Luneshale Pass your body laid out on these filthy floors

they had slaughtered him.

men, old and young, drawn together by their status—highborn, accustomed to making such decisions. met and exclaimed over firenze di rossi's atrocities, mourning the sons that never would come into their own. 

(forget the wife; she had made her own poor decision.)

so what if they hadn't been legitimate? they could have easily served as foot soldiers or eunuchs to some other family. the rossi prince would have never needed to look them in the eye again. all could have been mended, resolved.

the order came down: death by a thousand snaps of jaw. they slaughtered him, as he had slaughtered those dearest to him.

the news came to fiamma through a woman who had known her family well. together, they laughed and feasted for days, toasting what semblance of justice had been handed down by the council. 

it did not bring her mother or brothers back—nothing could, naturally—but knowing her 'father' had suffered the same fate he'd inflicted was comfort and satisfaction enough. 

now. . .to find the bastard who'd caused this all in the first place.

---

it was a curious place, this desert pass; she hadn't been here long, but long enough to know that. the moon was still fairly full enough to light her path through the night, but further aid came in the form of crystals littered everywhere, winking, glittering like the innumerable stars in the sky. 

lunar glow and mineral shimmer alike; her pelt was ablaze in silver hues, eyes glacier-cool in the tapered face.

a bat or two had come swooping down, seeking nectar from the cactus flowers. she couldn't help but imagine them as her name-giver's presence from beyond the grave—meant to be menacing, but ultimately pesky and without consequence.

he could not—could never—hurt her now.

but the thought of firenze taking chiropteran form brought a giddy grin to her wide mouth and a laugh that burst free, echoing off the rocks. fiamma made no pretense at stealth, though various scents at the mouth of the canyon (some stronger than others) had given her slight pause.

still, wolves eager enough to claim and hold a territory like this would have sentries out at night. that was the way of things. having met no one of the sort, she forged ahead, licking dry chops and wondering where the nearest source of water was.

surely the desert gods would smile on her eventually.

i have no idea what's going down with the cartel after that fight thread; i'm game to have her get fucked up/captured/whatever!