riverlight || bird death [open]

[BLOODHOUND.]

They return home, from a night of the hunt. They shed off their mask, dropping a still-warm rabbit beside their corvid friend, tearing into the flesh with their teeth before pushing it towards the injured, sickly bird. It moves weakly, shredding the flesh and slowly consuming it. They notice that the crow has lost quite a few feathers, and had only grown weaker, and know... in their heart, that perhaps tomorrow would be a good day to end it's pain.

The Allfather, however, seemed to have different plans, as it caws once, twice, a soft, pitiful noise. Something wretched. Something painful. Its small body collapses, wheezing, trembling. They watch, as its heart gives out, as pain and infection win out over Bloodhound's nurturing. Bloodhound's ears fall back, but they knew it had to have come soon, either by their hand, or by nature stepping in, to reclaim a life they had selfishly tried to keep.

They bow their head in sorrow, gathering up the corvid in their jaws before it went stiff, and taking a quiet trip, to the banks where they had followed after Ivan, pulling the young one to safety. They fashion a small boat out of bark they strip from trees with claws and teeth, from sticks and vines and grass. They lay the bird upon the wood, and in the absence of flame, they collect fireflies, in a jar. They lay the jar on the raft as well, and drag the little boat slowly to the water, nudging it off into the calm sea, once they were out far enough.

"Thank you for your strength, little one."

Perhaps it was a lot to undertake, for a wolf to hold a small funeral for a crow. But still, they stood there in silence, until the tide took it away.

THE TRUE TEST IS BEFORE THE ALLFATHER.

[Ivan]

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IVAN
slav. "god is gracious"
---
a son
a brother

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ALYOSHA, MY DEAR, MY ONLY SON, I'M AFRAID OF IVAN —

Death was on his mind. Or at least, some sort of end. It was not death for him, rather the idea in general. He was dragging his feet philosophically, and he always had been. But it felt different. Everything felt different, and he thought he knew the answer but he just was not sure.

Those thoughts only swirled in a greater crescendo when he caught the scent of death. He noticed Bloodhound with the little crow in their jaws and followed them silently. His breath grew heavy and labored as they came to the place where he had walked out into the water. He might have never returned, if it weren't for Bloodhound. An acute pain pierced his heart, on the right side. He knew it was the right side.

Swallowing his pain, he finally joined Bloodhound. He did something he had never done before. He leaned his head forward to try to place it against Bloodhound's leg. And he said a prayer. He really did. It felt strange. He remained in silence for a heartbeat or two, listening only to the pounding of his pulse.

"Bloodhound, you are very good." He whispered. Ivan's eyes, green-blue as the sea itself, shifted to watch the the boat bearing the deceased corvid set off into the horizon. "Thank you." For both the bird and himself.

— I'M MORE AFRAID OF IVAN THAN THE OTHER ONE.

[BLOODHOUND.]

They hear and smell him long before his approach. They remember that day, the dark water, the cries. How long, he had struggled. They remember diving into the deep water to whisk the little one away from the current, the fearful life between their jaws. They remember meeting him when they had arrived, how small he was, how large his eyes had been. They had watched him grow from the sidelines for the past few months, had seen the hardships that had befallen him and his own, a family torn apart by grief.

And it made them ache.

Thoughts of their parents often resurfaced, of a life they no longer possessed, how they had lost so much, so young. The strength it took, for a child to survive alone. They understood. They know, and they want to reach out to the little one, to show him that he is not alone in his grief. That they have every intention of supporting him where they can. They would not and could not replace his parents, but at the very least, the little one could trust in them.

Their heart nearly shatters, as Ivan's head presses up against their leg, as Ivan reaches out first, as they share in silence.

And it finally does, as Ivan tells them that they are good. As he thanks them. It takes every ounce of their strength, to hold back tears, to not cry in front of him. They look down at him, their eyes soft, and sit, trying to move their leg so they may wrap it around him, in an attempt to make him feel held.

"And you are so strong, Ivan. At this age, you should not have to be. But you are." I've got you. "You do not need to be alone in your strength. I am here."

THE TRUE TEST IS BEFORE THE ALLFATHER.

[wormwood.]

Aurum had never lost a pet before, mainly because he had never had a pet before. Despite this, the lion also knew that most considered their pets or companions to be family, and the angel had certainly lost family in the past. He wasn't sure he could ever compare Bloodhound's pain over losing their corvid companion to the pain he had experienced losing Judith, or Moth, but he knew it had to be hard. He could still remember not too long ago, when Bloodhound had first joined, and their companion had followed them along, silently and obediently. He had been impressed by the bond the two seemed to share, especially since he had never really had such a relationship in the past. For some reason, he had never expected to see the bird die. Logic dictated that all things ended up dying, at least in the end, but for some reason the angel had never thought he'd be around to see the end of the crow's life. Maybe it was just because the creature had been introduced to him so recently, or maybe he just trusted Bloodhound to know how to care for it – not that it was Bloodhound's fault the bird had died.

The large feline had found himself glancing up in curiosity when he saw Bloodhound traveling by, the bird's cold body clenched in their jaws. At first he had thought it was prey, but then he had remembered, and his heart had sunk low, into his belly. He waited a few minutes before he followed after them, watching as they stripped the trees and sent the tiny corvid off onto the water. It was rather beautiful, even when it was for something so small. Aurum hesitated for a moment before he emerged from the trees, moving over to the edge of the water and saying softly, under his breath so that none but he could hear it, "Please take this one, and be kind to them. I beg of you." Although the angel had lost – some could say abandoned – his connection with God and heaven long ago, he still felt it proper to say a prayer for the deceased, just as he had when Leroy had died, and when Moth had as well. Once his prayer was done, he mumbled softly to Bloodhound, not wanting to interrupt their and Ivan's moment, "Sorry for your loss, Bloodhound."

[glow=black,2,300]— ✘ —[/glow]

[DELILAH.]

DELILAH EVERGARDEN

"The Gods have forsaken us."

Loss. So much loss.

Delilah watched in agony as the little bird floated away, the dragoness pushing her way through trees to land and say a soft prayer. The earth mother made decisions, sometimes. She had heavy influence over life and death. Sometimes, she would harm those who didn't deserve it out of misunderstanding.

"Rinn thu gu math. You did well, little one."

A soft melody, before the woman settled herself in beside Aurum to mourn- it was better to mourn together than alone. Ivan and Bloodhound could have their moment, but Delilah was there to support them.

tags - penned by [member=1260]ryuu-tan[/member]

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