Silvertip Mountain BLACK FEATHERS

set after this thread <3 @Aventus @Avicus @Apophis @Asperas @Surya @Arielle @Ashlar @Buzzard @Taggerung

merrick saw astara arranged beneath the scarlet winding, with flowers from the sunfield caught in the blood-matted fur. beside her, the holy pelvic bone she had always carried from each of their homes, nudged lovingly where it might rest eternal as well beside the welcoming decay of his blackbird's body;
he gazed at what remained of her beneath rent flesh and gleaming bone;
merrick stood stiffly staring at her until his breath galloped and at last he forced into the air a horrible and clawing howl for the wolves of ursus at once to stand and witness what had been done.
his cry also for the lost girl and the boy who had run away in merrick's preturnaturally focus elsewhere;
merrick freed the captive with a word. the prisoner called keme was warned away, warned of ursus' willingness to take back this mercy.
when as many of the bearwolves had come as would arrive, their witch stared dour and unseeing upon each face, tilting his muzzle with its ridges of scar-laced flesh toward the crumpled mound of torn fur only half recognizable as wolf.
"the saints of the dying lights have killed your queen. my wife. the mother to my children."
merrick drew a breath and placed an inner hand upon the humming zeal of the serpent rising until it felt his skull might split with its expanding scales.
"i mean to have blood for her. ursus must go. she must be avenged. and yet i will not demand that you come with me. i will go alone, if i must. if you wish to take our name," merrick went on, glancing between all of them, "and go elsewhere, i will not stop you. the saints are many, and they are powerful. if you come with me, do not expect to return."
the single eye burned, singeing the air with a melodic and crazed power;
three tears, falling softly as his jawline tensed, but the voice next was the splintering tones of a devil crawling from merrick's skin;
"and if you accompany me, prepare to kill."
the lacerated face with its old wounds transformed into a rictus.
"their young ones. their old ones. the sick ones. the mothers. ursus has no mercy. ursus has no charity."
night had swept over ursus by now; it blued the air and set merrick into a cherrywood darkness that shimmered in a mirage of hatred. "a canyon of red sand was where i last knew them to be."
"i leave at dawn." his remaining eye rested upon aventus and avicus in turn. 
merrick meant to hear nothing more. he turned his back upon the assemblage and bent his head over the ragged pelt of his corvid ruler in a fel and charcoal silhouette.
a vigil.
the last before merrick departed ursus a final time.

She had been waiting nervously for the family's return. She had known something bad was going on but the only instructions she had been given were to stay home and protect Ursus—the command from Aves' lips having no less effect on her than if they had come from the bear king himself. So she had stayed behind, watched the three forms disappear, and then stuck to the borders. She prowled along the mountain on high alert, her senses tuned in to every sight, scent, and sound. 

But there had been no trouble, and the first sound that had stopped her pacing was the call from Merrick. The sound made dread pool in her stomach; she knew there would be nothing good waiting for the pack when they gathered.

Her feet started moving before she had really even processed her decision to answer, as if her body already knew she would make no other choice than to meet whatever this was head on. 

She was silent as she arrived, her expression a mixture of horror and despair as her gaze moved over the tattered body of the shadow's wife. She was shreds of flesh and bone, any hair she could see sticky with dried blood. It was a horrific. Her throat was dry and her heart was racing in her chest. 

Finally, her eyes slid up to where Merrick faced them, his cold, angry gaze making her breath stick in the back of her throat. There was no time for questions because as soon as they had gathered, he began to speak. His tone was just as cold and angry as his gaze. The bear king told them who was responsible for taking something invaluable from Ursus. The Saints of the Dying Light. 

They would seek revenge at first light, and he had given them the choice of joining him or leaving—dying or living. Of course her decision was already made; she didn't need time to think about what it would mean, and she didn't have any questions for him. She would join him, and if it was her destiny, she would die. 

Arielle watched as Merrick turned from them, his body sagging over Astara's shredded form. Sadness swelled in her chest until it moved up her throat and spilled from her jaws in a mournful howl.

every muscle aches from carrying her mother's body across the plains, but it's nothing compared to the crushing vise of grief that grips her at each moment. her chest tight, her stomach empty—it's as if some giant creature has torn her open, scooped out all her insides and left her hollow.

her prized skeletal possession and matted, awful appearance are at odds with the beauty of the woman's resting place.

she cannot take her eyes off of Astara, even as Merrick speaks.

of course. it's the only thing to do. her father's words are less a call to war and more an echo of what is already in her own heart. she will not let this pass; she cannot let this pass. 

she ought to continue her quest to find Karst. ought to inform Erzulie and Rosalyn of current events.

but this eclipses all other concerns.

Avicus nods as Merrick's voice fades away, as he turns to sit and mourn over his wife. her gaze, the twin of her mother's, stares straight ahead, cold and dry.

so empty, so broken, that not even tears will fall.

only Nyra's blood will make her whole again.

He doesn't know what to do. Hanging back from the body of the queen, Ashlar turns the words over and over in quiet shock.

Blood. Do not expect to return.. He wanted to kill all of them. Even their children. No mercy. Horrified tears began to form in the bard's eyes, but for a moment, he did wrestle with it.

Avicus would go. He was sure of it. She was fierce, just like her family, and that was her mother. His heart broke for her. He tried to imagine if it was his mother, but he couldn't. His family did not belong in a place like this, a place of blood and hatred. She was one of his only friends... but she would go.

Ashlar sought out Surya. Would he fight? There was some desperation to it, a need to know if he was alone. He did not understand Ursus. He had not understood Moonglow.

Was he wrong? Was the world nothing but wolves who wanted to bring hurt?

Aventus stood a silent shadow to his father's furious flame, his gaze fixed on his mother's remains as firmly as his sister's. At least until Merrick invited them to take the name of Ursus and flee elsewhere. Perhaps Merrick was okay with that, but Aventus was not. If it was up to him, this fight would be mandated. No more could they run like frightened little sheep from the Saints.

Not that they ever had, but backing down was not even an option to him.

Automatically, his eyes went to Ashlar. Aventus had never thought much of the other wolf, and he would be surprised if the bard agreed to come at all. Aventus was sure he would take this opportunity to flee. The Bruin-jaw's silver eyes glinted like bared steel. Run away, little bard, he thought, keeping careful control over his expression lest he lift his lip and snarl. His fixed gaze was a promise as much as it was a question. Run away, but take the name of Ursus with you, and I will take it back from you by force when this is all over. He had no doubt that every other member of Ursus would choose to fight. For him, there was no question. He meant not only to fight, but to win and get his revenge twice over by bringing Nyra's head home as a trophy.

He only tore his stare away from the chocolate-furred bard when Merrick concluded the meeting and stooped over Astara's body. Aventus would remain nearby, as well. He was not willing to invite misdirected violence from his father by getting too close, but he hunched in the near shadows to keep watch over his mother's remains from a short distance, and to ward off any who thought to approach their king right now.

he had heard the anguished cry some hours before, but had arrived too late upon the scene; they had gone to the plains by then. but now, he received merrick's summons with stiff shoulders and a lump in his throat. when he spotted the gathered wolves, and then the body of his leader's mate, his stomach plummeted.

the words floated in, one by one, though he could only grasp a few at a time for how shocked he was. saints. avenged. kill.

it seemed they were going to war.

not knowing that the singer was looking for him as well, surya found ashlar in the crowd and sidled up beside the dark young man, a worried frown upon his maw. my god, he said, his voice low and hollow. they tore her apart.

it had been a fight. astara was ripped to shreds, black pelt in tatters, the lank still form so at odds with the dynamic movements he'd witnessed from the shadow in life. he swallowed, thickly. whoever had done this should pay.

beyond everything—beyond even the prisoner—this was surya's greatest test.