a challenge.
This was a dark evening, so it seemed, and Solaria trotted off to observe the fight like she assumed most other Ursus wolves would.

And by the time she arrived, a respectful bow of her head to Merrick and Astara first before her sunset-scarlet gaze fell to the siblings, now at war.

The moment her deep eyes met his bright ones, Aventus clapped his jaws in a fearsome bark and grew rigid along the length of his spine, aiming to intimidate and warn her away. Avicus had always been a strong wolf. Once, he had acknowledged her strength as greater than his and respected her for it.

But now his mind turned to loyalty, to faith, to areas where he felt that he was the stronger. He had been attacked by another wolf, but she had been punished by the bear spirit, and that was all the proof he needed that he deserved his place.

She came for him, and Aventus went right into the attack, splitting his jaws wide and moving fluidly into her blow. The rest melted away, the spectators, which was fortunate; he would have been offended to know his parents stood by and watched, supporting her foolish behaviour with their inaction. Wherever her jaws landed, it would hurt and possibly bleed, but it brought him close enough to aim his own lowered head for the side of her nape. He was a straightforward fighter with one goal:

Get her off her feet.

they are suddenly surrounded—not one, not two, three, no, four onlookers—like Aventus, she ignores them all. no one objects; no one intervenes. all she sees is her brother, and all she knows is the fight.

her teeth find flesh and blood and she bites down hard, savoring the feeling of being above him. savoring it too much, perhaps. she underestimates his strength, and the blow knocks her off-kilter, staggering backwards,

she mustn't fall she mustn't fall SHE MUSTN'T FALL

it's a half-tumble, her back legs giving way, her forelimbs splayed out before her. Avicus scrambles to get to all four paws; she has to, before he has a chance to strike again; her mouth tastes like iron;

feel free to powerplay glancing blows/cuts/bruising/etc from impact

they clashed, and merrick saw the death of ursus in it.
the bear the bear the bear th —
and all they had built, and all that they had lost.
ursus, adrift, and now his children without fellowship, without the tightwoven blood-bond he had always meant for them to have.
whited drops upon the ground
a ragged breath and then the bearking was bellowing into the midst of them, teeth bared and corded body bunched to throw them bodily aside if he must; merrick bore whatever blows he had arrived into, but command them to stop he did with a hotly fanged snarl, flecks of saliva foaming the base of his teeth —
"ursus dies if you do this," he warned them both. merrick had not stopped them before they had come to these blows, but this faded beneath his hypocritical ire, and his surprise that they had indeed struck one another.
glowering, tensed, half-mad-delighted by the fantastic idea that they would suddenly align to strike down the bearking who had tripped them into this morass.

The eruption of pain across his forehead and scalp almost makes him gasp and release her, but Aventus maintains just enough control to turn it into a squealed yelp through the fur in his mouth instead. He absolutely could not lose to his sister. He knew his sire saw something in Avicus that he did not see in his son—and he had no assurance that his mother valued him any greater.

If he lost to Avicus, he lost Ursus. He would never be elevated again, despite the promises Merrick made that she would stand alongside him. He would not receive the same favour. This Aventus believed entirely. He could not abide it.

He wrenched his body with her, feeling something give way, and with a vicious shake of his head he began the process of driving her off her feet and onto the ground. He would have the advantage, then. Murderous intent began to well up within him, the knowledge that if he did not end her life she would rise against him again and again and ag—

He was shoved aside by Merrick cutting into the midst of them and he turned his teeth on his father in a snarl, roaring with spittle flying, I have only ever been loyal to Ursus! That was the most that Merrick would receive from his enraged son. There would be no uniting of siblings to force their meddlesome father out of the picture. Aventus turned and fell upon Avicus with renewed savagery, struggling against her, slicing flesh wherever possible while sustaining the pain of her blows.

Avicus would flee, or Aventus would die; he would not stop until either of those outcomes came to pass. He would not run from Ursus, not even if his sire decided he had killed it in defending his place and his life.

Merrick's seed was just as fierce as he; just as Aventus whirled, so too would Avicus. i have only been loyal to Ursus! says her brother, and she lifts her head in affront. as have i, she snaps. 

then the fighting continues, and she knows in her bones that it will be to the death. 

it's him or me! she shouts above the melee, trying to land hits where she can. her body is focused on Aventus, but her eyes are trained toward the crowd, to her mother. Merrick and the rest be damned.

indigo into indigo, a question. 

i love you, i love you, i worship you above all others. do you feel the same for me?

avicus was looking to her mother —
merrick stared at her as well, likewise, before gaze fell back to the rampant violence of the bruin-jaw, meted and whetted upon the flesh of his sister.
a roar of rage, impotent in the face of it; merrick jerked away. aventus was not ready to listen to reason, but both of them squabbled in disservice to ursus, and only one would prevail this day.
but the bruin-witch refused to entertain this. to yank one from the other would be to choose; to banish them both would mean the fall of the valley.
he looked hard toward his ravenqueen. not quite a moon since their fevered twisting in the ruins of easthollow, and he set his eye upon the lines of her, searching, searching, as their cries and snarls and scratchings — as his children ended this chapter of ursus with their inability to be as fervent as he had meant them.
torchglow finding the hardened indigo fire of her own. there was no point to intervening. he had invoked the name of death upon their house and it had not halted aventus.
but he would not watch; he would not give this a trial; he gestured that vesta should come and silently looked to the corvid before following — their children had betrayed the bear, who was more than all of them.
salvageable, yes, but not until they had gone out and been humbled, and in the interim —
ursus would open another book.
merrick was gone, and only the silent seethe of his blackfeather bride would humble him now.

I figure since @Avicus is leaving, it's safe to powerplay this outcome, but please let me know if it's not okay and I'm happy to alter it!

For Aventus, this was merely the natural order. It had nothing to do with the bear spirit, nor the altar upon which Merrick had built Ursus. Avicus had challenged his place within the pack and disrespected him on two occasions, now. As Bruin-jaw, as her superior and the more fitting heir to the pack, it was his right to defend it.

And she had drawn blood first.

Alas, he was too busy savaging his own sister and sustaining wounds from her murderous jaws to notice the way his sire looked upon them, or even to notice Merrick's departure at all. He only heard Avicus' shout through a rush of blood in his ears and knew, for an absolute certainty now, that she would kill him to seize his place if given half the chance.

That seemed to be the push he needed. With a renewed vigour he went for his sister, and after some time scuffling, he stood over her in a furious blaze with every hair on end, dripping blood from a dozen wounds or more, with his teeth hovering dangerously over her neck.

In the end, he could not kill his sister, but his voice was a harsh bark with blood-spittle flying as he commanded her to, get out, NOW.

Vesta watched as Merrick tried to intervene, to get his children to listen to reason. 

Neither listened, and the brawl continued. 
Solaria saw the dark disappointment in her King's eye, and at his silent gesture, she fell in at his flank, assuming his wraith-wife would also join. 

With one last turn of her head, Vesta heard Aventus demand his sister's departure. 

In her mind, she solemnly thought that the end of Ursus was only beginning... 

But she had faith they would prevail.

betrayal, then. they will not choose, which means they choose Aventus.

get out, NOW —

— the barest whisper in her mind, drowned out by the screaming grief that is her parents' withdrawal from the scene. her brother's blows pale in comparison to the agony of being left behind.

he tells her to go, to get out, and go she will. there is nothing else to do, now.

Avicus gives her brother one last long, withering look, eyes cold and hard as packed winter snow. a heartbeat, then another. and then she turns and limps away, first at a walk, then at a wobbly trot. she passes @Ashlar along the way and gives him the barest glance;

he hadn't even the courage to face the coyote under orders; he would not follow her now.

blood-flower leaves crimson nectar in her wake, heading toward the border, out the valley,

gone

Ice in Avicus' eyes met molten lava in Aventus'. He met her look with one of his own, drawing himself up and snarling at her to hasten her retreat. He would have liked to follow after her, snapping at her heels like a true lead wolf sending another into exile, but Aventus wasn't confident he wouldn't falter in his stride and present a weakness to her if he tried to move from here.

When she was out of sight, he realized that the only wolf remaining was the frozen Ashlar. He shot the man a contemplative and severe look, but decided that the chocolate-furred Starbone was more likely to piss himself than to challenge Aventus in Avicus' stead. He didn't think he had anything to fear from Ashlar.

So he let himself slump to the ground, first into a shaky sit, then an outright drop to his belly. Only then did Aventus allow himself to take several hard, haggard breaths, and then he set about tending his many wounds, wincing with every swipe of his tongue over raw flesh.

Eventually, he would fall asleep right there, too exhausted from the fight and blood loss to even drag himself to a more secluded place.