Bramblepoint The Battle of Evermore

Antares was tired. It was a culmination of everything, one that finally came crashing down on him so viciously as this. When he reached some sense of cover in the trees of Bramblepoint, guided vaguely by the first wolf to have found him, he had nothing left.

He slept for a time once there, thankfully dreamless, tucked away as best as he was able to be--and as long as he didn't have to see the landslides anymore, he tried to drift off to elsewhere instead. Even when he did stir again, he was never around for long, or to any whole capacity to any unfortunate soul who had to witness him. Maybe he could be coaxed into a few small bites of something to eat, or any real tending, and a drink was usually his most rewarding venture. Antares just.. couldn’t. Shell-shocked, withdrawn, everything felt like a bruise, and his life was devastated in this great loss. He didn't keep track of the hours or the days they made, or anything really; didn't want to.

Yet, pulverized as he was left to feel as the dust had since begun to settle, he lived. He kept waking up, and the nightmares of this loss remained with him, haunting every breath of his, how his ribs hurt, how he thought of what had once been their mountainside rendezvous--all a reminder to what was gone now, while he was not. The strange songs in the distance, if he had really heard them, seemed to drive this point home--though he couldn't decipher their full meaning through his own fog. He thought he felt it, at least.

Now, though, sitting deep in a small thicket he had found, he was hovering on the line between regrettably awake and dozing off. In his increasing awareness, he was starting to feel guilty about the glen he had not returned to since everything, but the thought remained half-formed--answered for by the grimace he felt take shape about it. None of it felt right to him. He tried to distract himself by chewing at his toes, but it was Bronco's howl from relatively near that truly got him out of it. There were a few reactions to sort through, Antares found. He listened carefully, mostly to be sure that he was not dreaming first, before he hefted himself up to his feet. Stifling the groan and shaky at first, he glanced around to see if anyone was immediately near--but the pull to find the Blackthorn that he owed so much swiftly outweighed the urge to explain himself.

His going was slow, but steady, and in time, Antares saw motion making its way through the woods towards him. His heart leapt, relieved--finally, though he doubted his strength to show it, now of all times, too. Still, every step was one more and all he wanted was a familiar face.

a few very vague mentions of folks being sorta aroundish after ibis lead him back here, lol, holler if not okay though!