The Sunspire For in his eye were stars that burned

Last whumping @Cassiopeia  and @Olive feel free to come in after Cassiopeia has done the deed and find them. I'll probably tag you again when it's okay.

He kept good on his plan to head to the mountains, wandering around the sunspire and seeing areas he hadn't ventured to before. He had thought that exploring would perhaps bring his spirits up but it hadn't, it had only distracted him for the moment being.

As he was finally heading off to try and locate where teaghlaigh last lived, he found himself wandering past a pack's borders. He ignored the scents up until his nose worked out something achingly familiar. He sniffed again and closed his eyes, unsure whether to be annoyed or happy that he found her again. "Olive...it's like no matter what, we always get pulled together." he murmured outloud and stepped away. He should turn around and leave her be, her new children were probably born, she had a new good life here, he shouldn't bother her. Yet....he felt he needed to speak to her one last time, to leave on a good note if he ever could. So he sent up a howl for his ex wife, the one still holding his heart.

liar.

the howl had her stiffen, her whole body growing rigid with tension. last time she'd seen him, he'd told her he wanted nothing to do with her, with Olive, with their shattered family. he'd offered fantastical stories about where he'd been, made sure the blame for what they'd all become was as far removed from his conscious as possible, and abandoned their family for some new bitch he'd been so proud to brag of. 

traitor.

she was already moving towards the sound, wobbling somewhere in between fury and a dark, silent emotion she could put no name to. attention was honed on the sound, the dim figure a hundred yards ahead. he'd left her bleeding in the dirt last she'd seen him, was the cause of one of the scars lining her throat after she'd erupted in youthful anger at the man that had fled her family, only to return with excuses and honeyed words. fifty yards, now, and she was settling more fully into the emotion that guided her like an arrow, that took her fury and honed it. 

coward.

her maw opened when she came within range, with the intent of delivering some warning. and yet it did not come, and instead her maw opened wider, and she dove for his face, fangs flashing and hackles rigid upon her spine, where she supposed they'd been bristling some time already. he'd decided, he'd done what he had, and he did not deserve, could not, come back. he had made it clear where his love and loyalties lay, and it was not with them, not with his daughter and not with his mate. 

and so she moved with all the hate and fury that the Woods had instilled in her, the kind that had been growing and budding under her pelt since she'd left the carrion-stained cave. it drove her and did so freely, and so freely did she give herself up to its direction, its freedom, and the pure satisfaction of charging at her sire's face with every intent of shredding it.

Olive was not the one to approach, instead it was a black shadow with her mother's eyes bristling and raging toward him before he could speak. Time seemed to slow down as he saw the green eyes first and then fangs glistening with spit, mouth parted open in a deathly snarl. A small black shape climbing over him, tugging his ears, laughing, "Cassi, easy with those i need them" his voice rumbled the memory flashed before he could stop it and once it did he ducked his head, her fangs tearing apart the ears she once played with.

Blood flowed and in his weakened and tired state he fell to the ground with ease. Even still he struggled to get back up, scampering sideways away from his daughter, the girl he had spoken vile words to, disowned, and wounded. The one he had left bleeding. "Do whatever you want. I'm not leaving again. I'm not leaving. Im tired of it." he spat at her ad the blood cascaded into his eyes. He tried to blink it away, to face the fiercesome woman his young Cassi had become. Regret and guilt resurged and suddenly he felt angry. Angry at himself for abandoning the family who had needed him so badly. Even if Olive hadn't loved him he still had a daughter who had needed her father. His face fell and he hung his head "I won't fight you. I won't fight what I deserve" he murmured.

dark glee bubbled up in the hollow space in her chest, at the ease at which blood was shed, her father felled. she paced back, forward again, wraith personified. it was rage that had been honed over months, over silence and faded memories, surging back to become a sharpened instrument that edged her on. "you always do," and the words held no fury, no bitting wrath, merely some deadpan truth that surprised even herself. 

he did not get to come back. did not get to chose them again, did not get to when things were getting so good.  words fell on slicked back ears, and she finished only,  "you decided." and again she struck, fangs seeking to tear and rend, to drive away, to make him shut up. and so she struck, again and again, while some rational part of her mind struggled to be heard against the white noise of her cold fury.

Grief stabbed him in the chest at the brutal way she spoke, a cold truth that struck him even though he had made the decision. His ears flattened back against his head and his eyes flashed with one last blazr of defiance. Once more he was the monster and Olive was the victim but....he could admit now that what he did was horrible. When Olive had hurt him and Cassiopeia was innocent, he hd abandoned them both. He had caused his daughter pain only to shun her away upon their first reunion in years. Yes...he was truly a monster. 

As she struck for him again he stumbled backward clumsily in his exhaustion and emotional turmoil, her fangs slicing from his cheek to his throat in savage rips. He gasped as blood poured from the wounds in thick, large drops of crimson. He stumbled backward again and groaned, looking up at Cassiopeia. "Don't finish it. Let me bleed out. You won't ever get over the guilt" he wheezed, legs quaking as he struggled to remain standing. "I'm sorry. It was Olive who caused me pain but you still needed me. You needed me and I left and I'm sorry. Let me die here. It's okay" he spoke with a strained voice, admitting his fault much too late. When he spoke the last words he stood silent, refusing to look at her. 

You can have Cassi hit him once more or be done. He'll die either way, the throat wound is too deep. @Olive after Cassiopeia's next post you can come in.

brutal. 
she was, was she not? creature crafted of ire and shadow, striking again and again with ruthless precision until positions reversed, and her father lay in the dirt. blood pooled, and he spoke. the words twisted, registered someplace, and yet she did not stop, stalking near until her fangs drifted poised over his throat, gaze revealing the startling and sudden depth of her apathy. hot breath mixed with blood as she fell still, gaze boring into his, at once burning and empty. 

could she kill him? she was very much capable, logically, of driving her fangs downward and tearing once more, pulling up and to the left and severing her father's hold on life. the burning intent of her cold fury too would allow her to finish quickly what she found herself standing on the precipice of, allow the emotion to carry her through. she summarized then that she could, and at the moment above him, she felt some semblance of righteousness, of peace. 

his last words swirled in the pit of apathy that yawned at the edges of her mind, and finally, she withdrew, forcing the cold down and away, to lurk beneath her skin and burn in her bones. she would wonder, not at what she'd done, but what would have happened, should she have killed him swiftly. "then die." she turned then, considering waiting, watching, and finding that without the cold of her anger, so much like the burn of that river so long ago, she felt merely hollow. 

and so she left him there, forcibly pulling at the parts of her mind that offer rationality and logic as she melted back into the mountainside,

He wobbled once....twice...and then fell onto his side to the ground upon her final words to him. His breath wheezed from his lungs, watery and shallow as he watched her walk away from him. He coughed and shivered, eyes closing as he hung onto the memories. Aries and Cassiopeia still young, still at Moonspear, still his to kiss and hold at night in their den. Memories of Cassiopeia calling him daddy, memories of Aries's cold silence. He thought of Onyx and hoped she would forget him and live on, never to come across Lonzo ever again. Lastly his thoughts focused on one thing, the first time he had ever seen @Olive. His first word to her repeated itself "Anthousai..Anthousai I'm so sorry." he murmured softly while he faded slowly, blood dripping and pooling his life onto the soil. 

You can post now Rachel!

baby’s first murder scene!
but last o&d thread

At nearly a month old, Olive’s batch of babies were growing and becoming far more playful. They were growing into their limbs and forming little personalities; their eyes were bright with curiosity and their mouths were full of words. She loved to play with them, now that she had rebounded from the trauma of birth and reclaimed her slight and svelte figure, and the mother spent their long, summer afternoons tumbling with them in the long grasses and their late evenings telling stories and nestling into one another. Olive had never experiences something so beautiful, wholesome and all-consuming as this before!

The small family’s mid-day cavorting was cut short by a familiar call at the border. This had been a first — the quiet woman did not usually have visitors — but the tonality of the call was certainly not a first. How many times had Dakarai been on the other end of a border, calling for her attentions and her affections? It was either that, or she found him wounded and wishing to employ a nurse — there was no in between. At least, this time, he was at their border and not the victim of another senseless shedding of blood! At once, maybe his pain would have pleased her — but time and the sweet love of her children had dulled the pain he once caused. Even his assault on Cassiopeia went, for the most part, unspoken and forgotten; for her, at least.

Not finding a reason to not answer his call, the shakti mother steered her tribe of three towards the spire’s northernmost border. Oh, how wrong she had been!

It did not take the shrouded empath long to realize that this was no ordinary border call. Whatever transpired here had gone horribly awry — and some creature lay slain just beyond the territory’s scentguard. A small part of her immediately knew this was Dakarai and her heart was set aflutter; not for the man that lay dying, but for the three pups who followed her every movement. They were too far from the densite to turn back, and her better judgment told her not to call for Seabreeze or Liffey or a number of other women who could act as sitter. Olive tucked @Séamus, @Eleuthera and @Oaxaca within a blooming berry bush, hoping the tasty morsels would distract them. This was too much for them to see — almost too much for anyone to see. 

Olive strode cooly to the shadow of a man; a pool of spilled ink, growing ever larger. The scent of blood intermingled with that of Cassiopeia, and the woman immediately known what transgressions wrought Dakarai this fate. Though Olive could not say she didn’t agree with her daughter execution, she did not delight in it. He had been in quite a state for quite a while, after shacking up with that onyx-bitch and turning aggression upon his only daughter, and somehow knew that this might not be the most terrible of tragedies — albeit a very sad one, for this was a man that the woman had once loved and devoted her very soul to.

“again, darling?” she said with a most macabre humor. But it was okay, because he wouldn’t die here, would he?  Dakarai never died. This couldn’t be it, though the blood upon the earth traces out a fate that hinted otherwise. It just couldn't be.

In the moments that passed his blood spread further and his mind grew weaker, his life flashing and wracking his mind and body with emotions that hurt worse than his wounds. Just as he began to crave the finality of death the sound of footsteps made him open his eyes and above him stood Olive. It was as if she was summoned by his murmurings. She spoke, a question of dark humor and he winced. His nose twitched and he drew in a short breath, enough to smell the young scents of pups. He chuckled and sighed feeling satisfied that she had something to live for, a life besides the pain he caused. "Again Olive. Again and for the last time." he stated, opening dull blue eyes to look up at her. Yes...he wanted her to be the last thing he saw before he passed on.

For a moment everything went blank but he sucked in another loud breath and focused  "I don't blame Cassiopeia but myself instead. I caused this. I should have-" he paused and shivered, body convulsing with the first sign of death. "i should have stayed. If not for us then for her. I loved you. I still...I still love you. Onyx she... I loved her too but she abandoned me like I did you. I made so many mistakes...I was an awful mate and a worse father" after he finished he lay there, gasping for more breath, not ready to go but also knowing and accepting this was his last amount of time left on this earth.

It was a truly disturbing scene, to see a man dying in such a violent and painful manner, but this was not the first time she had seen her husband in such a state. No, this very scene had been repeating many times before. First when he had arrived on Teaghlaigh’s doorstep, marred with the after-effects of the Woods’ goodbye present. Then there had been the hunt-gone-awry, where he had been clobbered by the king elk. Then there was the fateful encounter with the hellhounds, who had branded her husband a traitor — she had found him starving near Moonspear, and dying after she had left their uneasy company. As a nurse, Olive was used to this.

But as a once-wife, she could never become used to this. To see Dakarai in such pain — she felt it very much in her own heart, her own flesh, so intertwined were their souls. Because of this, Olive knew this time were different.  Her knight was dying, and they both knew it. Though her heart thudded in her chest, no panic arose. Olive knew she would, finally, be fine — in fact, she would be free. Dakarai too would be free; free of a life that was so very cruel to him, so very often. As weird as it sounded, they both deserved this — and it was not a bad thing. 

Dakarai, through shuddering and pained breaths, uttered his apologies and issued his last goodbyes. Olive wanted to disagree with him, but knew he was speaking the truth, but she would set him at ease anyways. Who was she not to soothe a man with lies that were of no consequence now? Yes, he was an awful father and yes, he made horrible choices (so did she, but whatever) — but Dakarai’s soul was good, and that’s what he would soon be. A soul, and nothing more, without the world to weigh him down.

With a glance over her shoulder to ensure a wayward puppy had not stumbled onto the scene, Olive snaked herself alongside Dakarai, incidentally smearing her pale pelage with his thick, crimson blood. She did not care. “No, no, shhh now,” she cooed, a sob rising unbidden in the pit her throat. “You did nothing wrong.” The fae inched closer. “The past is the past.” She moved her mouth close to his last remaining ear and whispered unto him “You and I are infinite. “

Olive wondered what more she could do for him. Star stories and healing were not made for this moment. Perhaps seeing how life perpetuated in the forms of her perfect little babies would ease him into a peaceful death; or, as peaceful as his injuries would allow. Whether the certain scars to their fragile little psyches were worth providing such comfort to a dying man, she was sure — the lessons of life and death were invaluable to them, really, but Olive would not leave Dakarai’s side unless it were at his behest (or the immediate need of her children).

After blood had managed to well itself up in his throat to his mouth and be hacked up into the snow, he finally managed to get some good breaths again. His eyes never left the beautifil pale fur of his once mate. Once mate....yes They were no longer together but had he ever stopped loving her? No. Even when the love became tainted by pain and anger and guilt, he still loved her with his very soul. He knew this to be true as he moved his gaze higher and met her green eyes, so beautiful and the same as when they'd first met except now they were filled with grief. Another wave of guilt washed over him that their last meeting would be one to bring her grief and pain. 

As she came next to him he moved his head in agonizing slowness to press his nose to her chest, breath in her scent. He found it mixed with the smell of puppy, milk and baby fluff that created a heady and relaxing aroma. Her last words were all he managed to snag as he zoned back in and he gave a low rumbling groan of affection, unable to help it. The sound brought another wave of choking and sputtering and for a moment he lay still, not breathing. Then he sucked in another shallow breath, feeling like he was already floating away toward the sky. "Live on till you're old Love. Raise your babies to be good and pure like you. Live a good life please...one that's good and free of any pain. And then..." his body convulsed again and his eyes closed. "And then when you're ready, join me in the stars" he murmured and gave her chest a weak lick, slipping away before his tongue could even slide back into his maw.

Whether it was the final activities of his brain or something spiritual, he stood above Olive looking down at her. His body was young again, free of scarring and strong. He smiled and leaned down, kissing the top of her head. "I'll wait for you Anthousai" he rumbled softly and then with a single thought he rose up to the heavens and was gone.

crying. Thank you both for this! Tagging all that are close to or related to him. @Onyx Saefyn @Aries

Maybe we can say it's open to anyone now?

Her dark knight was fading fast, and she quickly understood that every single moment with him was more precious than gold. Though she could not — and would not — verbalize it, the druid still loved him too. She always would, in a way that was almost perverse. She loved to be hurt by him; it kept him close. Now, he was so, so far away.

A whine, as silent as a whisper on the wind, rose in her throat as he uttered what was certainly his last words — and they were of her. What did she do to deserve such devotion from a man, after all the world had thrown at them to keep them parted? All too soon, his soul began to separate from his body and Olive watched on as the life slipped away from her husband. Then, he was gone. 

It had finally happened.

Without the ease of a dying man to consider anymore, the woman let out a wail that was part anguish and part sorrow, and part an inability to verbalize her complex emotions at that moment. Almost without thinking, the tiny woman threw her chin back and loosed a howl of grief, begging that someone, anyone, might help her navigate this situation — and she sincerely hoped that this someone might be her Alpha, @Rannoch. The presence of her innocent babes and the loss of the only man she had ever loved were simply too much to bear.

instead it was her son that found her.  he bumbled out from behind the bush, abandoning his sibing(s) at his mother's wail.  he pushed past what could have once been his father's body and nestled into his momma's fur, empathetically hoping he could fix whatever ailed her.  he was still too young to understand.

Olive’s easygoing thirdborn alerted at the unmistakable call of his mother — but in Oaxaca’s world, Séamus and Eleuthera very much called the shots, so he didn’t start moving until his brother did. He arrived on the scene only moments thereafter, nuzzling against his mother and brother with a characteristically melodic hum, pressing his tiny paws against her larger one rhythmically. Whatever was wrong, it was going to be all right — the world was still good and the sun would still rise, and they still had each other. They always would.

Yes, if Oaxaca was guilty of one thing, it would be his eternal optimism.

"Olive," Rannoch breathed as he loped onto the scene of the crime; the smell of blood overwhelmed him and the fur along his backbone spiked because of his uneasiness. By the time that he reached the Matron's side, Rannoch had made some assumptions about what he was about to discover.  From his vantage point, Rannoch could see the broken body that she cradled— the presumed origin of her grief. 

The world spun beneath his paws suddenly, and he lurched a step sideways as an abundance of impertinent thoughts overcame him— this was all so wrong, and it was too late to evade the consequences that would follow. Somebody had been killed on Sunspire's borders. 

"What happened?" he managed, his voice strong. 

Movement from Olive's side caught Rannoch's awareness, and suddenly, he realized that her children were with her; his priorities changed within a heartbeat. Without a second thought, Rannoch tipped his head back and requested @Seabreeze's presence with an inflection of urgency. She would take care of them, he knew. 

He turned to Olive then, his voice wavering as he said, "They don't need to be here for this."

She had already been on her way, but the children were taking their toll on her.  Thus far her calcium deficiency had been entirely missed by both herself and Olive, and without a diagnosis she did not know the danger she was in by exerting herself.  Her pace quickened at the second call, this time from her alpha, and she arrived on scene windswept and ragged, panting heavily.

The scent of blood was not lost upon her but it took a moment to register, and as she looked between her grief-stricken sister, the body, and the children, she wordlessly looked towards Rannoch and scooped up one of the boys, pointedly making sure the other would follow.

The moment that Olive had with Dakarai’s body were few — but that is how she wanted it to be. It was strange — but Olive had no real wish to be close to the dead thing that was once her husband. The body she cradled was old and broken, and bore the scars of a world that was much too cruel for him. The druid knew him as he once was, as he would always be, on a soul level; and she felt it now, though his soul was no longer constrained by his body. In a way, she was jealous of his newfound freedom — Dakarai was now closer to the gods than she had ever been in her entire life. He was one with them.

Because she knew Dakarai’s eternal fate to be so grand [for in death the valiant were always rewarded], Olive allowed herself to fully feel the weight of this change — but when she felt the tiny noses of her puppies nestled and nudging into her, Olive found it easy to turn away. Without a big fuss, the tiny druid parted with the cadaver that looked so distinctly out of place upon Sunspire’s borders. This was a place of happiness and sunshine; it was in their name! What had he been doing here? she wondered earnestly, sitting up on her haunches and pulling both her sons close, looking over her should to glimpse at her lover’s crumpled form. What had he wanted? It was so interesting how bad fortune had followed him like flies, even bringing sadness upon his family in his most final of moments. 

It was only when Rannoch came upon them that Olive realized what a fright she looked and what a scene she was a part of — and she was an integral part, the only part that could even try for an explanation. She drew up a forelimb to wipe at the blood that stained her cheeks, perhaps just smearing it further. Then, almost ashamed, Olive leant down to lick at her children’s little bloodstained skulls.  “I know,”  she conceded.  She did not want to be thought of as a bad mother in the way that Dakarai had been a bad father. 

The alpha called for Seabreeze — good idea, though Olive — and in the presence of her sister, her resolve fell once more. As her three children [Eleuthera had wandered and joined the boys not long after] were removed from her side and into the care of her most beloved, the woman felt her voice and strength waver.   “Cassiopeia’s father…”   was the simplest way she could put it without saying something that might be implicating. Certainly, if this had been another wolf in her position, disturbing the peace as she was doing, Olive might have had a problem with it. Rannoch and Liffey had never been anything but kind and gracious leaders — what would prevent them from not continuing to be kind and gracious? Wasn’t this what family was all about? Biting her lip, the shrouded woman whispered 

  “He died.”   

Seabreeze had escorted the children away, and Olive gave her precise rejoinder; Rannoch further befuddled by her answer. With his eyes trained on the cadaver, he paused and attempted to make sense of the information that he was given. 

"But how?" Rannoch asked after a thoughtful recess. "And why?" He knew that he couldn't let assumptions get the better of him— she needed an opportunity to explain what happened. "What happened?" Rannoch pressed again.

Silence fell at Rannoch weighed the scene before him. The mother searched his face, trying to scry meaning from his stoicism, as her heartbeat quickly grew more and more rapid — the way her gut simmered, she wondered if she actually had done something wrong. something to feel bad about. Would Rannoch realize this before even she?

Quickly, the words came to her mind and she spoke them without hesitation.   “He was a bad man,” she confessed, not even sure of her own meaning or intention behind saying this — it was the truth, but it felt like a reluctant truth. Her thoughts were only for Cassiopeia, who had committed murder right upon their peaceful borders, and of her three babies who nestled in Seabreeze as easily as they did their own mother. The druid’s eyes became narrower, almost imperceptibly, as she knew exactly what was at stake.  The shrouded woman looked at Rannoch square in the eyes, demeanor already quite steely for having been so despondent just moments before.   “He mauled his daughter.” she further explained — not even with this did she venture even close to the area of untruthfulness.   “Sunspire is safer with him dead.” Still, this was undoubtedly true. 

  “So, I killed him.”

Oh, wait. 
That wasn’t true. 

Olive let that sink in for a moment; it wasn’t the truth, but it was the truth that she was living now. She was murderer, and worse — and murderer of those she loved. She, who had never even killed anything larger than a doe’s calf! But, this was the reality she must live. Cassiopeia could not be blamed for her actions, for she was young and abused. Olive must be the one to shoulder the blame, as was a mother’s duty, for it was at her hand that enchanted Dakarai and brought him back into her life over and over again.    “— but I didn’t want to.” the woman’s voice quivered as her pleading gaze dripped off of Rannoch’s.  “He… forced my hand.”       

when seabreeze was called terance was right along with her. he had not been close enough to smell just how strong the blood was, and so until his ocean was called he was unalert and unbothered. when she was called, of course, concern set in, and he rushed to the scene alongside her. and though he worried about what had happened, he (not a trained medic) had no idea his own lover was suffering. 

he arrived and-- holy shit, was he taken aback, though the only thing that showed his was a raise in his brow. he parted with seabreeze with a soft, reassuring nudge to the shoulder and joined rannoch-- a few steps back since, of course, his alpha deserved the front line. and as he stood he assessed the situation, which still hadn't settled much in his mind, he listened to olive's explanation with his ears angled forward. 

oh dear, what was he supposed to do with this? brows now furrowed in thought, terance did not respond to olive, leaving it to rannoch, who held far more authority than him. but he had his opinions-- terance went nowhere without his opinions and his loyalty, and i'm sure you can guess where he sided on the matter.

Olive's narrative was one which Rannoch found himself believing with gusto. He had no reason to doubt the Matron— especially since she had just picked the safety of her child and pack over her former lover. "Oh, Olive," he breathed compassionately; Rannoch could only imagine what she was going through at that moment. "Thank you for keeping our Sunspire safe," he said. "And thank you for making the sacrifice that you did." 

"You need to find Cassiopeia," he instructed then, feeling suddenly concerned for the young warrior; she had only just healed from her last venture. "Tend to her wounds. Call for Hyacinth if she's needed." The longer he had lingered at the scene, the more apparent Cassiopeia's scent had become. Her fragrance radiated from Dakarai's broken remains and strengthened Olive's retrospection. 

"We will take care of the body. Bring it off of our lands, and somewhere far from here." Rannoch turned to Terance then to see if he agreed. "Let the scavengers pick at him." It was what Dakarai deserved.

For some reason, Olive had expected Rannoch to immediately see through her series of untruths to glimpse at the wolf that laid underneath: a selfish one, who hoarded the truth, who worried for no others than her immediate family. Perhaps Arturo, and the rest of the council of Teaghlaigh, had been right in their previous condemnation of her and her kin. She acted in her own self-interest, as reluctant as she was to admit it, she sometimes acted at the risk of the pack who had taken her in and sheltered her.

Was Sunspire really at risk? No [especially now that Dakarai and his shit luck were no longer an unending issue], but as far as the druid was concerned, her family was. Where would Cassiopeia be if she were expunged from Sunspire’s ranks for doing nothing more than filling her karmic duty? That wouldn't happen, not if Olive could help it. 

Because of this, Olive could not be more appreciative of Rannoch’s next suggestion: to find her daughter and figure out exactly what happened and where they would go from here. They needed alibis, and Olive honestly wanted to hear the star-speckled girl’s explanation of this tragedy, and those things could only be discussed in person. Though Cass’s scent was pungent around the crime scene, the blood that spilled had not been hers. This was something a mother would know, but might be hard for those who had not carried the girl in her womb. As far as Rannoch and Terance knew, Cassiopeia was injured and in need of help. 

Olive’s heart ached at the mention of Dakarai’s body decomposing far from their borders, far from her. What an unfitting end, she thought, to a man who deserved much better. Dakarai was not without his faults, but he was not an evil man as her leadership currently believed. It was disrespectful to Dakarai’s memory, but that’s all it was — a memory. The saying was true: dead men tell no tales. Dakarai was not going to tell the truth of the events that occurred that day. Neither would she, and neither would Cass. Olive knew Dakarai and somehow understood that he would want her to sacrifice the sanctity of his cadaver for the safety of the rest of her family — he had wished it with his dying breath.

Without a word, but with a stab-stab-stab in her heart, Olive nodded and grit her teeth. She glanced momentarily at Seabreeze, appreciating the role she was playing in this tragedy — then, she was gone.      

rannoch believed olive, and so even though terance was already leaning towards olive's word-- he was automatically trusting of every word of her story. he gave one solemn nod as rannoch turned to him for confirmation, and then moved with his alpha to move the body down the mountain, where this monster would lay. he was thankful that the mountain was rid of him, and even more thankful that olive and cass were safe.

Once Olive had left, Rannoch and Terance went about and completed their responsibility. With their combined effort, it did not take them long to remove Dakarai from Sunspire's territory. They laid him within the center-most section of Redsand Canyon; Rannoch was adamant about leaving the cadaver in the open. 

In death, Dakarai would be punished for a crime that he did not commit.