Bearclaw Valley distant stars come in black or red.

loyalty had been a great tenet in merrick's life. it felt, as he descended toward the hound with only thoughts of hellfire, the world muted around him, his nightbird's snarling protracted and waved against a backdrop of sound — it felt as though he broke his own edict in one fell swoop.
and for a long flail of endless time, merrick found the truth beneath his tongue, beneath the flare of anger for the agony pulsating through his face: instinct, convoluted and twisted and healing into scar tissue over inner wounds. some force beyond himself, and if merrick had known the word it was projection.
from skin and limb and bone and strap of tendon; he left himself and watched a dark cyclops demon sweep down upon a man near-innocent as the babe he had just saved —
thunder down with full-bore bulletsmoke upon the yielding figure of the dog that had only ever followed merrick, only ever been kind, and at the last had been messiah for the bearwolf's son.
and ursus saw fit the sacrifice there before them.
if astara tore at him he would know it in the next moment; there was only the taste of copper and the interminable grinding of his jaws.
let all of ursus flee now, heed their queen, turn from this horrid place.
merrick did not trust himself.
he could not until it was over and all danger in him had been lanced like poison from the hard blistered surface of his great wrath.
yours is the only forgiveness that is worthwhile.

Chaos erupted around the blind and deaf newborn, who knew only the static crackle of tension in the air. Before anything worse could happen, Aventus was lifted a third time, then a fourth, the final being the gentlest jaws he'd felt around his midriff thus far. He was placed down beside his sister, of whom he had no real knowledge, and then the pair was left momentarily alone.

Shivering and wet from the dew on the grass, Aventus cuddled as he close as possible to Avicus and eventually succumbed to fitful sleep.

He closed his eyes, and kept them tightly shut. He did not want to see his master tear him apart. To have that be the last image in his mind. . . No. His mind wandered to his old masters instead, to a lush green yard and lovingly mangled tennis balls. To scratches behind the ears, walks in the park, sleeping curled up in a bed fit for a dog-king.

Ah, he had found freedom—but there was a cost!

And it hurt. The pain was nothing he had ever felt before, and as Merrick's teeth tore into his flesh, he loosed a bloodcurdling scream that reverberated off the walls of the valley. Every blow was a new agony, but—but—

Tennis balls. Fetch. Fetch! "Fetch, Fraser!" He may be pinned and bleeding in this world, but in his mind's eye, he leapt high into the air, jaws wide.

Caught it!

And as he descended, his humans clapping their hands with glee, things grew dark. Fraser was swooning, the pain too much to bear. A great numbness overtook him, and before he slipped away for good, he opened his eyes, and saw sky.

The same sky he'd always known. No amount of running could have released him from it. There was no liberty from the world in which he dwelled. No freedom. Only a different pair of shackles. And he had been a fool to think that Merrick's savage law was at all preferable to the life he had enjoyed.

I'm sorry, Fraser thought, then lost thought altogether. His chocolate eyes, pointed skyward, began to glaze over.

Cameo x2! So much has happened - Galena is just observing from afar to make it cannon.

---

Merrick promised freedom.

— the monkey's paw suddenly twisted like a snake —

That freedom let you throw yourself to hungry jaws, if you wished it. It also meant the freedom to seek blood if you wanted it.
Discord was becomming Galena's new favorite word to describe Ursus. There was growling, fur flying, puppy tossing — a chain reaction like a spark eating up a long fuse to a bushel of dynamite. At the end of it all, the fiery-eyed cyclops turned on the poor beast named Fraser (who she had only seen in passing). Galena had thought Merrick would exhibit some sort of self control — but the leader's furious actions were fast and deadly. The dog's eyes rolled as his bloodied body hit the ground. Lifeless. 

Galena looked to Orson, expression somewhere between incredulous and sick, but without an explanation. Today was supposed to have been glorious. 

Despite the bloodbath, Galena's nosed Orson's ruff and turned away to leave. Now wasn't the time to intervene, Galena thought to herself. Astara could protect her children. The dog wasn't coming back to life. What a horrible, unlucky, ominous night for the children to be born. 

---

This was... absolute madness. Evien stepped back away from Leila as she began her tirade, eyes scanning over to Merrick, who was... slaughtering the dog. And Evien was not fond of dogs, particularly, but that... attacking someone who could not - would not - defend themselves against you. It was horrifying. 

"God damn it," he snarled to himself, wishing that he could get closer - to try and do something to help - but he... well, he wasn't much of a fighter, and that dog was clearly dead. 

Green eyes found the cyclops again and he winced, ears pressing back to his skull, and then scanned the clearing to be sure everyone else was also at a safe distance before he, too, headed back to the place he'd been resting before, safely away from the clearing. Later, he would help get the dog's body, check everyone for injuries, but for now he could do absolutely nothing. 

Evien's exit.

And fucking chaos it was. 

Chaos, which, as sadly as told, had not benefitted Rosina the Witch. 

For a long time (though it was but moments) the white witch watched her Lord tear into the wiry furred dog. Watched as the creature drifted elsewhere as he was torn apart, watched as his bright eyes turned lifeless. His blood was of no use to hers so she did not move to collect as it pooled under him. No, her attention turned away as the deed was done and just quick enough too, as the Queen of these lands emerged, lashing firstly into her direction. 

Rosina, as small and quick as she had ever been even in her youth, jumped and danced out from the rang of The Enchantress' attack. The children had been spared the the dangerous and powerful mother bear would make it certain.

Nothing else left to do, Rosina pranced on thin, dainty limbs swiftly from the area. Even further, as she moved out of the claim of Ursus. If she would be denied the children here, she would find them elsewhere. 

Rosina Exits.

Orson:

Orson couldn't tear herself away from where she stood. Her body seemed unwilling to surge forward into the fray and end it (somehow) yet it was unable to move from Galena's side. She stared, gaping, as chaos surged around the birthing den — Merrick and the black mute fought, a brown wolf, green of eye, taking the child, and the dog, Fraser.

Fucking hell.

It wasn't until Galena touched her that she jolted, finally broken from where she was frozen. Fraser's body settled, no doubt cooling in the air as the last of his life fled from him. Orson turned away, staying close to Galena as she departed, feeling lost and betrayed.

-Orson exit.-

Ikkalrok remained long enough to watch the light be snuffed from beneath the lampshade of Frasers eyes. The familiar sound of the clicking of teeth was enough to spur Ikkalrok into movement away, though. She had no quarrel in this fight, and felt no sadness to see the cur depart this world. From the moment Ikkalrok had seen him, she had known the mongrel was not right. Merrick had seen it too, with only one working eye, and the others seemed... saddened by this.

Death was a part of life. Better he than any of they, she simply thought, as she quit the scene in silence.

The sounds were horrifying—but it needed to be done.

He shouldn’t have been so close, he shouldn’t have tried to raise a clamor; a mantra she found herself repeating like a thought until it would take root. If it would. Blood rushed her ears uncomfortably, her own pulse far from a comfort as she found herself twisting away.

What was done was done and safe to say, she did not want to incur any wrath for being apart of the gathering. The turn of the dark woman off somewhere to her side only bolstered her perceived wisdom, and Phoebe too quit the scene just as silently as she had come upon it.