Moonspear The future in my heart

Set directly after the bear thread.

Say tomorrow
I can't follow you there

Their trek up the mountain was slow, each step the valkyrie took heavier than the last, as if each drop of blood lost sealed another weight around her ankles. Fatigue pulled at her conscience, begging her to rest, to lay down and Sleep.

Just close your eyes
And sing for me

Perhaps it was best she remained so stubborn, walking alongside her sister in a silence laden with words that she knew not how to say, though not for lack of knowledge. It was this moment, Keres found, that she was most thankful for the unspoken language shared between them.

I will hear you
Always near you

Blood yet drying in silvered fur, peace settled within the woman's breast as they walked the same well-worn path as so many before them had. It was a familiar feeling, one she'd found on this same walkway, but also unlike anything she'd experienced to date. Everything she had worried about before, everything that ailed her, every ache and pain seemed to wash away in the din of her tranquility, an ethereal blanket of white noise enveloping her.

And I'll give you the words
Just sing for me

A whisper in her heart bid Keres look up with eyes still clear and evergreen, paws drawing to a halt. Hydra, She spoke, soft, tired. Gaze turning to Hydra, she met the woman's eyes, a small and knowing smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. Here is good.

she had stumbled back on stiffened legs. desdemona brought home to rest, and now, here, the guardian who had provided a vigil after the trader's death —

so much of it, so much that the duck had found no words yet for a spirit-song, a chant that might bear each of them away. and now more to come, her inner heart whispered, for she saw the line of keres' figure, saw the proud muzzle tipped to hydra, and blinked in the snowfall.

tears haunting the green-gaze that had only just dried. "keres," the only pair of syllables the duck could muster before she only reached for the valkyrie and silently begged for the wisdom to know a deep medicine, racking her brain for names and stores and muffled memories of herbs.

Hydra could not permit herself to think. To feel. The day had not yet ended, and the slaughtering was not yet done. As she pulled @RIP Desdemona upward, nearer to the stars and to where their family, those who had not fallen from grace or from great heights, would rest. Sisters, brothers—she could not dare to think daughters, sons. Too young, all of them. Much too young for death. With @Tehama and with @Antares Hydra carried the spidery waif.

But as her sister spoke, soft and quiet, Hydra realized she had slipped into the thoughts she hoped to never think. The loudness of her mind suddenly was brought to stillness as she let go of Desdemona and the weight of her. A moments pause as she called to @Dirge. She was suddenly aware of the absence of her shadow; there was a new and alarming nakedness she felt by this loss, and she could feel the tip of the blade again pressed against her as her gaze then fell to Keres. 

More blood. A sight she never minded from her enemies, but could not stomach from those dearest to her. For but a moment, Keres would have the chance to see the soft and loving heart of her that existed, the size of it known to none. But any who guessed at it would be incorrect in their estimate of how much she carried. Hateful though Hydra could be, the love she carried was ten times the size of that.

The crunch of snow caused Hydra to whip around and snarl, softness disappearing in a blink as though Keres' final breaths held the power of Medusas stare. Again Hydra was stone, remembering her role. Protector. And while she could not protect Keres from death, were this some other enemy Hydra would protect them, save them, save someone—

Kukutux. An exhale, and Hydra's edges seemed to smooth. But she did not soften again, and Hydra looked to Keres for one long and final movement. The look shared had already expressed all Hydra could not find her tongue capable of speaking. Her voice would break if she spoke. Perhaps she would, too. Hydra looked to Kukutux, drawing near. Bring her comfort, she breathed for her ear alone. Say the things that I cannot. 

She needed to return to the Glen. Find her sons, ensure all was well there with @Atlas and @RIP Osiris. 

And with that, Hydra moved to go... slowly, at first, in case Keres wished her to remain with her. Ears backturned, in case she had anything else to say.

No looking back when I am gone

So many things to say and yet none of them were given voice. They didn't need to be. Keres knew that she was leaving her sister in a lurch, and yet, she would still help, even now even in her death.

Death. The word was so final, so heavy. She had known it would come one day but now, before she got to see her girls again, before she had a chance to tell @Holland that she was sorry, that she had been reckless. He'd huff at her, surely tell her "I told you so" and yet now, she would never hear those words. Never hear him get frustrated. Never hear him talk about his plants. She would never get a chance to look for Moon Flowers with him, either.

Her heart ached suddenly, squeezing painfully as tears suddenly sprang to her eyes. The feeling surprised her, a simple blink sending the wetness down the planes of her face.

Follow your heart, it's never wrong

There was a warmth, something ethereal that pulled at her, that lifted her eyes to see the man she had once loved, still-loved smiling at her. Not yet. She wasn't ready, and he seemed to know this, remaining where he was, ever-silent, ever-patient.

No looking back when I am gone

Kukutux had arrived, the gentle press of the pale dove warm and reassuring, though it seemed her arrival seemed to pull Hydra away. Not yet. Wait, She said, her plea gentle but firm. Hydra was her sister, and it was with her that she wanted to remain. She didn't have long now, and though there was no spoken reason, Keres knew in her heart that the Queen would stay.

Don't second guess the note you're on

A glance to Antares, to Tehama, and a gentle nuzzle to the Medic's cheek as she stepped closer to the woman she had come to know and love in such a short amount of time. Silver fur mingled with black, an unsteady breath drawn in to inhale the scent of everyone she could not see before she ran out of time. Pressing close, Grey whispered words to the woman that meant so much, that said everything that she needed to say.

I love you.

All of you.

All of Hydra. All of Moonspear, of Firefly Glen. Holland. Dirge.

I love you.

He tried to face this with a grim numbness, but it was so overwhelming, so all-encompassing, that he knew it was nowhere near enough. Still, he was here to fill this role, and to help them pick up the pieces, though it didn't feel like enough either. It needed done, and here in the aftermath, at least it was something.

With his throat feeling tight, he helped them along, and bore the weight for those who could no longer. Between himself, his mother, and Tehama, they moved the procession of wounded and medic up the mountain until his sterling aunt voiced their stop. Antares listened carefully, keying in to his mother's response here, though there was a slow anxiety about the Glen behind them. And why couldn't he get the picture of that eagle winging off out of his head? Something bigger worried him, as if it needed to get any worse than this.

His heart ached for everyone here, but at the very least, they were all home now. He trusted they would situate Desdemona properly soon, not that he had the exacts of it. Both Kukutux and Jarilo had experience tending gravesites that he knew about.. likely, his parents and aunts too. But right now, Keres... she called his mother to her, and the dark yearling tipped forward his ears. Angry, sad, anxious--terrible.

don't gotta wait up for me in the post order <3 <3 <3 keres ;_;

hydra, turning away; keres, using the last of her strength to reach out toward those she loved. the duck, drew a great and shaking breath;

she did not yet know that death refused to depart the glen —

and put her muzzle against the warrior-woman's bloodstained fur with a sob. it was good that she had come home, had come to let her spirit walk beneath the shadow of the mountain. a terrible thing, so much death in so short a time. the snow-wife wondered in her grief if keres would go to join the shades that formed the backdrop of moonspear.

or if she would fly homeward to something like the dancing lights — kukutux held out the last of the tiny black seeds and set her tearful gaze deep upon that of the grey woman who had been guardian and sister.

On her quest to find the bear, Conquest returned to the mountains as she followed the path that Hydra and crew had carved. Blood stained the snow and though it didn't smell like Hydra, Conquest's pace quickened as she had to be certain. Was this what it felt like to have love for another? To feel more than some empty camaraderie with someone else for the sake of survival? Her heart thudded heavily in her chest, maddening as she could barely hear the crunching of her own feet against the snow as she charged up the mountain following the sickly trail of red. 

As the flame arrived, her eyes immediately fell on the shadowy woman. Scanning for wounds, for anything that may indicate that she was mortally wounded. Unfazed by the tension in the air and ignorant for the time being of the real imminent danger to a soon life to be lost. Cautiously she circled the guardian, the mountain queen, and if allowed to approach, would come to look even closer. Perhaps even press her forehead against the woman's dark shoulder in a silent sign of appreciation for her being well in the wake of the catastrophe. 

But who was bleeding? 

Once Hydra was secured as safe, it was now that her attention fell on the trail of blood once more, bringing her attention to the figure who was... well, just about to lose its grip on the world around them. They almost seemed at peace. The hardened gaze of the hellhound softened as much as a warrior could, a delicate frown carving across the darkened lips as she offered her own condolences to the woman who was barely hanging on. 

One more. One more to be taken away from mountain Queen - and that is what brought Conquest to understand the feeling of loss, as she sympathized with what Hydra may be feeling, her heart and chest felt unbearably heavy at the sight.

The request gave her pause, and Hydra stopped to turn and regard Keres. Would this be the last time Hydra ever saw the woman? Living, breathing? Such a stark difference, here and now, to their first meet. Keres had never before looked fragile to the matriarch even despite her months of traveling by herself. No, Hydra saw only promise there. Somehow, even now she saw it there. The promise of something. Their souls, connected through eternity. 

As Keres breathed her confessions, Hydra found it in her to meet the woman. Do not speak this way, Hydra commanded, voice thick with emotion, as though this is the last time we will ever see one another. Save your breath, sister, she hummed, I will see you again. The words were her own truth; Hydra saw her mother, her father, in dreams. She knew she would see Keres there too; if there was an afterlife, Keres would find it. Hydra pressed her forehead against her sister, thinking, hoping, look for me there. Keres would always know where to find the matriarch before then. 

The approach of another next; Kukutux first looked to as she saw, then, the small seeds meant to be an offering. Hydra knew Keres would not take to this way of passing, and pressed against her sister. And after, looking over her shoulder, Hydra saw Conquest there. Relief was apparent as she pressed against the girl, safe and sound and home; she thought of her other daughter, @Mira and fleetingly, @Mintaka.  Looking to Kukutux, Hydra hummed, the children. Tell them what is happening, and keep them safe from harm, Conquest had already been exposed to it, and so Hydra had in mind for her one of lifes more awful lessons. Again it sprung to mind, and now it lingered. Were Mira here, Hydra would have her observe this terrible lesson of life and love. 

Hydra would be teacher, then, to Conquest. Being a Queen was not solely about the decorations that came with it; it was the bloodshed they would see. The comrades they might yet outlive. Hydra gestured to her side, and spoke to Keres and Conquest both. A seed is nowhere near swift enough now, and I will not see you suffer. Tell me you are ready, sister, she drawled, and then looked to Conquest, and Conquest and I shall see you safely through to your next journey. The telling of this would be terrible; how was it that these were the deeds others sang of when speaking of legends? 

Hydra would immortalize Keres in a different light. Her gaze turned back to her sister now; she would not turn nor look away this time. I am here. She always would be.