Moonspear I'm the biggest, the best, better than the rest

Fresh from the last trail Speedy cut fleeing their mountain's slopes, he hung close to Hydra's side as a protective, willing shadow after she had called him back from the pursuit. He beamed quietly in her praise, and relished the energy spent. They had done what they needed to, he believed, although he acted solely on his sister's whims, passed down to her from the matriarch most likely in part--and he was remarkably at ease as a weapon for their cause.

 With Lyra opposite him and his ears up tall, they began their move back home--so a soft worry was returning with the face of the Spear ahead them. He guessed they might return to their mother next, for he knew Hydra had been with her prior, and that Dad had called for her earlier sometime. Jarilo couldn't paint the whole picture, but he had come to suspect based on what he knew now that this was all the plan of the women he followed--that Ame would keep Charon busy, occupied somehow so he couldn't interfere, while Hydra set out and ousted the root of the issue. With that done, now all that remained was seeing how mother had fared on her half of the business, and he trusted that she had.

But he smelled blood, and not prey's blood. First.. there was an unknown, like.. a bear? Hydra's howl for the brothers made his head spin--what else was going on here? Was more going on than he had imagined? That wasn't all, that definitely wasn't it. As they kept going, he breathed in worse and she was off like a bolt of lightning after, and he was with her in his very next instant, soaring his longest strides over the paths to what awaited until he could finally see.

He staggered like he had been struck, eyes blown wide and fear coursing so powerfully that he forgot to surface for air until he had to with a gasp. A gruesome, awful scene lay before them, and processing it came with such a real panic that he had never faced, and not even close. He still followed after Hydra on some instinctive autopilot, and registered Arcturus' presence along the way. Worst of all, he could slowly understand, though had not seen it transpire; their coats were dirtied, bloodied, down here.. he could scarcely tell where one began, one ended, if not for their contrasting light and dark. His father's face was torn apart, her wounds more grievous than he could even see for she had pressed them against him, both battered far worse than he could even imagine possible. It all dawned on him slow, but true. Mama.. he whimpered, suffocating on his cold fear as his eyes raked desperately over them, wishing it would all go away and they would be like they had been. Dad..!! he whined as his eyes welled straight to tears and his posture went wilting as he came to them hesitant, like if maybe he didn't disturb them, this wouldn't be real. When he reached them, he crumbled next to his fallen parents, wherever he could be despite the blood and the horror just to feel them both still with him like it always had been.

To the grayscale son, it was unusual to find them together lately, no less shaped like this. His father had been near the focal point of all their chaos lately, making him uneasy. His mother had been barbed in these recent weeks too.. he had seen it firsthand, and had been right to carefully chance her company whenever he could as he had felt something wrong. Now he knew why, but that had always been his lifetime: an annoying pest of such curious reverence that she had begrudgingly learned to tolerate more for all of his persistence because he was hers to shape before all else. In his upbringing, where Vela had taken their father's favor first for her obvious reasons with one look at her, Jarilo had naturally veered towards their dark mother even harder when their littermates were gone too--eager to please, and wanting for her company, it had always kept him in line even when she cracked the whip at him, too. She taught him much. They both did, lessons he used daily, would carry forward into the future, and now, without them to guide him... how to... fathom it?

He always knew them poised and proud, wolves befitting their mettle, with equal measures of darkly humored quips and wild power that he had admired them so unconditionally from his earliest, most clear memories. They had been different, two balancing forces, and yet he always knew together they were absolute--nothing else like it. They were always there, the world from which he had sprung from and been nurtured by.. and now, circumstance saw to it that maybe, that was all.

Their first son's entirely body quivered, and it escalated quickly to a quake now that his legs no longer had to stand up beneath him. Mutely he heard Hydra plead for their mother's life, and oh how he wanted it too, hence the fear and echoing her sentiments, though he couldn't say so. Could they help? Was it their place to? Matters between those two were final--to the boy in him, acts on par with whatever heavenly gods oversaw this lifetime. As he looked to his father, then his mother, his gut twisted and all of him shook, alive with grief, confusion, and downright terror for what was meant to come after this. What else? What could be worse? What could be done, and was there anything left? He didn't know what to do besides ache.