Stone Circle vittorio

the looming of his hot veins had kept merrick awake, listening to the breath of his own throat, the heartbeat that resonated solely in his chest.
what part of these things had indra created? the boy had become content enough not to think of her, but her anguised face in its last moments arrived in starlight to plague him.
unfettered, restless, at dawn the young coywolf left his nightshade with a firm look that told her he must not be followed. out of the valley he traveled, cutting a swathe through the newfallen snow for their silent, voluminous neighbor.
easthollow.
more than a trace of @Laurel upon the borders here, in the crisp snow, upon shrubberies, and he was caught up in a hot welling of hatred. his aunt had decided many things over his head, and weak indra followed her bidding as if she were born to it.
merrick's single eye burned toward the tall standing stones in a furor that grew as he waited, waited for something unknown and unseen, waited upon the whim of ursus growling in his breast.

Xan's return had brought her some sort of solace but she realised that this was but a false sense of security. She was not safe, she was never truly safe and sooner or later he would take her and he would tear her to shreds, or more likely worse. Paranoia had overtaken Laurel and while she did not trust Xan either, she knew that she needed someone strong to survive, to keep all of the other men out, to make sure that they did not hurt her like [i]he[i] had. Even now he ruled over her head and she hated it, hated every bit of it, but could not stop it from happening.

Indra was all that had kept her safe. Not being a part of a pack. Not tearing him limb from limb. It was always Indra, and now she no longer had her dear sister to guard her body with the ferociousness of a scorned mother.

Now she was alone, truly alone, and she had no one to keep him out. So he was there, every night, time and again. In every dream. In every male.

At the borders, that day, too. She stood erect, worry shimmering in her eyes, panic written upon her face, every muscle in her body tense. But it could not be -- He was dead -- He was gone -- She had tasted his blood and felt his skin tear --

-- And only when she noticed the ruddy paints on his nape did she realise it was not him at all. It was another ghost of her past, but a less unpleasant one than the man who had taken everything from her and brought her nothing. Nothing but bad children that she could not love anymore since her sister's death, no matter how hard she tried. Laurel's tail twitched and for a moment she considered leaving him be at their borders, for she had no desire to speak to Merrick at all.

She wasn't quite sure what made her stay in the end.

Merrick, she said as she approached -- but kept a few wolves' lengths between them -- the voice sounding as if it was not hers, as if it was a word foreign to her tongue. She remembered leaving him there and she remembered returning for him only to find that he was gone. That was how she remembered it, anyway, the truth an unpleasant but, to her, mostly insignificant detail.

merrick recognized her from a distance, her aloof, proud gait and the set of her head. so like indra's, so like her sister's that the boy fought hard the curl of his lip and the clench of his throat.
"hello, auntie," merrick purled, straightening beneath her opaque scrutiny of him. laurel looked older, features deepened by age and stress and time.
he wanted to tell her she looked like shit, slam her head against the hardpacked snow again and again and again and again and
but it wouldn't have been the truth. to his one burning eye, auntie laurel looked mostly the same, for she too was one of his ghosts, old features blurred by unconcern.
only his mother's face continued to stand out in stark, unadulterated relief, an HD video merrick replayed behind his eyelids during the nights when even exhaustion and astara's lust could not put him to sleep. 
had she found indra where he'd left her to lay in the elk meadow? did laurel somehow know? she was not excited to see her nephew, but the boy did not care. he cared only that she might find him out before his grand adventure had begun.
merrick searched her features openly.

What was he doing here, this ghost of her past? Why wouldn't they all just leave her alone? Laurel stared at Merrick, feeling empty, probably looking empty, too, eyes glossed over as if she was in some other place with her head, as if she wasn't really here. It had been so long since they had seen each other, and he had grown so tall now. She contemplated turning around, but it was as if her feet froze her in place. An unsafe reaction that she hated, for it meant that a repeat of what he had done, the dark furred devil, was inevitable, if she could not even defend herself, if she could not even run.

But this was just Merrick. Equally dark, equally pointed features that reminded her of the coyote blood that dwelled in her assailant, that dwelled in her son. She hated him, for confronting her with everything that was wrong in her life. For reminding her of the man who had ruined her life. For reminding her of her sister's death. The way he spoke reminded her of him, as there was a slyness to his voice, to the casualness in which he said auntie, the most wildly inappropriate word he could've used. A slyness that reminded her of him in every way, and it sent shivers down her spine.

But this wasn't him.

But this was just Merrick.

And now she must tell him about it, even though she did not wish it. But he deserved to know, anyone would agree. Your mother died, Laurel said, words that were impossibly hard to say for a myriad of reasons. Only then did she show some of the pain she felt; not just for Indra, but for everything that happened in her life. She looked at Merrick, not sure what reaction to expect.

what sort of filthy secrets could a sister hold for another sister? merrick wondered silently to himself as he waited for laurel to speak. his aunt had seemed to pale even further, features filling with a pain the boy had not expected.
what price had his innocent horrible slut mother exacted from her sibling when she had fallen beneath merrick's teeth?
i know, the young coywolf almost breathed in automatic, smug response to what laurel had said, and his face slowly contorted into a tight death-mask of expertly feigned grief, shock curling his mouth, single eye welling with the sudden sting of salt.
— all to veil the sudden eager smile that choked to death in his throat.
"she's dead?" merrick cried in a low voice, the very picture of a confused and scared boy, one that seemed so young. "she's dead? i didn't ... she never c-came back for me. i —"
well, indra had not. he had waited and waited and waited, hunting with nunataq, learning about the stars from gannet; merrick had created an entirely new life and still indra had not come back.
he lowered his face toward the snowy ground, inhaling a ragged breath, exhaling a sob. merrick, the actor. merrick, who could only ever fake normalcy. merrick, and having to be alone in his own cold skin.

Laurel didn't know what she was expecting. Whether she thought he might answer that he already knew or whether he might answer that he didn't care or whether he might answer in tears or whether he might say that he knew because he killed her himself or someone he knew had killed her. She didn't know but somehow none of those options were entirely ridiculous, what with how long she had not seen Merrick now. He had grown, and she had grown, and she didn't know if Indra had even seen him in the meantime. Laurel certainly had not. Maybe the same went for Indra.

When Merrick's façade crumbled Laurel just looked at him, her face blank and guarded. She wanted to feel bad for him, she really did. Wanted to hug him and tell him it'd be okay, tell him he still had her, tell him they were family and all of that. But she just couldn't. So she just stared as time ticked by.

Only when he said that she never came back, Laurel spoke. Not the reassuring words she had intended or wanted but couldn't but instead words defending her sister and poking holes in his sob story. Had she really become this cold, that she did not care and did not feel for him at all? Or had she always been this cold? We did come back for you, Laurel said, remembering they had come to the Hollow. Had they gone back before they were kicked out because they had no room for her pups? Or had Indra returned to the Hollow alone first, to look for Merrick? Laurel didn't remember the details but she remembered -- You left.

nothing in laurel's demeanour suggested she cared for the boy before her, and merrick's bitten ears begin to heat with the low pulsation of a darkening hatred. she had never loved him. she had taken indra away from her child, and while he had loathed his mother for going along so easily, it had first been laurel who led her astray.
and now she had delivered the news of her sister's death, then set her tongue to spar with his response.
merrick wondered what he would have done had the inner mechanics of his mind worked properly. this might have well  shattered him. 
good thing he was already broken.
the rage beat behind his tongue. he wanted to scream at her, rip at her eyes and mouth until she looked in any way different, until she looked as though she had some semblance of care for him. but she didn't. she never had. "i waited a long time, aunt laurel," merrick choked, the act continuing though he had begun to find it difficult. "i ... was so alone."

It annoyed Laurel a lot that Merrick seemed to get stuck in sad mode. It annoyed her because she could do nothing to stop it and it made her feel out of control. Nobody had comforted her when she was sad and crying when she was any age, so why should he deserve to be comforted? She had tried to do that -- she'd already given him more than anyone but Indra had ever given her in this world -- but it just wasn't enough for him.

Stop whimpering, she thought, but she just couldn't say the words. Instead, she remained silent even as he looked at her and said he had waited, and then she repeated: You weren't there. We looked, after, but you'd gone away. Her words sounded colder than she intended but it was all that she could do to keep herself from snapping and be either demeaning by saying he should stop crying, or outright shout at him. She wanted neither, so this was all she could do for now.

she doesn't
give a fuck
merrick drew his breath at the ice in laurel's voice. his aunt did not seem to give a single shit, not that she had ordered indra to abandon her only son, not that she too had left him behind, and not even now — not even now did blood of his blood stand to offer him comfort.
it would not have made a difference. not now. the gangrene of that loss had lodged itself in merrick's very marrow, rotting itself with great bites from the inside. it consumed him now, this angry rot. he swallowed, lifted his head, kept his tone controlled with a melancholy he did not feel. "how did she die?"
had laurel even seen the body he had left half-buried in the meadow? was she full of shit in that regard too?
fuck you

Honestly, Laurel didn't want to talk about this. She didn't want to talk about Indra's death and she was constantly torn between cradling Merrick at her chest as a reminder of the fond memories with Indra or telling him to get the fuck out because he was a reminder of all she had lost. Indra had been all and now her son was here bringing her in duality. But he was not just Indra's son, he had also left them, didn't wait for them, and he was a man. And men could never be trusted.

I don't want to talk about it. She just died. Laurel looked away, frowning. Out of sight for just a second and poof, dead. Gone. Gone, just like everyone else.

just died. 
merrick could no longer help himself; hatred burned away the last of his tears and rust-red nape flared to a series of bristling spikes.
he thrust himself into the woman's space with tense steps. "you took her away you fucking bitch and now you can't even tell me how the fuck she died?" features twisted into a contortion of first pain, and then rage.
"i didn't —"
strangle her and cry with her and lie down with her and bury her for you to fucking not know.
" — come here for you to act like a fucking idiot. if you hadn't taken her to look for your own stupid brats, laurel," merrick bit, "she would still be alive."

Laurel was taken aback when Merrick suddenly got angry. She felt fear boil in her gut, but she also felt numb; it was a strange sensation to feel both so strongly at the same time. Laurel frowned and looked at Merrick as she took a step back, her face still void of any emotion except for the light frown that had passed onto her face. ... Merrick? He suddenly changed and she didn't feel safe at all anymore. She knew what men were like and this was the first time that he too showed that he was a man, and not just Indra's sweet, innocent child who had lost his mother. And men... They were all the same, she had learned.

Fear lurched at her but it was masked by an anger that overcame her when he said that it was her fault that Indra died, for the unfairness of it all. That's not true! she shouted at him, her previously numb face suddenly overtaken with anger. You liar, you little shit, that's not true! Take it back!! Laurel didn't know how Indra had died, but it wasn't because Laurel was with her. If only she had stayed with Laurel, then she might never have met her untimely doom the way that she had. Laurel stayed her distance, wanting so badly to feel her teeth sink into his flesh but knowing that the risks were bigger than what benefits it might reap, if she succeeded at all.

aha. laurel snapped and merrick's single eye widened in surprise. now it was his turn to step back, though as his aunt's features filled with rage, his own flushed gleefully.
and as laurel shouted at him, merrick began to laugh; it raced from him in an outpour he could barely contain.
eventually the boy did gather up its tendrils; he inhaled and gave laurel a baleful look
bitch
"i hope it was worth everything, trading your sister for your inferior fucking children who hated you so much they left early," merrick sneered in a cold, placid tone, digging into her wound and tearing the sutures from the edges, anything to make her face change again.
"i bet she was rotting when you found her." he was gloating now, saying too much, but merrick was beyond the weak lacings of sanity.

Her face never turned back again after that; not that day, anyway. Laurel's teeth snapped shut in anger and she gritted them while he spoke. Before he was done she shouted at him already, unwanting to listen to his foul lies -- Shut your mouth, you little shit! -- She did not even think of what the implications behind his words might be, she did not think about what he said about her children, she simply stared at him with a rage that showed her desire to tear him limb from limb for what he had said.

When he said the last thing, she could not control her anger any longer and Laurel snapped forward towards him, teeth aiming for his face. She knew that it was not smart, but she could not stop herself, far beyond sanity herself.

merrick was compelled by a daunting, dark humour. laurel's jaws flashed; blood blossomed along his cheek. merrick shoved himself backward, tongue flicking to catch the rivulet that arrived near his own mouth. red-painted teeth glinted in a maddened smile, and then the boy had danced forward, leaping toward his aunt as he grabbed for her ruff
twist her flesh rip it choke her she can't breathe —
paws clawed at the earth; merrick raved within his mind in wordless ire as he wondered to himself
would her blood taste like indra's?
the thought thrilled him with a black lust.

It had never felt so right to tear into another's flesh and to taste their blood upon her tongue. It wasn't a thing Laurel had done often, and so the times she had before flashed before her eyes; going for her baby half-siblings when she was but young, at times defending the borders of Bearclaw Valley but those times were nothing but scraps.

The last time was with the beast that haunted her in her sleep even today, but in the moment itself the victory was hollow. His blood had tasted like nothing, like ashes from a fire gone out before then. His blood had tasted like the nightmares that haunted her today, or perhaps it was only the memory that had been tainted. But did it matter what the true memory of a thing was when all you had left was the hollow and marred shell, now?

Laurel licked her lips and stared at him after she had taken her distance, watched the madness spread through his face even as blood dripped from it. She was ready.

But of course, life never swayed Laurel's way. However ready she was did not matter when he finally came for her and the memories flooded her. The dark eyes of the man who haunted her nightmares were in the stead of his one eye, the teeth exactly the same, to the very detail, bared with intent to fix a broken pride. There was only one way. Her paws were rooted to the ground as she saw him attack, come straight for her ruff; rooted because all she could do was flinch when it really mattered.

She ducked her head down on instinct an instant before his teeth his and screamed with frustration at the same time when his teeth finally hit somewhere between her throat and scruff. Every bit of her body was filled with a paralysing all-consuming fear, and all she could do was think of what she should do rather than actually act.

laurel, despite all her posturing and ragged throat-swears, bent swiftly for merrick. his jaws engulfed her nape, and her scream pierced him, strident. bones rattled with the howl of it, and then the boy began to chuckle deep in his throat.
who gave a single fuck that he was here upon the edge of easthollow? the scent of her blood burned him. the goatish reek of her fear flared in the air like colorless particles of misery, and merrick glut himself upon them with a savage hiss.
he began to writhe, seeking to tear fur from skin and skin from fat and fat from muscle and muscle from
bone
her shriek echoed and echoed behind his eyes.

There was something haunting and all-consuming about the laughter in his throat. Laurel quivered and wanted to fight with every bit of what she had, but she just couldn't. It wasn't that she was done fighting or that she had given up; it was just a physical response while her mind screamed and shouted at her to go, go go! But she could not, petrified and brought back to that moment. Waiting, waiting, silently waiting for him to take what he wanted because she could do nothing else.

That day, she had fought with every bit of her body to get off the monster that had impregnated her. It hadn't been enough, it hadn't made a difference at all. If anything, it had only intrigued him and it had made him feel all the more powerful that he could tame such a beast as herself. If anything, it might have been the reason that he had returned later, wanting more of her, of what she had given him by struggling.

It was thoughts back to that fight that made her so apathetic now, unable to move even though she wanted with every bit of her being to fight like she had that day. But instead she could do nothing but wait and find out what came next. She already knew. Laurel blinked away the tears and a sob stiffled in her throat as he chuckled into her fur with the same kind of victorious cackles that the father of her children had when he had tamed her and when he had her pinned where she couldn't fight back.

The pain was muted by the fear and expectations that remained unmet, as teeth dug deep into her flesh. The pain was much the same as what he had done, except that it was caused mostly by her own fighting spirit while now it was not even necessary. Laurel was disgusted with her apathy, wanting to struggle back. Wanting to do --

Anything.

Anything but nothing.

But instead she just lay there.

Being torn to shreds.

Waiting.

Waiting...

600 for u <3

he found too swiftly that yanking at a corpse was less deafening fun, and more of a drain upon his senses. merrick yanked at her nape only a moment before he backed away, spitting her fur into the dirt alongside her paws.
"you're not worth it," he sneered, though in his eyes he beheld only indra indra indra indra —
— mama
lying there pathetically.
he wanted to vomit.
was she as weak as his mother had been? refusing to fight till the last? well he could have taken it from the womb who bore him, but not this shell to which he was related by blood, this husk who could not even respect merrick enough to defend her throat.
he snarled, thrust his mouth near one of her ears.
"i'll be back, aunt laurel."
and then you'll give me what the fuck i want.
with that, merrick turned and stalked away.
he did not look back.
eyes blurred with rage and tongue caught with bitterness, he went home to ursus and to astara, and never forgot the grit of his aunt's nape upon his teeth.

<3 <3 thank you for the thread, this was great!

... But it never came.

She lay there as the voice echoed in her ears --

You're not worth it.

-- Confirming everything that she had told herself before.

Except rather than receiving what she dreaded the most in this world -- not the sweet release of death but something far more diabolical -- nothing happened. Seconds ticked by as her heart beat thudded in the front of her head. It didn't add up. If she wasn't worth it, then why did he leave her be at last?

She was nothing more than a shell lacking any desire for life any longer. She had been from the day that Indra had been ripped by her side, and perhaps even before that. From the moment her latest children were born, but you know that it was much earlier than that, Laurel. His voice sent shivers down her spine as she did not hear whether it was Merrick or Iliksis that spoke to her in that moment, whether it was either of them actually speaking or just memories mixing with her messed up mind.

I'll be back he said, and she knew that he would be.

Because she knew what men were like.

She knew they would not relent. He won't relent. Next time.

Laurel lay there for a while. She didn't know how long or how short. Hours, days, minutes, seconds. Eventually she got up, and she started making her way back towards her home within Easthollow's confines. She wasn't safe here. Hadn't been, before this, but now --

But the truth of it was --

But the painful truth --

But his voice calling, whispering in her ears while a malicious smirk paints his face crimson red with her blood --

You aren't safe wherever you go.