Hibernation Point song
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Ooc — mercury
Warrior
Deerstalker
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#1
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set sometime around noon today. based on IC and BTS OOC conclusions

like a ruddy vulture or gothic gargoyle, Avicus perches atop a ledge, the near-unbearable weight of failure upon her shoulders.

dawn had broken upon the Hinterlands, with the Redtail wolves scattered through the strath. "search everywhere," she'd commanded, once the girl—identified by Masquerade—had fled. perhaps they'd take prisoners, or shed blood, or even kill one of the witch's acolytes.

but not Nyra.

Avicus stole away, following the scent trail of two wolves, leading away from the territory. she'd climbed, huffing from sickness and exertion, and had come upon a massacre.

the reek of a bear. white tufts of bloodied fur, wisping in the breeze.

she laughs without humor now as she stares at what's left of her greatest enemy, chest hurting with the sound. perhaps Astara, from the grave, had sent the bear. perhaps her mother had gotten her revenge, after all.

the laugh fades, though, and tears well up in its stead.

she's failed.

Avicus has long dreamed of the moment where she'd kill this woman who'd stolen everything from her. and for a fleeting instant, seeing that girl, hearing Masquerade's cry, it was possible even to substitute that glory. 

a daughter for a mother. wouldn't that make things equal?

but no.

the mothers both dead, scattered and splattered upon a mountain. the daughters—one gone, the other. . .

the red woman begins to weep bitterly, staring hard upon the bones of the woman she'd vowed to kill even as her vision blurs. she'd failed; the bear had struck first. she had vowed to be stronger than the bear, the spirit that had sent her father into such madness.

now what?

this has been her purpose for seasons.

and she could hunt the girl to the ends of the earth, but for what? the Dreadfather had indicated she'd vanished from the plateau inconceivably; what good would it do her to chase a ghost?

the doppelganger was as dead as her creator.

Avicus lays and hangs her chin over her paws, her body quaking with sobs. she's not quiet, and maybe the bear will come for her, too.

she's not sure if she cares.
but see, amid the mimic rout,
a crawling shape intrude —
a blood-red thing that writhes from out
the scenic solitude