Porcupine Ridge they call holidays an option for a reason,

she did not like the way vercingetorix walked towards her. it was calculated; a basilisk’s prowl — and she knew better than to trust his advancement as anything other than a threat.

all the same she stayed her ground. if this was to be her final stand, so be it — she had a wicked run, and if she was just lucky enough, perhaps she could take one last dragedan out with her before the earth crumbled in on itself.

long ago caiaphas had grown immune to insults, particularly when issued from the tongue of a male. vercingetorix’s words did little to sway her, for she suspected he was simply doing what he had always done — verbally searching for some tender spot in which to rile her up enough she would commit some godawful mistake. watching him approach, caiaphas was reminded of vlad and how once, they had endured a stand-off too. truthfully, caiaphas had not expected to survive.. yet here she was, still breathing — while vlad had fucked off to some distant reach (likely hell).


vercingetorix shared not a single positive trait of vlad’s, save he too had left her to die in the end.

men, right? caiaphas had only wished she had trusted her gut that many moons ago, and told illidan he was wrong to trust the snake disguised as a friend.

and did you get what you deserve? caiaphas returned in an even tone, unashamed of her life’s course. she thought vercingetorix deserved far worse than the blemish she had bestowed upon him. his pack had caused rusalka tremendous grief  — and had even killed one of her own. for that, she believed vercingetorix deserved a life of endless torment, with no reprieve.

if only she knew he had done far worse. if only she knew he had turned on her son, the only wolf willing to vouch for him.. then she might not have received this traitor so coolly; then she might have pointed out he was natrona not to one, but two packs that dared entrust him.

despite all her iniquities, caiaphas would die proud and unashamed. many had been crushed by her wheel; some deserving, and some not — but the wheel had never discriminated, for that wheel was driven by one sole focus; crazy, unhinged, batshit-insane love.

she would never regret the harm she had inflicted in the name of love. easthollow had hurt her family, drageda had hurt her family — in the end, they all would pay (and they all had in some small measure). easthollow knew now the sting of an undeserving child’s death.. and drageda had tumbled into a sea of nonexistence. that was caiaphas’ vow; to end those that would see fit to end her own. at least as long as caiaphas drew breath, the enemies of her children would always walk with a red target on their back.

she did not answer his second query, for caiaphas thought it evident enough and indicated so with a shrug of her thin shoulders. vercingetorix had her pegged all wrong.. not that she would waste time explaining or justifying for the likes of him. caiaphas did not love to kill — she killed for love. were there any mother more steadfast in her worship of her children, caiaphas had never witnessed it; for even if she was displaced now, she had done it all in the name of blood — and would keep on her scarlet path until death, or reckoning... whichever came first.