The Bracken Woods don't look at me

There was no way Zamael could ignore Delight's call, even if he was inclined; the note of horror in it was far too pronounced. It came not from Broken Boulder, but from within the woods beyond, further piquing his interest. Dropping the bundle of flowers he'd been carrying around in his mouth, Zamael took off without hesitation, long legs carrying him swiftly--though less than gracefully--through the brush, sliding to a halt at the edge of the macabre scene.

Despite the carnage, his first thought was for Alarian, and he barreled toward the sobbing form, brusquely nudging--fuck, he'd have to apologize later--Delight to the side. "Alarian, hey," he murmured, nosing over his body. Covered in wounds, the worst of which a jagged gash over his eye; that would definitely need some care, and bile rose in his throat as he realized the seriousness of the injury. He then noticed the plant nearby, and panic--and some anger, too--struck him. He scuffed madly at the ground, kicking the bits as far away as possible, scattered to the winds.

"Nightshade," he said to Delight, eyes narrowed. "Don't fucking touch it. Don't fucking let him touch it. What the fuck happened?" Zamael demanded, straightening to look at the Chancellor. His eyes shifted, then, and the rest of the scene was revealed.

Runion. Except, not. Not anymore, anyway. His younger brother's burly body lay lifeless and bleeding on the ground. . .and his head a short distance away, eyes staring sightlessly ahead. "Stay with him," Zamael said to Delight, and then he padded over to the grisly aftermath, looking down, a mix of emotions warring for mastery of his senses. He felt like vomiting, and gagged--

--and then started to laugh, deep and gurgling, the sound rising and falling like an ocean tide. Looked down at his stupid fuckwad of a brother and just let loose, thinking of all the terrible things Runion had said and done. Bullying his siblings. Becoming their father's lackey. Mating Celia, giving her children. And in the end, he ended up just like his greatest hero: dead and headless. It was too much, and Zamael closed his eyes, his laughter eventually bringing him to tears of mirth. Mirth, and pride. Pride in Alarian, who had slaughtered the two devils of their family in such brilliant fashion.

The chuckles eventually subsided, and he cleared his throat, circling round the body. With one final sneer at Runion's face, he lifted his leg and began to piss, the gilded spray bouncing off his brother's forehead. When he had finished, he sniffed, taking a deep breath, then turned around again, looking at Delight.

"I'm going to go grab some moss for Alarian," he said casually, as if nothing at all had happened. "Be right back."