Hushed Willows we'll create an empire for you.

I think this is technically still within the pack boundaries... but idk geography is wat

Harlyn had spent much of her time thus far at the Keep helping her family settle and making sure the two families integrated smoothly. Though there remained unrest among a few within their ranks, both tasks seemed to be making steady progress. It had taken a while, but she had finally found a place of peace in this new pack, particularly now that Mordecai had rejoined her. It finally put Harlyn in a place where she felt comfortable venturing further from the protection of the Crook, as she did so that day.

Though it was not the Hollow, Marauder's Keep offered many things that she had treasured in her former home. It was less shaded and dark, but still gave her a feeling of being embraced and protected all around. With a twinge of sorrow, she thought of how Luke would have been disappointed with its lack of waterways in comparison to the Hollow, but it didn't matter much to her. What the land did have was sufficient, and anything it lacked was well made up for in the abundance of willow trees, which had always been a favorite of the druid's.

After a few hours, Harlyn found herself wandering along some of the higher reaches between the willow-covered valley and the Ridge to the East. There were certain plants that only grew in these rockier regions where vegetation was more sparse, and she was keen to see if this land would hold any of such treasures. She had just climbed up onto a higher shelf of rock and trotted over to a bundle of spindly brush, not yet painted with any of the green that had begun to seep into the rest of the world, when she heard a sound that stilled her heart and sent a prickle down her spine.

How Harlyn had failed to notice was a question that flashed very briefly in her mind the moment she heard the wild, snarling hiss of the wolverine only a few feet away. The druid froze in place, turning her head slowly until she spotted the creature's den - a simple crack in the rock out of which two eyes gleamed brightly. She swallowed, knowing perfectly well the ferocity of such animals, particularly when they had offspring like this one.

Harlyn took a step backwards to move away, but the wolverine took it as an opportunity to attack rather than to settle down. It was clearly driven by hunger as evidenced by the raggedness of its coat and the unnatural cling of loose skin over its ribcage. It took the druid by surprise causing her to hesitate. She'd barely lifted a paw when she felt teeth close around her ankle, tearing into her flesh.

The alpha cried out in pain and fear as the creature whipped its neck, dragging Harlyn to the ground as it did. At another time, she would have been better suited to fend it off. Perhaps she would even have been able to keep her balance against it. But the famine had effected her as well, making her weaker and slower in her reflexes than ever she had been in her life. So, down she went with a snap as her shoulder crashed into rock, sending sharp pains shooting through her side.

The moment she landed, she began to scramble for purchase on the ground to stand back up. The wolverine continued to lock its jaws on her ankle, tearing deeper until she felt its teeth grind into her bones. It was worse than any physical pain she'd ever felt, and so it was with reckless desperation that she wrenched herself wildly away. It took only a few bucking jerks before she tore herself free, but the sudden release of her ankle came as another surprise and the wolf flew backwards towards the edge of the precipice. Harlyn stumbled as she went back and tried to find her footing again, only to slip as her back paw searched the empty space behind her.

It had all happened in the matter of seconds, but when Harlyn found herself falling down along the steep wall of the ridge it felt as though time froze. She felt each stab of pain as her body bumped and slipped down the rocks; heard every crack of one bone or another upon solid surface, until she felt and heard no more.

The wolverine snarled in aggravation as it peered over the edge of the cliff some 70 feet above. The creature was starved, but not enough that it would attempt to make its way down to claim its meal. It licked the blood from its lips as it turned and trudged back into its den in the mountainside.

He was old enough to roam the pack territory, though not without an accompanying adult. Tambourine didn't have any qualms with this arrangement, just like he didn't intend to break any rules when he watched Harlyn leave and immediately gamboled after her. Nobody called him back and, really, he thought nothing of it. He chased after her, a chubby little shadow, never quite able to catch up but enjoying the pursuit nonetheless.

She (unwittingly) led him much further than Tavi had ever taken him before and he fell back, distracted by all the sights and smells. It was only when he heard the sounds of an altercation that he jerked to attention, realizing he had lost sight of Harlyn. With a rowdy bark, the flop-eared puppy darted into the trees, heading toward the noise, and arrived on the scene just in time to look down at a crumpled and unconscious Harlyn.

Tambourine immediately skittered closer, nose to the ground, sniffing at the blood pooling around her mangled leg. Abruptly, his mouth filled with saliva. And before he knew it, he was chomping on her mauled limb, small, needle-like teeth digging into her broken flesh and tearing off a chunk, which he greedily swallowed before diving in for another.

She may have laid there for two hours or two seconds. Harlyn was completely unaware by the time her eyes fluttered opened and the sharp grip of agony snatched her once again. The druid moaned pitifully as she began to shift her weight. There was blood in her mouth and she knew quickly that she had bitten her tongue on the way down. She knew also that there was a great ache in her hip that perhaps spoke of some fracture, but overall she felt as though her greatest injury was nothing more than a great amount of bruising.

That is, until her senses began to sharpen and she became quite suddenly aware of the continued tearing of her ankle. For one horrible instant, Harlyn thought that the wolverine had followed her and was continuing its attack upon her. She flipped again, tearing her paw out of the reach of the beast and finding her footing to cower back a few feet before she stopped, shook her head, and realized that the wolverine was no where near her.

There was only Tambourine.

She had thought that time had slowed as she'd fallen down the cliff, but it was nothing compared to the absolute stop when she spotted the blood upon the little boy's muzzle. For what seemed like a decade, Harlyn felt the blood drain from her body, washing away the feeling in every nerve of her body. Her mind was too shocked and horrified to believe what logic was trying to tell it, and so she simply stared at the child without a thought in her brain, her entire frame trembling from pain or disgust, she did not know.

After another bite or two, the leg was abruptly snatched away so forcefully that Tambourine plopped onto his bottom. He found himself suddenly gazing upward into Harlyn's stricken face, his silver muzzle painted with her blood. He licked his chops noisily and smiled at her, totally shameless in his absolute naïveté. His smile faltered a little in the face of her apparent distress, then grew an instant later when an idea came to him.

This was a game; games were fun; and having fun made people smile. In an effort to alleviate whatever was causing the frown on the adult's face, Tambourine lurched forward and snapped playfully in the direction of her broken leg. His little whip of a tail writhed behind him as a playful, rumbling bark crept from his chest, up his throat and burst explosively from his stained muzzle.

Harlyn didn't move a muscle until Tambourine leaped towards her paw. It was instinct that drove her then as all she saw was another attempt to turn her into prey. Swiftly, she bore down on the pup with a throaty snarl, grabbing his scruff and yanking him down onto his back to force him into submission. It was done with force, but not with the intent that he be hurt at all. She simply wanted him down in a position she knew to be one that was safe for her so that she could think through the morbidity of what had just happened. And so she stood over him dominantly, holding him down while she sorted through her emotions.

As much as it horrified her on an emotional, physical and moral level, Tambourine was just a child. Perhaps he'd thought her dead. Maybe he even mistaked her for a different animal. Or perhaps on the simplest basis of all, he'd seen the ragged skin of her arm and thought she was just holding out a scrap of meat for him. The logical workings of her brain began to steady her wildly beating heart and lower the gorge that had risen in her throat. He was not a mentally ill, demented, sick beast. He was just a confused little boy.

Still shaking, Harlyn nudged his temple to comfort him, assuming her move had probably terrified him. In spite of herself, she felt bile rise again and she swallowed hard and shook her head to keep it at bay.

The youngster barely had time to react to the adult's counterattack. He saw Harlyn dart closer, felt her teeth close around his scruff, then let out a yip of surprise when she pinned him to the ground with a throaty snarl. His little tail instinctively curled toward his belly, covering his exposed privates, and he squirmed. He wasn't so much frightened as bewildered. Whatever else was going on here, the game was definitely over. Harlyn didn't want to play. That much was clear.

When her grip loosened and she nudged him, Tambourine's tail stirred tentatively. He arched upward to place a kiss on her chin. Was he apologizing? Or granting forgiveness? Even the little boy didn't know, as the situation was quite a bit over his little head. Either way, he just wanted to make things right. He studiously ignored the lingering stench of blood even, as deep down, a tentative connection was made where the distinctions between id, ego and super-ego were still developing. He wouldn't acknowledge it consciously for some time but, all the same, Tambourine now understood on some level that imbibing on the flesh of his kind was forbidden.

Harlyn didn't know what was going through the pup's mind as she allowed him up again, but there was something comforting in the submissive lick he placed upon her chin. She reached down and placed her jaws on either side of his muzzle with a soft chuff before letting him go completely and stepping away. His actions were proof to her that he hadn't meant what he'd done in any malicious way. He wasn't twisted or depraved. Simply young and naive. It did not sit perfectly well with her of course, but it did put her more at ease.

She watched the boy thoughtfully for a moment, her eyes on the blood around his muzzle that was hers. It was a testament to the power of her matriarchal instincts that her thoughts now were only of how the pack would react to this. Harlyn didn't have the willpower to force herself to clean her own gore from the pup's jaws, but she did have an idea anyway.

"Tam," Harlyn said softly but sternly, grimacing at the pain that ached in her bruised body and mangled limb, "Your blood is on my face because you saw me fall and came to lick my wounds. That's all. You did not... You just tried to clean my wounds, like a good pup." She couldn't bring herself to say it, but there was no real need. He wouldn't be able to tell, and there was no reason to suspect that it hadn't been the wolverine that had torn her flesh from her ankle.

Somehow or other, he came to be seated upright, tail tapping gently on the ground as Harlyn regarded him. After a time, she spoke to him. He was still too young to keep up with every single word and its independent meaning but he was getting pretty good at getting the gist of things. He understood that he wasn't in trouble, if not the part where Harlyn would do her best to avoid permitting the pack from discovering the grisly truth of the matter.

"Tam! Goo' pup!" he readily agreed, sloppily licking the bloody jowls in question. He then cocked his head, floppy left ear twitching in particular, as something oh so slowly dawned on him. "Boo-boo?" he asked, his eyes clapping upon her busted leg, only now seeing it for what it was: not raw meat but a livid wound.

Hope you don't mind ~

She couldn't find him. Whoever had been watching her little boy while she had been out with Stark — whether it was Trick, or Grace, or even Captain — it didn't matter. He wasn't here. The Crook wasn't empty but when Octavia returned from her trip to meet Banner, as she marched her way through the dark and in to the hollow space where the pups had all been congregated, she had counted those wriggling bodies and seen that one wasn't where it was supposed to be. He wasn't here. How was it possible that her beloved Tambourine had gotten out? Octavia was in a panic within moments; she looked in every nook, every cranny, and grew persistently more furious with her terror, until finally she was vaulting herself out of the Crook with all the manners of a mental patient.

Tambourine?! She called out — looking at each face as she passed them, eyeing the adults, scrutinizing every inch of every  body for clues — her voice carried through the trees. TAMBOURINE? Has anyone seen him?! How incompetent were these wolves? Were they truly against her? This only fueled her sense of paranoia. The thought that someone had uprooted her baby boy and taken him away — it stung deep, burned in her blood and Octavia, filled with such a state of bizarre and intense rage, roamed messily across the terrain and between the trees until —

She could hear a voice, but it was distant. The words were slurred together. Not that they mattered, she cared little for who was talking or why, only that her son must be close. As she neared, Octavia heard the familiar whines and murmurs of Tambourine — then a thin breeze told her more. There was blood, at at that point Octavia snapped. She charged ahead and through the foliage, destroying everything in her path as she lunged for her baby boy, only to be met with the sight of Harlyn; the bloodied cliff above was noticed but hardly so. In her state of confusion and panic, Octavia's only reaction was more rage, and thus she slammed herself against the other woman, forcing her away from the little one without further consideration for the situation. Nothing mattered except for Tambourine.

Nothing.

hi i'm here to fuck up things; if i'm not welcome punt me out

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

The days bled together, the only marker in their passage was the return of growth to the rocky hillsides and ridges. Home, he found he had to supplicate into his thoughts, though it had yet to feel anything like that. Good company was found, able bodies united under roughly the same principles that they were to adhere to, but Mordecai hardly knew them. He had reached out here and there of course, gaining those acquaintances beyond just a face and a certain scent. Time would prove whether or not they would integrate together and retain the semblance of unity; he was inclined to be of a patient lot, as he was in no position to force it along.

Of course, whatever idyllic notions that may have been with him were scattered to the four winds when he heard the frantic calling of Tavi in the distance. The littlest of their group was so often attached to her heels that it came as a surprise, and he trailed after her voice to search. He had not entirely expected to stumble onto a scene going wrong, however. The acrid smell of blood spilled flooded his senses and his gaze—one-eyed and considerably narrow—caught sight of her stormy coat shoving Harlyn away.

Harlyn, who was bloodied. He did not think, not with logic.

Instead what came forward was his equally large frame to step over Harlyn, a snarl uncontrolled and roaring from deep in his throat. His voice was made to cut clear through the humid air, a warning wrapped tight. Whatever regard for rank he may have had was cast aside; his tail arched high over his thinned body and his scarred lips pulled back to frame his teeth.

Ditto to Ku

Steadfast in his silent treatment to the world, Pippin was never far from his family, nor had he portrayed any interest to the strangers of the Keep. The boy, now at five months and far more lanky than a cub his age should have been, was already stunted in his growth, and perhaps even development, as time would begin to tell.
 
It was not odd for him to stray after Harlyn or Mordecai, now that his father had returned. But never before had he come upon a situation like the one before him. The scent of blood was a tantalizing pull that erupted a far more feral beast than the simple quiet pup had been before. Closer inspection drew him toward the gathered group, and the chaos that erupted before him was almost impossible to pull apart.
 
In fact, it was impossible -- what the boy saw was his mother, battered, bloody, and completely broken, and the silver woman who was supposedly their friend, attacking her -- and her son's mouth covered in his mothers blood.
 
Why was their blood on the boy's mouth?
 
Mordecai was moving against the tyrant, standing over his mother in protection -- that was all Pippin saw now, and in turn, the tawny youth leapt forward with an instinct driven mind to combat this situation and defend his family -- if they had thought it keen to make Harlyn a meal, he would certainly repay the favor. He lunged to Tambourine, his jaws agape, though painfully inadequate with their inexperience. Yet he was aiming for the boys neck -- where he would indeed try to savage the little beast apart for what he had done.

whoops O_O

Harlyn smiled softly when Tambourine finally recognized her "boo-boo". He really was a sweet boy, and now that the initial shock of waking up to being eaten had passed and she had successfully talked herself down from her horror, she could appreciate his innocence. It was still eerie, and unsettling, to think of, but she pushed it forcefully from her mind where she hoped to bury the incident forever. It was a way of protecting herself, but also of protecting him. For how could even a mother not feel a bit disturbed by what their child had done? And she had no desire to affect the relationship between Tambourine and Tavi, not when the woman had done so much for her family.

Oh and speaking of Tavi.

Harlyn heard the approach only moments before impact. She'd barely had time to turn her head and spot the blur of gray before it collided into her, sending her reeling and slamming hard into the ground. Her entire body screamed in pain - a sound echoed by her voice as she cried out. For a moment, all went black as the agony grew too great for her to handle. But it was only a few seconds before her vision returned, and she reeled in horror at what the scene had become.

Mordecai was above her, standing protectively on guard against Tavi. For a moment, it was confusing, for why would she need to be protected from her co-alpha? But then her eyes went to Tambourine and his mother, and she saw in an instant what was happening. "No! Tavi, he's safe, it's alright!" she cried urgently, attempting to stand but finding herself unable due to the pain.

A flash of tawny gold shone out of the corner of Harlyn's eye as the situation spun further out of control. Her eyes widened to see Pippin bearing down on the young boy. Her voice caught in her throat in horror at the sight until desperately she cried to her mate, "Stop him! No, Pip, STOP HIM!!" Harlyn struggled again, but her limbs rejected her efforts and would not allow her to stand. So she crawled a few inches in a pathetic attempt at stopping her son from making a terrible mistake.

Tambourine wasn't familiar with the term bedlam but he was about to experience it firsthand. First, a furious Tavi came charging onto the scene, bowling into the already injured Harlyn. Seconds later, another figure appeared, someone the boy recognized as a newer arrival in the Keep. He came to stand over the downed Harlyn, his tail rigid over his hips as a savage snarl skinned his lips back from his teeth. By now, the pup's eyes had flown wide and he had leaned backward in the face of such unexpected mayhem. Then he gathered his wits and sprang in the direction of Tavi's legs, still more confused than frightened but definitely downright perplexed by this sudden whirlwind of wolves.

Only, it got even worse. Even as he made a bid for safety, Tambourine felt something hit his neck, sharp little pricks of agony sinking into the soft flesh. He gave a small cry, yet the pain only worsened as his attacker's grip tightened, the pressure squeezing the breath from the suddenly squirming tot.

This is a phone post.

Her goal realized, the woman shoved from the space around her son, Tavi would have stopped there had she the ability. Yet as her body stood tensed, defensive, filled with rage - something was lost. Some small amount of knowlege perhaps; the woman did not recognize Harlyn for a moment. In that brief second of mental sharpness, as something seemed to pierce through her, there came the rise of a second beast before her. A flash of teeth, a floating head, like in her many dreams - and something shorted in her brain.

Mordecai was not even an enemy to her; he was death incarnate, coming for her, and Tam, and the whole lot of them. His roaring brought a similar roar tearing out of her. Tavi lunged. Her teeth snapped in the face of death and with a grimace of her own, she warned the great force away.

Except that he did not move. And Harlyn,  Harlyn was screaming. Her words did not make sense in Octavia's slowly crumbling mind at first - but she hesitated long enough to feel movement beneath her. To remember why she was fighting. She relented; not by much, but perhaps enough. As her wide eyes and shark-toothed grin settled upon Tambourine, she saw the true threat. 

As Octavia changed her target she felt nothing. When she reached for this new assailant, her teeth grabbed for flesh, and somewhere in her mind she thought - all would be well again.

i am not awake whoops

Tavi rose to his challenge and for the tense moments thereafter it almost felt like a game of seeing who would outlast a posturing battle. If anything he intended for it to last as long as it had to, whether or not she came to her senses or it escalated was unknown. So for all the flashing teeth and thunderous snarls and growls, he did not move an inch. His eye did not lose sight of her, and the tunnel vision was great. But it always came at a cost and this time, that cost came in the form of something he would have never anticipated. When the silvery she-wolf began to relent, he did not see that it was because of her son drawing near. Instead all he heard was Harlyn screeching as Pippin closed in from his blindside altogether. And by then, a step or two out of reach of stopping it as soon as it started, he saw Tavi turn and reach out to strike.

It was reason enough to start forward and abandon his job of protection, reason enough that for a moment he felt powerless to get there in time. It forced him to change tactics as he set his sights on her. Much in the way she had moved to knock Harlyn away, he opted to try and muscle her away as she had his mate. Maybe if he could knock her aside, he could grab Pippin and end things. Or maybe it would only serve to make them worse.

His untested aim was true -- his teeth made target with flesh, and it was around the tinier whelp's neck. As the runt of the litter, and his own growth hindered greatly from the famine, Pippin was unable to lift the boy upward with any force -- his own gaunt form shook from the energy used now alone.
 
He did not hear the cries of his mother in the background, or the snarl of his new opponent as she lunged forward. All Pippin could hear was the thrum of blood in his ears from his heartbeat -- all he felt was a slice of victory at serving what he believed was justice for his mother.
 
Inexperience allowed for mistakes, though, and he did not see Tavi as she struck. No sooner did he make to clench his teeth upon his possession did the force of the strike cause Tambourine to pop out of his mouth like a child losing their favorite piece of gum. His paws could not find purchase upon the ground as the wind was knocked from him, and tumbling forward, Pippin's smaller form fell to the earth where his face promptly met dirt. He felt a sickening crack in his ribs as his chest his the floor, felt the jarring pain as he gasped for air.
 
His eyes widened, and making to push away from the ground and see what happened, his eyes widened as Tavi's gaping jaws came toward him unrelenting... there was no escape from this, and a snarl bubbled past his lips as his jaws sought purchase now upon her.

phone post. While on a ferry. And drinking. At 10am

Mordecai leaped at her instruction, or so she thought for the instant before she saw Tavi had changed direction and was launching herself at Pippin. Her instincts screamed in protective fury, but her ever logical mind remembered to fear for the ramifications of each action the passionate wolves around her took. Pippin was clearly most dear to her and when Harlyn finally pushed past the relentless protest of her injured form, it was for him that she dove. But still, part of her thoughts were to protect Tambourine as she'd decided to do earlier by keeping his cannibalism a secret. The stakes had clearly risen, but she was just as determined with only one thought in her mind: protect the children.

Harlyn could not do much due to the limitations of her injuries except continue to shout at them all to STOP! But still, with a burst of dateline - ehm ADRENALINE - she shot herself towards Pippin. Her intention was only to shield him from any continued onslaught from Tavi, whom she would not raise tooth or claw against. She trusted Mordecai to do that part if necessary, which it clearly was. But still, her soft heart was desperately hopeful that the physical violence would be ended somehow shortly and they could use their words to resolve this complete misunderstanding.

They weren't animals after all.

:smirk:

His struggling only seemed to make it worse. "Mu—!" little Tambourine tried to cry, properly frightened at last as his vision dimmed, the lack of oxygen causing him to slip into unconsciousness. Not long after his strangled shout, he fell from his aggressor's mouth and slumped, boneless, on the ground in the middle of the melee. Although he was free from the jaws of death, he was now in danger of being stomped to smithereens instead.

When the boy was driven off of Tambourine, and she was in some way satisfied, the creature which currently lived within Octavia's skin seemed to leer across the way at Pippin, watching him sink down with the snap of his bones; they were tempted to lunge again, to finish the job, but the interception of Mordecai's body sent Octavia's reeling. She braced against the ground as the physicality left her briefly upended; she stumbled, smacking down against the dirt, and scrambled to get back to her feet after that. It had been enough of a jolt to bring her back to some semblance of sanity — and then, seeking her son with a desperate glance across their little landscape of battle, she saw his crumpled body  laying limp among the new buds.

No— she gasped, —no, no, no— And without any regard for anyone who might've been in her way, big beastly man or tiny and crackle boy, or even the co-alpha who she thought had been an ally up to this point, Octavia thrust herself after him and hoarded his body close. This was like losing her first-born all over again; of being presented with something that could have been, and her mind began to muddy her memories of the newborn's body being eaten (by herself, no less) and the spectacle that was Tambourine's limp form before her. Filled with terror and remorse, Tavi's eyes began to prickle with tears until she was openly sobbing above her son. She probed at him with her nose, but with each touch she felt a new sob bubble up, and a new wave of tears to fog her vision. You killed him—you killed him, you fucking—

She couldn't talk, and only cried, curling herself around little Tambourine and holding on to the misconception that he was permanently removed from the mortal coil.

sorry for delay, stupid stressful busy week

The connect between their bodies wasn't anything too vicious. He wasn't striking to draw blood and if anything, bashing himself against her seemed just as effective as any other tactic that came to mind. It gave Mordecai the chance he desperately sought to be a wall for Pippin, and by then it was yet another extension to Harlyn as well. Her joining the fray from behind him was met with a swift swing of his head to check on them and just as swiftly he focused it back upon Tavi.

Except this go around, where he anticipated further resistance he was met with the remnants of her dazed perception. A perception that quickly settled for the limp form of her son between them. His solitary gaze lingered over Tambourine uneasily, as he could neither ascertain nor be certain of what outcome the pup was. There was no time to tell whether or not he was dead or alive, though if he were to put any weight into the words that started to bubble up and chase sobs out of the stormy-colored she-wolf, he wasn't among the living any longer.

And that only made him hold his ground more, a guard of stoicism rising up to cover whatever concern and confusion of how things would go from there. He had his own to worry after and quite suddenly, he wondered where Larkspur and Pippin Silas were.

His snapping jaws landed on air only -- the desperation of which he sought life and the madness that sought retribution had surpassed the blurred line of morals, and Pippin's only saving grace was the force with which his father used upon his attacker.
 
The atmosphere shifted in an instant, as if a snap of lightning had cleared the air, and Tavi shrunk to the ground, her body trembling from the emotion now. Her words fell upon stunned ears, and he felt the rage pull at him, his jaws opening and closing without sound for only a moment. Then, in that moment, he snarled, his ears defiantly falling back to his skull and Pippin spoke his first words since they ahd abandoned the Creek: "You tried to kill my mom!"
 
But even the youthful indignation could not fathom what it was he might have done, and his own form trembled now as he looked to the completely downfallen Tambourine -- completely unmoving now. It seemed so foolish in an instant, to believe that the tiny boy could have been in on Tavi's plot, and the wave of guilt that washed over him now was so overwhelming that Pippin could scarcely keep himself from crumbling under the weight of his actions.
 
His mind went blank, and with a surprising amount of energy, the golden youth fled the scene -- his paws thrummed the ground as he stumbled down the steep grounds, flying past the nature that was now only starting to grow back. He did not look back -- he was only keen on disappearing.

Harlyn stood over her son and turned to look at Tavi, anticipating another attack and steeling herself against it. But Tavi was not poised to attack, but instead she was cradling her own pup while tears streamed from her eyes. For a moment, the druid was still with shock. But as the seconds progressed, her emotions began to rise. Tambourine... dead? The thought sickened her. It couldn't be.

Before she could say a thing though, Pippin was shouting. Harlyn looked at him, abashed. It had been so long since she'd heard his son's voice, that she marveled at how different it was now from the one she remembered. Before she could respond, the boy was gone in a streak of gold across the Keep.

Fear lanced her at Pippin's sudden departure. She held his last expression in her mind as she turned back to Tavi. Harlyn slid to the back as the druid surfaced - the embodiment of her strength and her anger. Her lips peeled back from her fangs as her hackles and tail raised in dominance. It was with disgust that she looked upon her co-alpha now, even as she sobbed over her young son's limp form.

"You stupid fool," Harlyn snarled, "I was attacked by a wolverine and fell from the cliff. Your son licked my wounds. There was no need for any of this! The only danger he was ever in was because of YOU." More words bubbled in her throat, but she swayed weakly and they were lost. She sank into the ground as pain and nausea made her stomach roll. Her eyes shut tight for a moment and she leaned, searching for Mordecai for support. "Pippin.." she moaned softly, forcing her eyelids apart again to search off in the direction he'd gone worriedly.

Luckily, Tambourine did not get stomped to death. He was only unconscious for a moment or two before the noises above him roused him again. "Muh?" he said blearily, squinting up at the underside of Tavi's chin. He tried to sit up and felt dizzy. He ignored it, as well as the stinging and aching of his throat, as he blinked his wide blue eyes at the dramatic scene unfolding around him.

His head snapped to the side—much to the protest of the torn flesh on the side of his neck—when Pippin shouted and then fled. His eyes then skipped to Harlyn as the injured she-wolf sank to the ground with a broken moan. Usually so happy and carefree, the little boy frowned, then gazed up at his tearful mother.

"Tam goo' pup?" he repeated Harlyn's earlier words, unaware of just how much havoc he had wreaked today. "Mum?"

She couldn't hear anything properly at this point. Her emotions had clouded her mind, but something else seemed to block her ears. It was like being under water—there were things spoken, warning given, even a flash of teeth that made Tavi's body instinctively react with bristling, but aside from that she was cut off from the rest of them. The golden boy fled after some words, but that didn't matter. Harlyn sniped something at her, and while Tavi lifted her head and caught her slumped figure in her periphery, she did not turn her attention away from her son.

She was waiting. Mourning, maybe, but she resisted, because losing the only light in her life would surely spell her own doom, and the woman could not fathom it. Even with his limp body laying here, throat torn, breathing minimal—

Breathing. He was breathing.

Octavia nosed at him carefully, tender for the most part but rough once she realized that yes, Tambourine was breathing. Breathing meant not dead. And then as he roused himself, looking sleepily up at her, then frowning, Tavi gasped back a sob and buried her face against him, cupping him close with her forelimbs and covering Tambourine in a mess of tears and snot. Thank the powers, you're alive, you're... You're OK. And he was babbling back at her, although Tam's words were muffled a bit based on Octavia's positioning; but just hearing any sound coming out of him was enough. My boy, my little—you're OK.

Whatever had happened, whatever Harlyn thought of her now, Tavi did not care at all. She only knew that her son had been in danger and that someone needed to protect him — and if doing so had irreparably damaged her relationship with her co-alpha, so be it. This place was a death trap. She knew it now. All that mattered was the safety of her son, and this place—the Keep and all of its people—were no friends to them.

Pippin's outburst made him nearly flinch, the sound of the youth's voice after such a lengthy silence did more than surprise him. It was the collective anger that bubbled in its tones, one that Harlyn also seemed to pick up and cast herself. He heard the retreat of his son but did not look to see where he went, his eyes still locked on the form of Tavi with hackles raised. He felt torn, not at all for her but rather his own kin.

When he was certain that she was distracted by the rousing of Tambourine—a most thankful thing indeed—his own concern for his mate override the urge to watch her any longer. He turned back to her slumped form and began to rouse her with mute urgency. The sooner they could get away from this scene the better, or so he thought. Harlyn needed tending to and Pippin, well, Mordecai knew he would need tracking down.