Dragoncrest Cliffs Tempest

When the three family members converged their brains buffered, processing the scene and the absence of the wounded boys. Stingray was the first to reboot. He grasped the situation – the implication that death was close and that his brother could not run from it alone -- and began to shout for his red-tailed sibling.

The desperate calls seemed to jumpstart his mother who, at first, connected back with Njord. She begged a question of her husband. Where was their son?

Njord’s bloodshot eyes swam in their sockets as his gaze darted around. Slack-jawed and listless. His brain felt slow. Mired by the great tragedy that flooded Sapphique. He thought of Val’s primitive battle cry. The heartsick roar of Erzulie’s grief. Sobo’s half-skull. And blood. And ocean. And Merlin. And seawater. And death.

WHERE’S MY SON???

The cry could have broken glass. Meerkat unraveled into a frenzied alarm. The sheer panic and terror of his wife and son were the only reason Njord was able to step up at that moment. Even his composure was held perilously together by the most meager of strings.

She started to leave the scene, following Swordfish’s trail in a manic state.

“Meerkat. Meerkat,” Njord came up besides her. He would have grabbed her shoulders if he could. “We’ll find him,” the father’s deep voice promised in an attempt to level his wife. “But we ‘av tae stay ta’gether. We cannae lose sight of one another.”

Njord looked over to Stingray. He was not willing to lose this boy too. “We must keep close, do ye ken?” Njord did not know if his words would land but in the next moment, his eyes looked towards the Southbound pawprints smeared in the dirt, ready to follow.