Redhawk Caldera Vessel

Everything went dark. So impossibly dark, that he could not hear, see or feel a thing. Even the sensation of falling left him the moment the chasm had closed up around them, and the shrill squeal of his mother's voice was cut off. While he had some level of awareness, he could not tell where one part of him began, and another ended. He was left alone with little other than his own consciousness, until a voice finally appeared in his mind. 

"I didn't expect that."

He didn't really know how to reply, and when he tried to shrug, or fumble for words, he found it impossible. It was like wrestling inside a cocoon. He felt a light pulse of pressure, before it released, and suddenly, there was more sound; a light ringing that made him aware that more existed than just the darkness. 

"I'm sorry, what-?" 

His voice sounded the way it should, but...A bit more gritty, he thought. 

"I didn't expect for you to be the one delivered to me," Came the voice again. 

He could see nothing in the darkness and as though it was reading his thoughts, light spilled in- not from any source in particular, but soft, like moonlight. There was a figure, a tall wolf that looked almost impossibly perfect. He couldn't tell what colour their fur was, or what colour their eyes were, as if anything visible was made of light in its purest form. 

He was silent for a moment, struggling to figure out what was going on- and what this wolf was referring to. It seemed to understand, and in an instant, he watched it all play out before him again. 

He saw Niamh reach for Ponyboy and he took a step forward- only to see himself lunge out of the darkness, and bowl her over, into the crack in the earth, which blinked out as it shut. He remembered now. 

"Ponyboy- he's-"

"It's a ridiculous name." The wolf informed him. He couldn't read their expression, but he thought he heard light amusement on their androgynous voice. "But he is fine."

"What did you mean, 'delivered to you'?" He asked. 

"Here. Well, not here; I stopped you before you fell through." They admitted. They began to circle him, taking stock of him in his form, which felt more like a wolf again. "She was due to pass through into...Well, you do not have a correct name for it, but it is- where she is meant to go." The figure's tone dipped low. He felt as if he understood what was being implied. 

Essentially, his mother had finally been sucked down into the depths of-

"It's not quite 'Hell' but it's not 'Heaven,' either. And yes."

Before he could even think it, the question was answered. His mind was easily read. He felt himself anger when he realized not only where his mother had gone, but what she had been trying to do- and he struggled with the realization. 

"But why?"

"She wanted to make a deal. Send down one of her bloodline, and she could get more time to drift." The wolf sounded irritated, as though offended by his mother's bargaining. "We are not above making bargains, of course. We make them all the time. Your kind- and many others- make sacrifices all the time...Those aren't deals, per say, as we don't agree to every demand made for the price of innocent blood but they get sent to us, regardless and then is it my job, as True Death," The figure's outline flared "To send them in the right direction."

He studied the figure, who regarded him with the same impartial look he'd had since the light had come back in. 

He wasn't sure what question to ask next. 

"You were unexpected. Not the sacrifice that was offered, but one you made on your own, for the sake of your child." Did the creature look amused? It was impossible to tell. The wolf swept toward him, as gracefully as a swan on the water. "You will receive what Niamh asked for; but it will not be long." Their muzzle hovered above his forehead, and breathed warmth into him. "You will walk with me again soon."

***

He looked down at his feet when the ground appeared below him, and in the silvering light of the moon, he realized that he had returned to the earth, not far from where he had fallen in. A patch of ice beneath him caught his attention, and his eyes widened to see that he was not only semi-transparent, but aged. It made his heart ache to see how he would have looked had he lived to the same age as his father. He felt a tugging sensation in his chest; a small flare of pride that he had ended up becoming more like Colt. 

While he did not feel weak, he felt the wind slip through him, and wondered if it might carry him away soon. True Death's voice whispered in his ears, and he knew that he would not have much time left. In the patch of ice, he saw the moon, and understood its meaning; once it rose to its zenith, his time would be up. 

He heard a voice, and turned, realizing that both of his boys were finally reunited; Ponyboy scratched away at the earth, and Killdeer looked stunned. Appropriately so.

"He already knows that one, Varmint," He said, smiling. "So if you wanna teach your brother some foul language...You're gonna have to come up with something more inventive than that."

He didn't have much time left- but he was absolutely going to be himself in that time, and use humour to try and wade through whatever this heavy feeling was.