Redtail Rise the man of the crowd

It was impossible not to hear the rumours circulating even when spending so little time in the pack's territory. A murder, a white wolf with yellow eyes. It should have stoked the flames of fury and vengeance in Aventus, but instead it filled him with a dread so deep he felt he was drowning in it.

He had never in his life been a coward, but he knew that Nyra was not a wolf. She was a banshee, some accursed being with the ability to flee from utterly impossible odds, again and again and again, and by now he had realized that chasing her was futile. His tongue would never taste her lifeblood, no matter if he chased her to the very ends of the earth, no matter how justified his hunt, no matter how long he ran, how hurt she was or how hale he was. She would slip through his fingers each time and would kill those he loved along the way.

Still, Aventus attended the meeting. The call left no room for disobedience. He looked at the faces around and was filled with a surprising amount of sorrow despite hardly knowing most of them. He paused briefly on each of his nieces and hoped, achingly, that Avicus did not mean to involve them in this, but knowing otherwise. They were still so young. Fierce, but so young, and Nyra was not of this world.

How many wolves would die this time only for Nyra to slip away again?

How long had Nyra been lurking here?

Arielle, Atreus...

His silver eyes lingered longest on his remaining son, his decision made as soon as they met his patchwork coat, then lifted to Avicus to listen. Outwardly, he was expressionless, but already he was making plans.

Not a coward, but Ancelin was everything to him, and he could not follow in Merrick's footsteps as a father who brought his child to an unwinnable war.