surrendering to gravity | ...

[BLOODHOUND.]

They had not seen Ivan around for a few days now, and it worried them. The little one was clearly suffering, and they couldn't begin to verbalize how much they understood, how they wanted to help and support him. They find themself in front of a home that smelled of him, scratching at the door.

They recieve no response, so they push in anyways, calling out. "Ivan? Are you well?" They know he isn't .They know that they aren't, either, but perhaps they could share in that misery.

What they find is an empty house. They wonder, if he has found a nice warm spot to lay, if he was called away by one of the remaining members. The population within Tanglewood had seemed to only dwindle more, as the days and weeks stretched on. Had they lost hope? Was the loss of Leroy too great? Were their souls too full of grief to remain?

It felt so. They could feel it themself, settling deep in their bones. The collie's death had rattled them. The loss of Caustic and Octane had ached, familiarity gone. Selby and Alaric, Leroy, and then Snarl, and sure, Aurum had returned, but. It was not enough to stave off the loss.

They feared Ivan was next.

And they felt that fear, as they wandered the empty home, the faint scent of Selby, long gone. Of Ivan, recent but... not recent enough to settle the dread in the wolf's belly. And then- they find a book, a piece of paper sticking out of it. There was a slight layer of dust on the cover, and they carefully nudge it open, with a paw. Within, they find a note. Their eyes fall over it, skimming first. It must be important to the little one, for it to be out like this. They consider putting it back, averting their gaze and stepping out to resume their search, but they decide, ultimately, to read it in full.

Every line seemed mournful, confused. Aching. And it pulled at Bloodhound's heart until they found themself unravelling, trembling as they couldn't tear their eyes from it, reading every line until... it was done, and over. And they don't know what to do, or how to feel, numb and yet full of pain all at once. They carefully close the book, shaking their head, discarding their mask and desperately trying to catch his scent.

They chase after every lead, they cry out for him, from swamp to forest to junkyard, to farm, and crater, all over town and through the graveyard, their voice breaking as they find dead ends upon dead ends. No matter where they look, or what scent they follow, they cannot find Ivan. And it breaks them, with every lost trail they feel their heart break just a little more.

And they can feel the panic rising, the sobs rattling their chest, hot tears over their cheeks as their paws finally bring them back to that shore, where the fresh water meets the ocean. Where they had snatched that boy and pulled him to safety, where they had met again recently, in mourning.

And they sob. They can feel their legs give out beneath them, and they allow themself a moment, to curl up on the rocks and sand, their chest heaving.

Bloodhound is still there, when the tide comes in, feeling the cold water over their legs. Mourning. Aching. And very, very alone.

THE TRUE TEST IS BEFORE THE ALLFATHER.