Hoshor Plains run rabbit run

Cypress went utterly limp in the bear's jaws as he watched his brothers do as he'd hoped and run away. For a minute, to be perfectly honest, he considered that dying here and now wouldn't be such a bad thing. Life was a gift, and he and Rannoch were particularly lucky to have it -- that's what Eshe had always said. That didn't mean it was easy for the eidolon to keep maintaining, though. Sometimes it felt like being not only a brother but a packmate -- especially as the pack's gamma -- was a whole lot of heavy. Maybe Charon was right and they'd jumped into leadership too soon. Maybe it was just anxiety. Whatever it was, Cy felt like he had to constantly be on the defensive. He had to earn his place in the pack, and sometimes that felt like he had to constantly carve out a place for himself in Rannoch and Rian's hearts in case it filled up with the greatness of others.

Mostly, he missed the days when it was just the three of them.

The bear dropped him with a dusty thud and he lay where he'd fallen, not moving even when the grizzly poked, prodded, and pushed at him. It was stupid, but in his youth Cypress had always possessed a flair for the dramatic, and he tried now through a muzzy miasma to figure out what his last words might have been. He thought maybe he'd said he loved his brother, but when he looked back everything was so loud and confusing. He couldn't be sure, so he closed his eyes and mouthed the words just in case: I love you, Rannoch, Rian, mama, and paw -- and I'm sorry, darlin', but I ended up loving you after all."

Then he waited.

He didn't worry about whether Death would be gentle or violent when it took him. He knew that pain was inevitable, but he firmly believed that there was always an "other side" to darkness and grief. Maybe Alya had taught him that. He had met her only a few times, but her impression upon him had been profound.

When, long moments later, the bear snuffled and shambled away, he was almost disappointed. That, he knew, had been the perfect death -- a sacrifice for his brothers and their pack -- and it had passed him by. Keeping these thoughts to himself, he picked himself and made himself hurry after the thick trail of wolfscent, knowing that his adrenaline would soon fade, leaving him cold.