Bearclaw Valley [m] feiticeira

Mature Content Warning

This thread has been marked as mature. By reading and/or participating in this thread, you acknowledge that you are of age or have permission from your parents to do so.

The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: gore

a rather sickening smell lured little lita from the den.
she shivers beneath the cool coverage of shadow, sunlight filtering from between pine branches and illuminating her path. everything around her felt unusually cold for a midsummer's afternoon — but despite this, gnats seem to be clinging to her.
the clearing almost looks grey. a flock of ravens scatter at the sound of her footsteps, alerting her of their unhappiness with shrill, annoying squawks. caw! caw! ra-a-a-ah! she mimics, giggling as one swoops down over her head and disappears into the tall reeds. (yeah, that'll teach 'em!) she snaps her jaws aimlessly in the general direction they flew off toward, tail fiercely swinging into a confident wag.
she'd been having fun, scampering around and chasing them, until she steps in something warm and wet and sticky.
when she looks down, the grass is red.
and if she squints really really hard, in between a huddled mass of birds and flies, she can see the mangled remains of what looked to be the head of a coyote.

I couldn't resist some gruesome sisterly bonding time! <3

From inside the den, Athella held back. Her dark baby blue eyes watched the retreating form of Lita, drawn out into the light. The sickening stench was heavy in the air. It was strange, tickling her nose in a way she had never felt before.

Already, an eerie sense of calm surrounded the young Bearclaw princess. Seated on her haunches, she watched with an intense, neutral expression. Studying what it was that drew her dark sister.

Then the glint of something red, so out of place on the green grass. It was faint, but it was enough to coax Athella out into the heat of the day. Prowling, she slinks up alongside her sister. A clash of a golden necklace against a black cloak.

Underfoot, against the grass, a sticky liquid seeped against her toes. She only glanced at her paw before looking towards the mass of birds. More glimpses of red. With a little hiss she stepped forward so they would give way. This discovery belonged to the Bearclaw sisters. It was on their land - they were entitled. She waited for Lita to catch up, acknowledging it was she who had truly found the gruesome puzzle first.

initially, the silver princess could care little of what the gold and the onyx princess were up to, as she remained within the comfort of the den. but both stop, and somehow their silence deafens her to all else. suddenly, she finds herself rising to her feet and spying what is it that halts them — until she smells it.

putrid, filthy, repugnant. adalynn learned what those words meant when she stepped foot near It.
It's eyes, glossy and faded like the surface of water. It's fur, messy and clumped together. It's mouth, slack open and shameless. It's body missing. instead, something putrid, filthy, repugnant runs from where the rest of It's should've been.

now, shes standing between It and her sisters as the shield between them before she breaks into a squeal for her mother, her father — anyone really, to take It away.

adalynn asks, who did this? but she is asking the wrong question.

she should've been asking what.

Ameline bathed herself as she lay sprawled in the entrance of the den. In dismay, she tried to slick the fur of her belly this way and that- to cover the obvious bald spots created by her nursing children. It would grow back, she told herself- but in the meantime, she hated looking like she had a combover alongside each swollen teat. 

She gave a faint smile to all three curious girls as they went past her, permitted to romp so long as she could keep an eye on them. She shuffled forward a bit, so she might catch a bit more fresh air before she went back to her grooming-

And as she inhaled, she too grimaced at the ugly scent. 

Her nose wrinkled in distaste; she wetted her muzzle with a flick of her pink tongue, only to find herself further repulsed by the scent and-

an alarm.

The fur along her spine stood up. Normally, she was detested and repulsed by smelly things, but this…The stench was stale and musty, but sick as well. She let out a surprised bark as she sat up, and looked around for Adalynn, Avalita and Athella- only to find them approaching the putrid object. 

Adalynn’s squeal was met with a sudden, loud growl as she bounded toward them, fangs bared. Never before would her children have seen this side of her- but it was her only means of ensuring that they did not touch the foul object. 

She snapped once at both Avalita and Athella- clicking her teeth in the air to shepherd them back, and snaked her head toward Adalynn, to ward her sentinel daughter back as well, before she stood protectively over the skull, willing to fend even her own daughters off if necessary.

She was wary of its powers; somewhere within the putrid, rotting flesh lay the likely cause of its death- a maddening sickness that could be dormant but still- she would take no chances. 

A ripple of dread rolled down her back. 
Someone brought this.
Someone is trying to curse you.
Someone is trying to 
kill
your
children.

She called for @Ancelin, so that he might see the bad omen that had been dropped, so conveniently, just at their doorstep. 

”Thtay back, girlth,” She spoke to them then; still serious, but less hostile. She would apologize later, shower them with praise- but for now, she had to keep them from touching the cursed skull.

@Andrelia was just about to close her baby jaws around her dad's paw, which he held above her, hooting like a rude older brother rather than the father he was supposed to be at this moment. ameline's tension drew a flick of his ear; he looked up when his mate stood to her paws and abruptly left the den.
"hold on, sport," the rex muttered, holding any further charges off with said bitten paw. he caught the fetid reek on the air. he was up too, ordering andrelia to stay put where she was in the den but sensing she would run after him all the same.
ameline stood over a lump of something dead in the grass. ancelin's spine prickled and he paced forward, the hard set of his shoulders warning back their little princesses should they try for the object again.
the glut of his own superstition rose hot and sickening as he stared down into those recessed, half-closed eyes, saw the yellowing tongue and the ripped cords where throat had been, where a voice once spoke.
"something put this here," ancelin growled, tracking for the smeared blood and the remains of where its body should have lain. nothing.
the suspicious indigo set itself on ameline. "kvarsheim?"

ty all for joining! :D anyone welcome! no posting order <3

so much seemed to happen all at once.
in a devastating crescendo, her family fell down upon her shoulders, all just as shocked and intrigued as avalita was. she cannot seem to pry her eyes away from the — thing, much in the same way one does when they see a horrid accident on the side of the highway.
it stares into the ether with glassy, milky eyes, little white crescent-shaped grubs — maggots — crawling out from the permanently flared nostrils. burnt sienna flecks the corners of the open mouth; and upon closer inspection, one might see the hints of cartilage and bone peeking out in shards of torn away skin.
mama forces her back, and while normally avalita would have fought this, her survival instinct rages with an unknown, creeping terror. papa encroaches next, muttering a word the girl did not understand. kvarsheim?
nah! she is quick to add her rebuttal as she points out a tuft of dark chestnut fur lying in the grass, head shaking furiously. beaw.

the tiny click of her teeth bounces off the walls – foiled again! andrelia overturned in heady laughter all the same at ancelin’s hollers, preferring this parenting style over a pull-up-your-trousers-you-cant-eat-that-thats-and-too-damn-bad! dad any day.

one by the dozen (three is a lot and its like any of the former knew the tally) her sisters flittered out of her limited focus, not that she was entirely paying attention to them when it was daddy and favorite daughter time. but soon her father rose with his sun, and like the pantomime child she was, the bruin-girl swaddled her baby fat after his path, trying and failing to imitate his gait.

overturned frescos of fresh loam dressed cheeks stippled with gooseflesh—sensational death. but the girl was particularly infatuated with the glassy eyes, and given how unbreathing the animal was, she didn’t think it would if she slipped one for herself.

she gargled in her hoity-toity honey boo boo manner of wailing, “da! da!” in the way that she hoped her father would get her the thing she wants.