Not long after the trembling finally subsided, did Bloodhound let their guard down, did they allow themself to rest. They had built a small cairn of stones, outside the house where the collie they'd attempted to save, had breathed her last. They knew not her name, but they knew she had shown courage. A life spent bravely was one to honor, and to look towards, for example. They would honor those that had risen.

Unlike in the Games, unlike humans, these animals had no weapon to lay upon their breast. No boats to burn and send off into the horizon.

They hoped, that they would see her again. That they would know her name.

Bloodhound had found themself back at home, chin propped up onto the highest windowsill, looking out over the horizon, the setting sun. They had been fortunate, their home had been spared. There were plenty of homes that still stood, thankfully. Not all was lost.

But yet.

They had lost so many. They had seen the loss on the children's faces. Had felt the shuddering sobs that swept through the pack when the news broke. Death was nothing to be feared, this they knew, learned from the ring, from feeling it clutch at them and render them bare and bloody. It was often merciful. But it still left one raw, and scarred. They had mourned silently, for the children who had lost their mother. For those that had lost a friend, someone they had loved.

Their raven friend was nowhere to be found, as of yet. They hoped that it would return to them soon. They had lost track of it, between digging the collie out of the rubble, between the coughing fits and the gasping breaths that wracked their system afterwards.

Bloodhound had returned home silently, alone. Their head did not hang, but the onset of dusk weighed heavily in their chest.


They had begun to drift off for the night, as their ears picked up on fluttering wings. The sound familiar, from a life they no longer lived. They opened their eyes, just in time for their raven friend to land on their head, cawing loudly. It flapped its wings, pecking at their mask, the glass of their eyeholes, tugging at their ears.

They were moments from telling the bird to settle down, from shushing it, before they picked up on another caw. Further away. Weaker. They slowly stood, then, looking out and around, hoping to spot the other bird.

Something was wrong. They could feel it, in how frantic the bird on top of them acted, ruffling feathers and cawing. Restless. Bloodhound made their way out of their home, looking out into the encroaching night. They followed the weak cries, as their raven took off in that same direction, leading them.

Not far from their home, just under a tree, a branch had fallen. A crow was pinned beneath it by its wing. It panicked as they drew closer, as they removed the offending branch. It fluttered to its feet, attempting to fly away. One of it's wings was horribly bent, very much broken. Near mangled. It would be a wonder if it even healed. It cawed loudly as they reached a paw closer to it, trying to pat it on it's head while they addressed the damage. It retaliated, pecking and biting at their paw pads fiercely. Fearfully.

"Hush now, dear Felagí. You do not need to fight anymore." They speak softly, continuing to try and pet it, to assuage its fears. Their companion lands next to the both of them, and the injured bird seems to relax, some.

Bloodhound begins to remove their cowl, pulling it up over their head with a little difficulty. They try to wrap the bird within it, keeping it safe and secure on the trip home. They use their paw, to dislodge their mask, so they can use their jaws to pick up the crow. It caws pitifully, but was thankfully restrained.

The worst thing about being in a new place, was that they didn't know where anyone lived. The only Doctor they knew here was Caustic, but they didn't know where he lived, either. Or if he would be able to help the poor creature. In any other circumstance, perhaps Bloodhound would have just put the thing out of its misery. But the little creature showed a great will to survive, admirable and strong. It deserved a fighting chance.

Loss was a feeling that Aurum had come to be well acquainted with, despite the fact that he had never wanted to be. He had thought, once, that his relationship with the terrible depression and grief that came along with death would start and end with the loss of his father. Although their relationship had been strained for most of his life, he had loved the "king" of the pride, and had felt his absence for many months after his natural passing. However, the angel had been wrong in thinking that would be the last time he would deal with the horrible pain of destruction and the death it wrought. His mother, horrible as she was, was the next for him to lose, leaving him traumatized and off balance for weeks, if not months. Many more deaths had come after that, both the result of natural causes and the cruel influence of the Pitt, acting as the hands of fate. He could still remember when Indie had emerged from the bunker beneath the library, speaking of how Miko had finally passed away. He could remember how the air had been stolen from his lungs, despite the fact that their relationship hadn't been particularly close. He had still lost a friend, and a fellow Tangler. However, he didn't think that any of those old pains could compare to the agony that he was feeling now. The sheer misery that had gripped his every muscle ever since Feza had passed away. She had been one of his closest and oldest friends, torn from him as if she had never even really been there. It had felt as though someone was crushing his air pipe when he had discovered her, trying to make him join her in the afterlife. He had thought certainly it couldn't get any worse than that, right? No more death could come and pull the rug out from beneath him, right?

The meteor had been a surprise to everyone, that was for sure. The sky had been so calm and open, and the wind had felt pleasant in his mane, comforting and cool. The flash of light tearing through the sky had come so suddenly, and then chaos had taken over the swamp dwelling group. Yelling, and running around, and desperately trying to make sure others were safe. He had tried his best to help everyone he could, but in the end, he hadn't been able to help her. He hadn't been able to help the sister that he had loved for so long. The family that he had clung to that had stayed by his side this entire time. He hadn't gotten there in time, and she had suffered for it. Perhaps if he had just been a little faster, or perhaps if he had gotten up from the porch a moment sooner. Those thoughts often led to a downward spiral of guilty and grief, tears sliding slowly down the lion's face until he eventually felt his son pressing gently against his side, reassuringly. It was difficult for him not to blame himself, but he knew Moth wouldn't have wanted that. She would've wanted him to keep moving forward, and not let her death pull him down to those dark depths that he couldn't return from again. He wasn't strong enough to face the process once again. However, that didn't make it any less hard. Any easier to find the happiness in their current situation.

The male coped with his grief as he usually did – working through it. He knew that he had been warned away from doing so in the past, considering his unpleasant habit of working himself to death in an effort to get away from unpleasant thoughts. However, he knew that he needed to do something, and there was thankfully a lot to do in a group that had just been hit by horrible tremors. Although Aurum had been lucky enough to have his house spared from the destruction, that didn't mean that others were the same, and the proxy was happy to help, considering his large size and impressive strength. Plus, seeing people with smiles on their faces after everything that had happened... it was nearly enough to stop the ever present ache in his heart from choking him all day. Needless to say, however, this process meant that he was away from his own home a great deal. He usually only returned after a hard day of work, and that was only to say goodnight to his children and collapse into bed. He couldn't quite remember what manner of work had drawn him towards Bloodhound's home that day, but the angel certainly found himself intrigued when he heard frantic cawing in the distance, the type designed to attract attention. He didn't want to intrude, but he also didn't want to ignore it, just in case someone was hurt.

A frown curling loosely along his muzzle, the lion made his way over to where Bloodhound was, pausing when he saw the other with their mask awkwardly shoved up so that they could carry something. Picking up the pace of his footsteps a little bit, Aurum found his eyes widening when he same the little crow bundle that Bloodhound had with them. Keeping up with their stride, the male questioned softly after a casual greeting, "Hello there, Bloodhound. Sorry if I'm being a bother, I heard the cawing and I got a little concerned that something was wrong... is your little friend there alright?" Aurum himself unfortunately didn't know very much about bandaging up other animals, especially when it came to small ones. Perhaps Selby could help out, but the proxy really wasn't sure how much of a state Selby was in to be helping anyone for the moment.

[div style="text-align: right; text-transform: uppercase; text-shadow: 0px 0px 2px #1B1B2F; font-size: 24px;"][color=#44437F]— AURUM

The bird in the bundle was mostly quiet now, making only an occasional surprised caw if Bloodhound moved too quickly. They were glad, to have wrapped it up safe enough that its wing was in less pain. They hear someone large come up behind them, turning their head to see Aurum, trotting to catch up. They slow down and stop, lifting a leg and cradling the crow bundle in the crook of their wrist. It would be easier to speak perhaps, like this.

They bow their head at Aurum's greeting, and notice Caustic's approach, how he shields his eyes with his paw so that he isn't looking at their snout. They are touched, in a way, at how polite it is of him. They forget, for a moment, that their mask isn't covering their mouth, and they show a little smile. At the both of them expressing concern, they look down at the poor bird.

"The tremors seem to have caught it unawares. I found it pinned by its wing, under a branch." Bloodhound turns their attention to Aurum and Caustic again, and with their mouth visible, one could see them frown. "The wing may be lost. But there is life behind that pain."

"Is there anyone who can help?" They ask quietly, as if they're afraid of the answer.

"Thank you, Doctor. I am depriving you of an object of observation, I apologize. But I could not bear its cries from my home. I hope you will understand."

Not that they truly felt sorry, but they knew that studying death in and of itself was something that was dear to the Doctor. On some level... perhaps they understood. The great last wheeze of a life fading, the slow pulse of a weak, strained heart, the body stiffening with time, becoming rigid. It was a process Bloodhound was deeply acquainted with. The fact that they did not need to go to these lengths to honor the Allfather, but chose to spill blood for Him, to put themself to the test, over and over, before Him, for Him. It was faith, that guided them. It was the scientific pursuit, that guided Caustic.

Feeling the bundle caw and squirm in the crook of their paw... they felt it deserved a chance. They too, were once young and foolish, and they too, had been punished dearly for it.

"I will find them and see. You have my gratitude."

Through their concern, they are glad that perhaps, Caustic could find the humor in their words. They had not been harsh or judgemental of his interests, merely... protective. He would not have this one.

They nod silently, and watch him leave, left alone with the little cawing bundle. They growl softly at the bird, the closest thing they can get to a coo. Bloodhound opens their jaws, taking the bundle into their mouth once more, standing again on their four. Now that they had names, the search would be much easier.

---