Silvertip Mountain sometimes it makes me wonder why i even bring the thunder

Everything irked him. Nothing would satisfy him until he had Dragomir back within his embrace again. With all his faults, all his fuck-ups, it was more than likely his son would shirk his love -- but goddamn it, he had to give it. He had no choice but to give it. It spilled from him with every breath, every panting, desperate sob up the mountain.

Verx reached the place where the scents had grown strongest, a glittering cave carved into the mountainside. Dragomir? he called out, more a question than anything else. His stomach twisted. There was blood here, various tufts of hair. Dark hair. He sniffed at one of these tufts and recoiled; his son's scent stung his nostrils, sudden and poignant. There were smears, leading. . .every which way. . .

Fuck.

Dragomir! he called out, voice echoing around the cavern. His two-toned eyes darted to and fro, searching, pleading -- god, where was he?! He put his nose low, like a huge, hulking black bloodhound, drawing in deep breaths. Breaths that led him outside once more, to the edge. To the edge, and down --

Where, down down down the slope, he saw something small and something quite broken, lying still.

There was no hesitation. Vercingetorix scrabbled down the slope, all breath stolen entirely now. His pulse pounded like the beating of war drums; his chest was tight, burning, screaming. Please god no no fuck please no please no no no no please no --

But even his pleas couldn't change the past, and as he came to a halt beside the mangled, bloodied body of his son, he let loose the roaring scream of a man whose heart had been ripped from his chest: still beating, but no longer whole.

The rain fell.

permission given to find @Dragomir unconscious