Moonspear my wings are fire, and you cannot break my will

OMG ARCTURUS WHAT DID YOU DO *sob emoji*

his grief had augmented into something else; perhaps tinctured darkly by the veil of frustration that coursed through him. arcturus didn't know it, but grief often bloomed into the most ravenous of angers -- it was as if sorrow was the wellspring in which the purest rage often sprung forth, rioted, and then burned so hot and sharp and clean that it was over in a flash.

just like that, he had snapped -- just like that, he had caused incorrigible, permanent damage to his brother.

he stepped back, shocked by the furor in which he had turned on his hounding sibling -- he hadn't meant to hurt him, he hadn't meant to strike true -- but these intentions didn't matter, did they? not when you were staring at your own kin, watching the blood (your blood0 you had a hand in extracting slowly trickle down your beloved brother's face.

he stepped back more, horrified to witness what he had done. and what had he done? a swallow worked itself, thick and lumpy and cutting, down his throat. rev -- he wanted to coarsely utter -- rev, i'm sorry --

but his tongue was leaden, his throat unmoving -- and as his brother wheeled from the atrocious deed arcturus had done, arcturus turned tail to run with his shame howling in torment after him.

arcturus -- wretch -- bloodspiller --

cain.