Dragoncrest Cliffs Can't stop myself falling
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#1
Day in and day out, Ephraim remained tethered to the cove. Even if they would have allowed him out, which he hadn't tested, he stayed in the sands, allowing only enough food to sustain his body. He was determined that if he was to be kept here against his will, his packmates—former comrades, but now he thought of them with a cool, simmering rage—he would be too weak to be forced to fight for them again. Look where it got him last time. His family was enemies with his pack and he'd been made to pick a side that almost certainly meant he couldn't reconnect with those he lost. And his reward for wabting away from it all was imprisonment.

He wouldn't allow himself to be made a pawn in their war now, and so he starved himself and remained weak, biding his time quietly. Maybe he would never get away, but he wouldn't be used against his will. There was no evidence at all that Drageda used their natronas in that manner, but his twisted mentality allowed him to believe it.

As another chilly dawn began to break, with his muzzle thrust low over his bony forelimbs and his haggard eyes turned out to the ever-rolling sea, Ephraim kept on waiting for something to happen.

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#2
Tomorrow they would depart. He had made his requisite farewells--all but one. One he'd put off for quite some time, but could no longer avoid.

Verx made his way down to the beach, nodding to @Bobby standing sentinel before exiting the mouth of the cave. He chuffed to the small, lithe form on the sand, approaching at a slow, steady pace. He loomed over Ephraim, allowing the coywolf a moment to gather his thoughts and to recover, presumably, from the shock of seeing Vercingetorix's throat a mess.

You were right, he croaked, mouth pulled tight in a frown. As much as it pains me to say it, you were right about Rusalka. We should have gotten rid of them, but we didn't. Verx lifted his chin, exposing his neck further, wondering how much Ephraim knew. And so Aure and I are leaving tomorrow. His eyes were gimlet upon the young man as he fell silent again, waiting for the "told you so."
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Vercingetorix's arrival was a shock in and of itself, but seeing his throat laid bare made Ephraim's eyes widen and his fur stood on end in fright. He remained where he was, only tilting his head to regard the Cheka quietly. As badly as he wanted to ask what in blazes happened to him, Ephraim wasn't exactly keen on whatever lecture Verx had for him. Blixen's visit had been quite enough for him.

Ephraim knew nothing at all about what had happened between Vercingetorix and Caiaphas; no one saw fit to really keep him in the loop, since he was just Branwoda and being held against his will. So he was surprised that it was Rusalka who did this to Cheka, but also not as surprised as he ought to have been. He'd known something would happen again. These were marauding wolves who had sent one of their own up the cliffs to die so they could sneak into the territory while the resident pack was occupied. He didn't see what they'd done as an attempted rescue mission. He saw it as an attempt to weaken Drageda, and he couldn't for a second believe they wouldn't try again.

He desperately wanted to say "I told you so", wanted to parade his logic in front of Vercingetorix and ask what they were going to do now, but he was stopped by the man's announcement. Instead his lips turned downward, a harsh laugh bubbled to his lips and, glowering, he said, how very wonderful for you, because of course Vercingetorix was allowed to leave whenever he wanted to without being treated like a criminal, just like all the other born kru and blood relatives were.
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Okay, no, this was worse than "told you so." This wasn't even Ephraim offering some sort of olive branch; now he was just being a whiny little bitch. Actually, it really sucks, Verx replied, scoffing. You think I wanna fucking leave? You think I feel good about the position I'm in?

His brows drew together as he stared down at the coywolf. I came to say goodbye to you, the cheka (soon to be not-cheka) continued, his voice a little softer. I care about you, and I know you're going through some shit. And I will miss you.

Once again, he lapsed into silence. Myriad emotions flickered over his face, unable, at this moment, to be reined in.
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At least you get to leave, he growled from between his ankles, fixing Vercingetorix with a challenging glare. Vercingetorix no doubt felt torn and guilty about leaving the pack he was supposed to protect, and Ephraim didn't care one lick about it. The man got to leave, just like all the other Dragedans that had blood ties got to leave, while he was stuck here under Blixen's unfair fist. He realized he was making it about himself again, but he was too exhausted and frightened to feel bad about that. The truth was, without Verx around to guard the pack, Ephraim was certain that Rusalka would fall upon them and slaughter them all, and his paranoia shot to new highs at the thought.

The Cheka claimed to care and now Ephraim scoffed, rolling his head dismally away. If you ever cared for me, then free me from this place. I don't want to die here and should be free to choose my own fate, too. If ever you cared, Verx, please. It wounded him greatly to swallow down his own proclamations—he was going to miss Vercingetorix madly, and believed fully that the Cheka was the bulwark preventing Drageda's destruction at the hands of lesser wolves. Blixen was a fine leader but naive and prone to inaction. Dio... Ephraim hardly knew Dio. But Verx? Verx had always steered them right, he felt, and losing him was a huge blow. He would miss him, but he couldn't say it until he knew Verx spoke true.
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More sass, and then, oh, he begged to be let go, now. Had the coywolf been older, had he shown more of this proclivity toward ugliness, it would have been a hard no. Vercingetorix stared at Ephraim for a long moment, blinking slowly. It really was Blixen's call. But then. . .

Are you gonna lose your fucking mind again? he asked, raising a brow. Did you at least apologize to Blixen for what you did? I don't care whether you thought you were in the right or not; that was fucked up.

What Ephraim did next would make his decision. Verx firmed his jaw, eyes flickering toward Bobby as he waited for the young man to speak again.
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It was as Ephraim suspected. Vercingetorix didn't care about him so much as he cared about absolving himself before he left. Maybe the Cheka had even come down here to rub it in before he left. Based on Blodreina's attitude toward her mother, someone who helped to form Drageda and was still considered an outsider, and based on the perceived injustices leveled against him recently, Ephraim wouldn't be all that surprised.

So when the man saw fit to lecture and talk down to him instead of recognizing his all-consuming terror for what it was, Ephraim turned his face from him for the final time. I didn't mean to do it, was all he offered by way of explanation. He didn't feel he owed any further explanation to Verx, and he didn't feel he owed an apology to Blixen. That was what you got when you got between a scared wild animal and its freedom. He'd already put his life on the line for Drageda and they'd failed to protect their own; what more explanation did he need to provide for wanting to get out of here? He felt certain he was the next target for the Rusalkans... not because he felt important in any way, but because he shared their blood, which made him a blood traitor. By attacking the pack that saved his life they had betrayed him as well but it made no difference now who was right and who was wrong, and he didn't feel there was any point trying to explain it to Vercingetorix, because he already had, and it had fallen on deaf ears.

Goodbye, Verx, he said shortly as his pale eyes fell upon the waves once more.
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Well, he had his chance. No apology, no explanation--just a lame excuse. Verx felt sorry for the kid, he really did, but it wasn't enough. He'd done something beyond the pale, and the cheka couldn't just let it slide.

But Ephraim was crafty. He'd get out of this somehow, whether that meant bargaining with the Wormana or taking matters into his own paws. And Vercingetorix would miss him, always, and wonder what could have been if things hadn't gone so wrong, so quickly.

Leidon, Ephraim, he murmured, for they both knew they had reached an impasse. Take care, bro.

With one last glance toward the coywolf, he headed back toward Hougeda, giving Bobby a stilted nod before disappearing into the darkness.
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