Blackfeather Woods Following the Trail

Mawk's words were cast back at him like discarded litter, spat on as though they were foolish - stupid. His heart felt even more weighed down then, as though he had done wrong despite knowing he had not. "I did not mean to say that we should leave - I want to find whoever did this, they cannot get away with it." The man drew his tounge across his dry lips, a serious expression causing the furrow of his brows. Did they have so little faith in them that they believed he did not seek revenge on the bringer of this loss? "I just mean that we have to be especially careful. The borders may be poorly marked, but that does not mean there aren't lurkers hanging around. These wolves are dangerous - we know this."

Then the wrath of Illecebra was focused upon him, The fiery woman like a lion guarding her young - but Mawk did not rise to meet her challenge, simply taking a deep breath to calm his bristling nerves. "Cebra, maybe I seem calm on the outside, but I can assure you I am not calm on the inside." No, inside there was a hollow that grew with every second passing - the beast stirred within, the side that he had worked so hard to tame. He was doing all he could not to release it. Mawk's ears flicked back to press lightly against his head as the quiet words were spoken, a shameful look of sorrow passing over his gaze. "I hate them just as much as you do for what they have done." 

After his response, the man regained his solemn, silent mask that was so carefully constructed, for he could not bear to think of the consequences if he snapped. The group continued in, and Mawk pressed his nose to the ground to find traces of Burr - the very stench of this land had his senses reeling back in disgust. What drove someone to become a monster such as this? His gaze returned to his grief-stricken mate, watching her movements silently with a frown. Cebra began to dig and he approached only to see the ashen hue of his ears. The wolfdog's body began to tremble, shaking with the horror of the situation, and the hollow pit within his stomach grew once more. Then more of the scene was uncovered like investigators at a crime scene, and his breath hitched in his throat - he saw it.

It was like the world paused and every heartbeat was prolonged, each painfully slow beat a bitter thump of a drum. Burr's body was uncovered, but it brought no peace - not that he had expected it to. He just hadn't expected... this. His son's ribcage was wide, open, exposing the bones that lacked flesh upon their surfaces. There was no hope in that moment, and the buzz of flies that had come to feast upon the carcass only advanced the impulse to throw up. Illecebra puked nearby, and her scream of sorrow was like an arrow piercing his chest and spilling any blood he had within his body. It was a scream of loss, of terror and horror, and the noise made his eyes squint shut. He didn't block it out, only allowed it to consume his ears until that was all he heard, because he could not fight it. And there, the stoic man felt the moisture drip down from his eyes and splat in tiny droplets to the floor.

I'm so sorry I failed you, Burr.