Ouroboros Spine this place

For @Mordecai. A few hours after Ptarmigan's death.

Now that the initial shock had worn off, Viggo found himself wandering aimlessly through the spine. His world had been flipped upside-down, and there was little keeping him here now that his leader was gone. Mordecai was here, though, and the Ostrega knew that his brother (for all intents and purposes) should know that he planned to leave. And if his sole family member here could convince him, there was a chance he would stay.

A low, mournful howl called out for Mordecai, requesting his presence. If he did not show up, Viggo would assume that his kin did not wish him to be here, and Viggo would resume his travels elsewhere.

Gonna keep this vague because I don't know the final outcome to Ptarmigan's death thread just yet. :C

Viggo had been a flighty sight at the grounds where Ptarmigan had died. But it came as little surprise to Mordecai that he would be summoned in due time. Whatever the summons were for he couldn't have figured, but in the present moment there was little that he was really figuring. His expulsion could have been around the corner, or he could have found himself in another predicament entirely. Either way, the past few hours had gone by steadily enough that he hadn't thought to clear himself of the blood that clung to him as he made his way to the source of the summons.

Finding Viggo was never all that hard, but only because he looked for him well. It was not long before Mordecai found him lingering, and only half-shared the sorrow that emanated from him. “Viggo,” he called softly from his cover in the brush, eyeing him carefully. He stepped in close, but not as close as he would have in times past. Out of respect, out of his own involvement in the turn of events that had plunged the Spine into even deeper, darker times.

Mordecai arrived, though Viggo could tell at once that he had not felt the same way about Ptarmigan. That much he should have known, based on their other meeting together. “I have no place here, Mordecai.” Blunt, yes. But there was no way that Cara and her lot would allow him to live here in peace. That much Viggo knew with certainty. He had been the only one to stick by Ptarmigan's side through thick and thin. Even Andrus had left as soon as she had claimed her throne. Now, though, there was little reason for the pale Ostrega to stay.

“I wanted to say good-bye, at least.” It was a shame, really, that things had not worked out here. Viggo had thought that he might grow old and die here. But it was not meant to be. He had nothing keeping him here now, and nobody wanted him kept here (aside, perhaps, from Mordecai). Viggo gave a half-hearted shrug to his brother, at a loss for words.

Wanted to reply to this in a bad way so I'm keeping it vague because STILL IDK. Ilu, though!

His words were not meant to be a barb, but they still stuck him in the way one would. Though he retained his stoicism, he found himself lowering his gaze uncomfortably for a moment. He understood where Viggo came from, but he didn't like it. Then again, he reckoned that he wasn't supposed to like it, as no goodbye was ever easy, and he had said plenty of them over the years. In that moment it was about as sapping to him as seeing Sitri turn in for the kill on Ptarmigan, and it drained him considerably to compare the feeling to this.

“But you do have a place here,” he said, finding resolve to run on. “We're family, and family always has a place with one another.” He too knew that some few others would not be so accepting of Viggo, but the way it was they weren't too accepting of Mordecai either. For a moment he considered asking to go with him, but instead he found himself voicing another route altogether. “I want you to stay, Viggo. If I have to take control of the Spine, then I will. I don't intend to let these jokers run us all into an early grave, but I can't do it alone.” By the time he had reached that conclusion, he felt his own strength in his tone.

And he knew what he was asking of Viggo, knew that the wolf he viewed more as a brother than a nephew could tell him no and walk away. If it came to that, Mordecai knew he could not stop him, just as his father could not stop him from leaving. “I'm asking you to wait this out a bit longer, maybe longer than you want to. But if worse comes to worse, I'll come with you. We'd both have better chances at survival, and I know some places we can go,” he went on to say, thinking of Verrine in the Bay. He had no idea if they found themselves ousted if the Bay would take them in, but he thought of Thistle as being reasonable. Verrine would vouch for them as well.

Gonna wrap this up. I miiiight bring him back in the future, though.

Viggo shook his head. He could no longer remain here. Not with the ghost of Ptarmigan haunting his dreams. He wanted to make promises that he couldn't keep, that he would come back to the spine after he had healed. But that felt too cruel, even for Viggo.

“I can’t,” he replied, finally. “Not after Ptarmigan.” Viggo knew that stretching this out any longer would only make it more painful. “Good luck, brother. I know you’ll do well for yourself.”

Not allowing for Mordecai to say anything more, Viggo turned his back on the place he had once called home and headed toward greener pastures.

For as much as he wanted to give Viggo chase, to simply throw everything down and take off with him, Mordecai only found himself watching as his relative bounded off. He could not fathom the hurt that Viggo felt, but in a sense he had a taste of it on his own. It brought an interesting perspective to him that he had not had before. Perhaps now he understood why his father had fought him so much on leaving himself. But unfortunately, what was done, was done.

He lingered, alone, for some time. Statuesque against the fading foliage, Mordecai could feel the emotions that broiled within him and perhaps not for the first time he did not know how to handle them. There was a plethora of sorrow to be found in him, but rushing to break through that was an indescribable rage that surpassed what he had originally felt for Ptarmigan. Turning back towards the interior of the Spine, he eyed the paths that lied before him roughly, and set off down one. There was simply no more time he could have to dwell, at least none that he would allow.