Bearclaw Valley ghost of a monster child

oh. there is something beautiful about the way the one-eyed man splits open the other wolf, the way blood leaves the throat in a torrent. so powerful, even from a slight distance, she feels the still-warm spatter upon her face. droplets on her nose, the tips of her ears, her chest. she is loath to clean herself.

"my children! ursus loves you." Avicus stares at Merrick. he is filled with an emotion she's never seen from him—or anyone, for that matter. she is mesmerized.

and then her eyes move to the body, which is moving, but not as much. twitching, trembling. the fearful light that once dwelled within that gaze is dying out, replaced by something cold. dead. just as she has crushed worms and beetles beneath her paws, the one-eyed man has stolen life, too. though this life is larger, greater.

how can she learn this power?

still a little apprehensive, the crimson-painted firebrand approaches the corpse. she presses her muzzle into the gaping wound, the flow now slowing to a pungent ooze. her tongue leaves her mouth and she tastes; it's much like the slurry, much like—

blood, Avicus remarks, and stares at her father with an expression bordering on gratitude. he continues to feed them, to provide for them, and for that, she is grateful.