Dragoncrest Cliffs maybe spit some blood at the camera, just stay alive

heda is dead.

heda is dead.

heda is dead.

the words in the young fleimkepa's summons do not make sense to blodreina. the words strung together — impossible words — that should have never been put together in a single sentence are instantly rejected by the stubborn and headstrong gona.

no.

she refuses to believe them, thinking that is some sick joke that blixen is playing. because...because it had to be. it had to be a joke or a misunderstanding. heda couldn't be dead. she just...she couldn't be. the spirits of the commanders wouldn't let that happen. would they? surely not.

despite her will to reject the words as truth there is an undeniable urgency to blodreina's steps, heavy with rushed purpose. she is not the first to arrive on the scene and she moves to stand with the others, bulldozing her way forward with an icy pain in her heart and a hollow feeling to her lungs. what do you mean heda is dead? she demands even her gaze searching wildly for heda.

and then shifting through the scent of the others she picks out antumbra's, her savage gaze following it to the edge of the cliffs. blodreina knows the rest. the truth settles now, undeniable, and though blodreina hates showing weakness in front of anyone a pained sob tears itself from her chest against her will. and her heart shatters again, for a second time, since kendra's death. she loved antumbra. as a mentor, as the only wolf she'd looked to as family since her siblings abandoned her and her parents left to form sangeda.

even though she feels like she's tearing at the seams blodreina sobers up with a deep and uneven breath, keeping the torrent of emotions she desperately wants to let out at bay. this was no time to lose control. or to mourn. their commander was dead and there were no fos goufa's currently in drageda to take her place.