Blackfoot Forest and dawn comes

@Star Eater for mention

no, he rasps.

you don’t— he coughs violently. blood curdling in his throat, poisoning his white maw and cheeks and teeth. his head lolls, but he forces his gaze—his single, desperate golden eye—up toward her. still, squirming, lashing, trying to be free of the constraints which hold him. which bid his death. that call for his exile; the bastard he cannot reach, holding him by the scruff as if he were a disobedient pup.

you don’t know what i’ve done for my family, there is anguish and fury in voice. what i’ve sacrificed—what i’ve endured—

the pain.

the pride.

the jury.

the justice.

his words are slurred, poisoned by his own fate. if i am poison, then you are a coward. you... and morwenna... his head slumps. i stayed. i avenged my family. i...

it is only now he realizes. realizes that he remembers. remembers it all. memories, come crashing in, wheeling in his mind like a flood breaching it's gates. held back. pushing forth. he chokes, on his own divinity, his blood dribbling. the ichor of a martyr to stain the snow.

there is a raging cry when her claws split his face. stealing from him his dignity, his pride; gone with his eye and the rush of blood from his new, emptied socket. he spits one last defiant breath through bloodied teeth. he is a mangled beast. clawing, toiling, thrashing in any attempt to grab her. but her hound will not allow it. oh, how he loathes her.

how he fucking hates her pretentious guts. she had poisoned morwenna. turned her against him, her only brother! her kin, her blood! the blood they shared was that of fire and it raged eternally, and it was the war between kin that would be her undoing. he had vowed he would haunt her, and it is with his blood that tampers his fur now and spills upon gjalla that it is true. it will be.

a furious, rotten, hiss: the seven may laugh at me, but they will never weep for you.