Bearclaw Valley eight seconds

Mature Content Warning

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The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: Gore, character death.

Things were good, Evien had decided. He'd been handling his leadership role well, he was active within the pack, and he'd made multiple friends here. Ursus was undeniably where his loyalty lay, and where he'd live out the rest of his life - if they all stuck together and didn't make the mistake of splitting up. He knew Astara had gone, looking for her lost child (who was not so lost anymore - he should know, because she’d been recovering in his den,) but there were still enough of them here that they were all safe and fed, even in the winter. 

They were prosperous, really, if Evien could pick a word. Sure, things weren't perfect, but there hadn't been outright war in a while - a fact he was grateful for, because no one wanted to deal with injury during the frozen winter months. Least of all the healers who would have to deal with that shit. 

Evien had really found himself here. He'd initially come because of Fields, who, if he were being honest, he was still smitten by. He'd stayed because of @Merrick's charm and @Astara's unwavering ferocity. To think that they trusted him enough to let him help lead here was incredible, to him - he'd never thought that he'd make such deep connections. He also hadn't expected to fall for them, but... well... that had certainly happened. Not that he'd ever tell the two of them that - it was dangerous, really. One - or both - of them might get too possessive of the other, and he didn't want to break the trust that they'd offered him. 

Still, maybe one day... one day they'd figure it out. 

It was a cold day, with light snow falling from the sky. Evien's bad leg was throbbing and stiff, and he'd settled himself down for a day of re-organizing his herbs. They had a decent stock - not perfect, by any means, but not bad either. Enough, if nobody picked any unnecessary battles. 

There had been a bit of molding in some of the chamomile - not all, thank god, but enough that Evien wanted to deep clean it. He'd gathered all of the leaves that the fuzzy white fungus had rooted in and had taken it outside. Far enough away from the den that there would be no chance of it coming back. 

His paws crunched unevenly on the snow covered ground, light and soft. It was so peaceful that, for a moment, Evien rather lost himself in it. And maybe if he hadn't paused, if it hadn't been so cold, if his leg hadn't been so stiff, the next eight seconds would have gone much differently. 

One. His pawsteps weren't the only set crunching down on the snow anymore. Heavier footfalls approached him from the side. 

Two. A foul stench filled his nostrils - musky and rancid. Familiar - really, it was surprising he hadn't encountered more of them. It was Bearclaw Valley, after all. 

Three. Evien turned, not thinking, and made eye contact with a large grizzly sow. She was about ten meters away.

Four. There was a brief moment where he registered that she had cubs - larger, now, because this would mark the end of their first year with their mother. They hung back, unsure. 

Five. Evien's brain actually decided to work and he turned back, intending to run to the medicine den. The entrance was too small for the bear to enter - he'd be safer, there. At least until someone else from his pack could come and help him. Merrick probably wouldn't hurt a bear, but maybe they could outsmart it together. 

Six. The bear's heavy steps sped up behind him.

Seven. It quickly became apparent that he was not going to outrun the bear. He'd reached the entrance to the den, but she was right on him. In a panic, Evien turned back around. Maybe he could get her to back up, just a bit, just enough for him to get to safety. 

Eight. She reared. Raised her right forepaw. 

And swung. 

The bear hadn't been looking for food. Perhaps it had been that Evien had gotten too near her twin cubs. Perhaps their paths had crossed at just the wrong moment. Perhaps there was no real reason at all. But a seventy-pound wolf was no match for a three-hundred pound bear, and one swing was more than enough. Blood sprayed from the place where her paw had connected with his head, painting the front of the medicine den in a deep crimson. 

Evien's body lay just outside the den, on its side. The snow was red underneath. His head rested about two meters to the left, where it had rolled a bit down the hill. 

A set of large bear prints would slowly become lost in the snow.

Open to Ursus members who want to post <3 I love you guys. Thank you for letting me and Evien be part of this.

*sobs*

the stench of blood rises not so far from where she had been healing, and of course she seeks it out. perhaps some great creature, felled by one of Ursus's great hunters. it must be that; the Saints are long gone, the wolves at the stones (or so she's heard) vanished (and with them, presumably, Laurel). no more enemies at their doorstep.

so they will dine.

Avicus finds the head first. it stops her dead in her tracks. this was no deer or goat. his green eyes, sightless, bore into hers. she stares in disbelief for a moment before continuing on, finding the body, a trace of warmth still clinging.

she lets out a tremulous howl for her parents, and @Aventus; Evien had healed her brother, after all, and she knew the leaders of Ursus were fond of him. she herself never grew close, but he was always there, at the periphery—

bear. it reeks all around. 

her stomach plummets. it could have been her. it almost was. her injured shoulder throbs as she paces 'round the scene, a low whine in her throat, unsure of what to do with a body that would not, could not, be consumed.

Aventus had watched it all with a grim set to his jaw.

He'd stood high on a hillock in the trees, melding with the shadows, watching the sow waddling with her two cubs through the snow drifts. He'd seen Evien carry a bundle out of the den, had eyed the chocolate healer with a mixture of warmth and anxiety. He must kill Evien, but it was harder than he thought it would be, to kill a wolf who had ensured his health.

That was when Aventus began to pray, a quiet mantra under his breath, oh bear, mighty bear—

And the bear answered. Evien spotted the bear. The bear spotted Evien. Aventus watched it unfold with bated breath, all the while fervently repeating it in his head. He could not kill Evien himself, but he was prince of bears. He could will the bear to do it for him, and that was exactly what he did.

When it was over and Evien lay motionless in the snow, Aventus' heart grew heavy. He didn't know what purpose his sire had in mind for killing the healer, and he didn't know what punishment there might be in store for him for not landing the blow himself, as Merrick had surely wanted. But he had commanded the bear, and it was done. He had commanded the bear. That was surely worthy of celebration.

Avicus' howl split the air. Aventus lifted his ears, listening, and waited twenty heart beats before descended from his place atop the hill to where Evien lay in a winter scene painted macabre by the magnificent spray of blood. He came to rest some distance away, across from his sister, dropping into the snow with an impassive stare at the healer's mangled skull.

;;; ily

merrick had spent the night in contemplations. he would make a meet between tuur and avicus; he would reacquaint them with the idea of one another, and see that his red girl bent the younger boy to whatever whim she might entertain. that would be the way tuur might repay the milk and meat that had been spent to rear him in ursus. merrick possessed the young life; he was god in the valley, as he had told the handsome easthollow wolf that day. he was god to this boy.
but merrick knew better than to be god to himself, and yet it did not stop the rising shard of hubris that sparkled in his chest to have ursus return slowly to itself. small, shaven down to the core of what they had always been. 
and so he moved through the beautiful ageless forest that had stood in the valley before them and would stand after; 
the chilling cry of the scarlet cub rising through the trees.
merrick's mouth dried; he stood silent and wondering at the sound of it, and then unbidden his body began to wreak havoc with a speed that ripped the bear-king between the trees and sent him skidding to a halt at the juncture formed by his son and by his daughter.
the pull of her body brought the fur up sour like bitter stone-spires from nape to tail.
evien evien evien evien ev —
the snow churned by bear paw and the air filled with bear scent and the drifts stained with wolfblood in a wide puddle where the healer's body lay disconnected from his unseeing head.
merrick roared, and for a moment the anger that choked him was so great he was forced to fight bodily the insistence he might whet his teeth upon his son;
sacrifice one of them to the spirit that had been left unfed, and so had come for 
flanks heaving; mind splitting along the coils of serpentine that only burned his single eye with a near-fatal malevolence,
and yet he did not know where to place it — one step and then another, his children fading behind the vacuum of focus created by his splintering; merrick strode forward grab the healer's body. 
evien's blood leaked through his teeth;
merrick swallowed some part of it, mutedly recognizing the reality of taking such essence and holding it within his own cells.
he dragged and worked until head was reunited with corpse as closely as he could manage,
and all the while he dared not aventus nor avicus to approach him, ignoring them both until he stood over the two dead halves of a man he had loved — loved in ways known and yet unknown to himself — flanks heaving and jaws smeared with vermillion he would not bother to wash away.
the bear had done this.
"ursus must be fed blood. always. we did not give it enough." merrick did not know if he could say evien's name again in this moment.
his voice a harsh plain of ice studded with unconcealed rage. "bury his body."
an order; he extended a hard paw and dragged evien's head toward himself, thinking only in red wordlessness and the altar of bones his beloved raven had always kept.

she has learned to shy away from her father's rage. fear, now—for he reminds her of the bear that had almost claimed her life. . .that had claimed Evien's. she ceases pacing, staying well back from Merrick. the blood is thick and cloying in the air and her stomach growls; how cruel the world is to link the smells of food & fate, life and death.

the (bear) lord giveth, and the bear lord taketh away.

Avicus nods once at her father's command. she stares down into the snow. begins to dig, soon feeling numbness between each toe. when she reaches the ground it is like stone, impenetrable. there is no way. . .

but there has to be a way. Merrick commands it. the red girl scrabbles at the frozen earth, chipping away bit by bit. her pads become raw, her forelegs ache, a nail or two (or three?) is lost to the soil. 

slowly, with bloodied paws, she begins to make an indentation in the valley, and glances back at Aventus a few times while she does so, wondering if he has the same awed respect for her father to join her in this task. he must, right?

Aventus watched mutely as his father's rage bled out around him, confused by the display but silent. This was what Merrick had wanted, and his son had delivered, albeit via a vector. He wanted to announce this victory, but wisely held his tongue. He would seek Merrick later, when the loss was less fresh.

For that was what it was: Evien's death could be nothing but a loss, even if Merrick had ordered it. His sire had his reasons. The bear required blood.

Next time, it would be Avicus who died. The gaze he leveled on his sister was devoid of any hint of warmth, care, or respect for her. Only the paranoid belief that she would kill him if given the chance, and that his only course for survival was to hold her at arm's length, and kill her first if she tried. The chilling and emotionless declaration of not dead over his broken body had severed the bond between them, at least on his end. He saw her as an obstacle, and now that he could command the bear, he was better than she would ever be. More dangerous by far.

Yet he would not disobey his sire, to whom all his previous respect for his sister had been transferred. Wordlessly, numbly, he began to dig at the hard earth as well, losing himself in repetition and the reverberating pain in his toes and nails.

merrick turned away from them.
he stared at the bloodied head beneath his stone-made paw.
the green eyes; he gazed into their very pupils, willing a blink, a breath, some proof that evien had not died.
of course he had; of course nothing would come to pass, nothing save for merrick's empty gibbering gaze, light stolen with the physician's death.
a swallow, bobbing his throat.
merrick picked up the head and was gone.

Aventus digs, too. together, they create a hole big enough to which they can transfer Evien's body. she stares at it for a long, pondering moment, panting slightly, having lost all feeling in her paws. 

at least it's headless. that softens the blow. this way, she can treat it as some random carcass and not the pack's beloved physician.

with a glance at her brother, she moves slowly toward the corpse, and gently seizes a foreleg. with Aventus on the other end, they will be able to move him into the earth and then begin the process of covering him up again. like burying prey. . .except no one will be digging this one up to eat later.

she thinks so, anyway.

From the corner of his eye, Aventus watched while his sire retreated with Evien's head in tow, and felt some sickness coiling in his stomach. He willed his attention to the task at hand and tried not to think of the physician's lifeless eyes. Whether he understood it or not, this was the way things had to be. He had done as he was told.

When the hole was wide enough, he joined his sister in dragging what remained of Evien to it. It was surprising how heavy the body was. In life, Evien had seemed buoyant in a way, light on his feet, or perhaps light only in the eyes of Aventus, who knew him as the only truly kind influence within Bearclaw's walls. Now the whole weight of his life unlived draped over his body and made it difficult to lift.

The corpse tumbled into the hole, and for a long moment, Aventus merely stared down at it. Then, still without a word or even a sidelong glance at his sibling, he began to scrape the dirt back over the body.

the earth rains down upon Evien in quiet, muffled thumps. they are silent, too, burying the healer, each seemingly lost in their own world. Avicus cannot get the stench of bear out of her nose, and in her mind, she relives the attack upon her own frame with each and every heartbeat.

it could have been me. it could have been me.

eventually, her pelt dull and dusty, she pulls back, looking down upon their work. she casts a brief glance to Aventus, then departs without a word. specks of blood from her damaged paws trail behind her. and she doesn't look back.

but she will be back, if only because the healer's death will continue to confound her for a long time yet.