Silvertip Mountain sometimes it makes me wonder why i even bring the thunder
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All Welcome 
set to evening of the 17th

WHERE'S MY SON?!

It was a wonder how Verx even managed the holler, as much as he'd yelled the past two days. It rang out hoarse and sharp, a far cry from its normal rumbling power, but still carried well enough. And there was no denying the fury in it.

He was close. Dragomir's scent was growing stronger, as were those of whoever had taken him. (Or had he gone by choice? Vercingetorix wasn't taking a chance.)

Come out, come out, fuckers! he called out, his tone a nasty mimicry of old nursery rhymes.

Verx was prepared to die for his boy, here on this mountain. As he continued to ascend, the thunder began to roll, and the wind rose along with his untethered rage.
Common · Trigedasleng
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repost / edit, sorry y’all

By means of natal mahtanë fashion, the silver had engrossed the remainder of their awaiting by priming as many places of her hide that she could reach. It wasn’t apparent, not at first, when she strode — no, stormed— her return to Vercingetorix’s side, but for all the world she looked just as warriorsome as he’d said, once upon an eve; moonstone pelt, groomed to a gleam; crown held high despite her shorn face.

She’d been right to think of him as Stormborn, so many moons ago; so now, in this moment, what was she?

Her eartips quivered as Verx beckoned these demons to come dance: ‘Demons tend to scatter, once enough seraphim arrive,’ she’d once said, and the she-wolf spared a look over a pale shoulder for @Sanguinus and whomever @Evergreen had blessed them with for this night. Her own rage was a slumberous, albeit restless beast; but with each print closer to Silvertip, it began to rumble awake from its repose.

Her voice was sonorous, low, as she gave her report: “No sights or scents of pursuers.” A little sniff, before her lilting timbre descending into a deep, rasping croon, “We should be good to give them all hell, phayanāro,” and only the new endearment to sweeten that ruthless, boding intent.

There was a lull in her, like tranquility before tempest, as her memory followed right up the knolls and landed with a thud! on that mountain. As much as she wished to follow, to fight by his side... the silver turned, musing, “I will stay with our daughter. And she will stay with me.” Until Isilmë’s brother was returned to them  (heavens help them, he would!)  she was all they had left. Their precious, vicious shrike of a daughter.

And her mother of a dragon would take fangs through her own heart before anyone dared take her from them.
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I can edit this if any info is wrong, the recruitment thread isn't done yet but I dont wanna hold ya up!

Ira stood behind the bellowing guardian, silently waiting and unflinching to the harsh cries. She had been called so suddenly and what threats lurked were still more than a mystery for the roan constable. However, all that mattered now was saving the boy.

Her golden gaze drifted to the white battle-torn woman. She was the one Vonnaruil had once spoken about in hopes of an alliance and the one Evergreen had fought for on the mountain top. Aure turned meeting her eye briefly before addressing the male, announcing what knowledge she had and her plans to stay with her kid. What are my orders once we cross those you seek?

This was not her mission, she was simply extra muscle. However, that meant she had to know how far these two wanted to go for the sake of their son, be it drawing blood, chase...or death.
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The pair of them had made a swift return to the troubled parents, barley arriving in time to catch the yin and yang duo closing in on the assumed assailants. He let out a chuff as he drew next to Aure, nose brushing gently against her shoulder in an affectionate attempt to settle any worries she might have. "We'll get him back" he whispered in a reassuring tone, his single good eye filled with determination and drive to return the youth back to his parents side.

After a quick glance towards Ira, Sanguinus turned to face the spirited father, ears upright and ready for his instructions. He was a morally just man and was not one to injure or take a life easily but, for the sake of his friend and her child, he would break whatever values he held onto to ensure Dragomir's saftey.
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He hadn't even wanted Aure to come along, much less the small army of wolves she'd brought with her. This was his own problem to mitigate, and besides, she should be watching Isi, right? He'd begrudgingly gave into the others coming, forging ahead with a stormy expression on his face. With Dragomir missing, they were the least of his concerns.

Her words cut through him like a knife, and Verx turned like a viper, bicolored eyes flashing as he fixed them on her. Then stay, he hissed, rage misplaced, unable to be quelled. I'll take care of this.

With giant steps, he continued up the slope, an expletive accompanying each moment Drago was not with him. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. The scents grew stronger, fresher; there was an undertone of fear to it all and it filled him with anger hot and bright as lightning. Someone had taken his son. Dragomir wouldn't just leave.

Right?!

Give my boy back unharmed, or I swear to god, I'll rip you all a-fucking-part, he called out, chin lifted in challenge.

tagging @Merrick & @Astara for visibility
Common · Trigedasleng
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since this is a more intense(?) thread feel free to skip until / unless tagged! <3 fam has pp permission of momma til then

The mother let dragostea spit fire at her ivory guise, and only conceded with a gentle tilt of her head and blink of her eyes; which gleamed with faith that he would handle it, that he would bring their son back to them. As beloved whirled from her, Aurëwen turned to her daughter, “Come. There is a secure nook for us, my star. Better to see ze happening with, too.”

To Sanguinus, to Ira, “I would like for you to be posted near here, and to intercept them, should ze takers come your way.” Her still-seeing eye trailed back to where Verx strode mightily, the heaviness in his step more than enough to make up for the remnant hiss of his voice. “If things go more amiss than they already have,” white throat constricting, “save our son.”

Turning from them before the thought could finish itself, the silver hind swept up her shrikeful daughter, and hastily awayed to a place more secure and observant.
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Ira took the instructions silently. She was thankful she was not asked to kill someone for their cause, she never had to before and she didn't really plan on starting now. Not for strangers. The only reason she involved herself in this affair was due to Evergreen's request and a child at stake. She would stand her guard until told otherwise.
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Quick icky phone post before my flight

The rage, the anxiety, and the overwhelming layers of emotion were all expected. The way the raven man snapped at Aure was not.

The fur along the sable champion's nape bristled in disapproval at the unnecessary comments. Perhaps at a different time in a different place he would have stuck his own opinion out there but, that mattered little now. So with a swift nod at his instructions and the final command to save the pair's son, Sanguinus briefly took after Verx before pulling away to position himself to intercept anyone that came his way.
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Everything irked him. Nothing would satisfy him until he had Dragomir back within his embrace again. With all his faults, all his fuck-ups, it was more than likely his son would shirk his love -- but goddamn it, he had to give it. He had no choice but to give it. It spilled from him with every breath, every panting, desperate sob up the mountain.

Verx reached the place where the scents had grown strongest, a glittering cave carved into the mountainside. Dragomir? he called out, more a question than anything else. His stomach twisted. There was blood here, various tufts of hair. Dark hair. He sniffed at one of these tufts and recoiled; his son's scent stung his nostrils, sudden and poignant. There were smears, leading. . .every which way. . .

Fuck.

Dragomir! he called out, voice echoing around the cavern. His two-toned eyes darted to and fro, searching, pleading -- god, where was he?! He put his nose low, like a huge, hulking black bloodhound, drawing in deep breaths. Breaths that led him outside once more, to the edge. To the edge, and down --

Where, down down down the slope, he saw something small and something quite broken, lying still.

There was no hesitation. Vercingetorix scrabbled down the slope, all breath stolen entirely now. His pulse pounded like the beating of war drums; his chest was tight, burning, screaming. Please god no no fuck please no please no no no no please no --

But even his pleas couldn't change the past, and as he came to a halt beside the mangled, bloodied body of his son, he let loose the roaring scream of a man whose heart had been ripped from his chest: still beating, but no longer whole.

The rain fell.

permission given to find @Dragomir unconscious
Common · Trigedasleng
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Admist the abysmal lulls that Aurëwen had taken watch for their daughter, it was the ruinous thunder of her love that had her soaring from their hideaway, their precious star at her hocks; eventually flitting by the mauve and scarlet posts with a white-limned look of Stay.

And when she arrived, Isilmë at her side—
Oh. Oh.

The beast within her from before went rigid, though, as the red tang of blood came with that scenting, and as natfaya roared so did she; her soul dropping in the pressure of a mother’s wrath; it all metamorphosed into a guttural heart-keen of Nakuvan tye!” into the evendim; her red face melded into a howling, fearsome masque of tempestuous fury.

All her study, all her greenseeing was now washed from her by the rain from the gloaming heavens. She would never forgive ever again ever—

What was left in its wake was a she-wolf now utterly sworn to the bloodletting of those who had done this to her baby her child her son their son their boy and she would heal him and he must breathe he must breathe he must live his heart must beat and she was kneeling and wailing lungs stuttering kissing his head his ruined cheek

and there was agony agony agony as Aurëwen choked on her own tears unending in Anarinya.”
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She had one task, to stand put and play guard should the attackers come her way. But as she waited, nothing came but the wails of a broken family. It wasn't the fury or meeting the ones they sought out, the ones they wished to steal the breath from. It was the sounds of sorrow, hatred, and possibly mourning.

Ira abandoned her duties, quick to follow the cries and see the scene for herself. Careful to stay away from the parents as the scene unfolded, the small broken bundle was clear, even from her place atop the cliff. Whatever happened here, there was not much time, if any to save what had been shattered. Does he breathe? Should there be a chance, she knew she must offer her assistance.

She could never leave a child in this state to give up on life. My pack has healers. Several at that and a well-stocked garden they had been working on should a situation arise. It seemed their preparation, might finally come in handy.
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above all, she is tired. first, she'd thought her brother had left of his own accord, as he had when they'd been alone with the stranger. that knowledge had dragged her to new uncertainty and a sudden, paralyzing sense of helplessness. anger, too, but she felt that so often and so constantly it didn't feel new. and then the knowledge that someone had taken him, and the emotions she felt twisted and redirected themselves. this much uncertainty and instability coupled with her youth and impressionability made her thorny, wary, exhausted and totally unwilling to let herself rest. 

and so when her mother ran she was at her heels, forgetting her brooding isolation and moving beside her. and there was Drago, limit and cut up like the prey Verx would bring back in the early days, except this was her brother. she stood rigid, unwilling to near him entirely, for suddenly he seemed fragile and liable to melt away should she come too close. her chest was tight and the air was heavy, oppressive, and she said his name but it came out a ragged scream. in the flurry of emotion that came she settled on the most familiar one, and let it fill her before realizing she had no outlet for the blind fury that filled her. and so she stood, trembling, entirely stiff and bristling with vacant stare set on her brother.
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i'm probably too tipsy for serious posts but last post from me!

There was nothing more to be said, only done. The woman from Kaistleoki -- Ira? -- suggested that they bring him there (implicitly, anyway, by her mention of healers?), which seemed the only logical option, given the dire situation. He turned to her and nodded, his eyes blank, hollow, suddenly devoid of all emotion but grief. Deep-seated, ice-cold grief.

We'll take him there, then, he rasped, barely able to draw a breath as he turned back to look at his son. And then her question registered and he realized, oh fuck they hadn't even checked to see if he was breathing oh fuck --

He hunkered down and checked, listened, felt, all of what he knew. . .and that was very little. Fuck! He wish he knew more. Perhaps that was the ghost of a breath? The barest thrum of a pulse? But he couldn't be sure, and he turned his desperate, drawn face to Aure, hoping she'd know more. God, she'd have to know more.

I think he might be alive, still? Verx tried, the words half-sticking in his mangled throat. If he is, uh. . .yeah. Kaistleoki. We'll go there.

Before it was too late -- but wasn't it already too late? Alive or dead, Drago had been hurt, and it would never be erased.

Still. . .there was a chance to salvage whatever son they had left.

The clock ticked.
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last.

’Does he breathe?’

As Vercingetorix bent to check to affirm, the silver wanted to turn upon the mauve woman and wail and spit in a mother’s frantic hysterics — but then her beloved rose once more, and turned to her with such a silver-hot anguish that it richocheted from the seat of his eyes and returned into her own.

She said nothing; not at he spoke, and it was her turn to dive, to hover with care over their broken son. With featherlight paws and the faintest of touches, she so-gently canted Dragomir’s skull back to affirm this for herself — felt the relaxed muscles of his throat, his figure, as she carefully inspected to see that his tongue wasn’t blocking the airway. As his father had, the herbalist too felt a flutter of breath upon her cheek, the ebb of a pulse... 

“He breathes,” Aure muttered, coming back to stand once more. And he is broken in more places that I can see, can count.
The shame, the loathing, the self-blame — it would all come later.
But for now she much favored dragă’s sentiment towards Ira’s suggestion.

Where her heart stopped beating that day, bleeding as it always had, the clock could only tick and the rain could only fall.
If he breathes, then he will live.
He must.