Duck Lake You realize that tinned food is just for crackheads and wars?

@Caiaphas

He'd been restless since the encounter with Sunny. Restless, irritated. There was a history to Bhediya that he'd never be privy to, and it got under his skin like nothing ever before. He wandered more frequently now. It took away his ability to look after her. . .but perhaps he'd hate what he found.

He still loved her, Pygmalion reasoned as he wandered the reeds of the lakeshore. He would never stop. But there was a reckoning coming, and coming soon. He ought to have it with himself alone, but he would inevitably drag his mate into it as well.

Pyg looked out at the frozen lake, pressing one paw against the ice. It gave slightly; the weather had been warmer today and a temporary thaw was afoot. He knew it wouldn't last long, though when winter's jaws came calling again, he didn't know. He sighed, breath floating out in a long, frustrated cloud.

onward went the burning form of once-caiaphas, now more scucca than flesh. it -- caiaphas -- had a vision unaltered since she had first left bearclaw. the ghostly form of kevlyn continued ahead, pursued doggedly by the ransacked siren.

she staggered at the foot of the lake, having neither the perception nor the wherewithal to avoid it or the wolf that lingered nearby. she did not see pygmalion, so consumed was her burning hallucinations. her jaws were slack as she passed within several hundred feet of the paused male, goblets of drool streaming behind her.

kevlyn. she could remember little, but something persistent stuck to her mind: she must follow him.

no matter the cost.

A ghastly figure appeared, gaunt and drooling. Pygmalion stared at her in some concern when he realized this was no wraith, but a living, breathing wolf—just barely. He blinked, taking a step back in instinct. Still, he couldn't in good conscience just let her go by without inquiring after her health.

Are ye all right? Pyg asked, eyes wide. Obviously she was not, but it was a good place to start. D'ye need help? Bringing her to Uaine Gorsedd was a bad idea; he wondered if she had a home elsewhere that he could lead her to. Her own could take care of her.

her insides afire, caiaphas continued. she staggered across the snow, a spidery incubus — silvery gaze fevered with hideous torment.

when pygmalion spoke the crone turned her harrowing gaze upon him, her blackened gums frothed over in raging spittle. she did not see white.

she saw red.

and knew that form - the cardinal blaze of hot-iron scarlet across the bitch’s back — those sonkilling eyes.

tuwawi.

the bitch that had stolen her son, her life — her future. what was left of the siren’s synapses remembered just enough that a burning enmity blazed through her — with a ragged baba-yaga’s scream, caiaphas lunged toward pygmalion.

And then all of a sudden, things went belly-up.

Whoa, hey! Pygmalion shouted, skittering backward to avoid the charging crone. His paws were slowed by the soft, sucking ground near the edge of the lake, and even if he'd been on better soil, he was no match for her speed, even in a crazed state.

He'd seen this before, perhaps. Wolves gone mad. It had been what he'd feared with Sunny, why he'd warned Bhediya away from the young man. And now, he was set to fall victim to it.

Pyg turned and twisted, trying to avoid the onslaught, and his eyes darted to and fro, looking for the quickest way home.

heedless to the bog beneath her feet caiaphas charged, a garbled cry of madness wrung from her lips. pygmalion was far more oriented than her, but perhaps that was an undoing -- caiaphas did not (could not) care for her footing, and so, came blindly upon him.

what was left of her motor functions, however, lacked finesse -- with a snarl she snapped towards a hock, an arc of ropy drool strung after her narrow muzzle. most of her blow was ended by her sudden stumbling; thrust into pygmalion's flank, the rabid creature lost its balance and was flung into the snow headlong.

Panic gripped him like a vise; his vision blurred as adrenaline pumped madly through his veins. He was on his toes, doing a sort of dance to escape the mad woman. All seemed well—

and then he felt the sting of teeth upon a hind leg, a sharp burst of pain.

Luckily, that blow had sent her headlong into snow, her motion stymied. Pygmalion took that opportunity to break free from her insidious presence, sending cold, muddy water in a spray around him as he fled. He ran until he could not run any longer, and even then, he did a kind of fast-walk.

Once he felt himself safe (he might as well have been on a different planet) Pyg fell to the frozen ground in a heap, gasping for air, wondering what in hell had just happened.

there upon the snow caiaphas rolled and rioted, fighting the invisible demons that had taken control of her body -- of her mind. pygmalion's form hauled away at a speed she could not match, and instead she was left to fight whatever inimitable monster possessed her.

frothing, staggering, gurgling, caiaphas rose anew -- and lurched off in the opposite direction. kevlyn's form lingered somewhere distantly in the trees -- calling beckoning commanding her soul return to home.