The smell of death was slow to come to Niles' nose, the winter weather quick to preserve and practically freeze Angier in time, but when it did, Niles nuzzled his face into his father's ribs then shakliy stood up. Tears had welled up in his eyes but as soon as they had fallen, he saw him there. Sven. His nephew, Skoll's cub, the one who had (accidentally) harmed his sister once when they had all first met... Only he wasn't as little as Niles remembered; instead, he was just as large and tall as he was. Time, it seemed, had been kind, but where Sven had a pack and the bulk to show he was well-looked after, Niles was thin and much too lanky for coming up into adulthood.

"You should have stayed," the white-pelted brute stated.

The Lyall sniffed, inhaling loudly as if it pained him to breathe. The corners of his mouth trembled. More tears fell from the corners of his eyes when he blinked, staring hard at Sven. They had been separated for so long, all that remained were those fleeting memories of their days as cubs, but even then Niles still had no words for his age-mate nephew. It should have been clear: Angier had died sometime in the night the day before and Niles was in pain because of it. Surely, Sven still had his father.

Though Niles' shoulders and limbs had squared in what seemed like an aggressive fashion, his ears folded back and his twitching muzzle remained smooth along the bridge. He wasn't going to fight it, fight what the Archer had said. It had initially been his fault. They shouldn't have left, but that had been months ago before Angier's vision had gone completely and before the time when his back and joints had constantly ached. It had been Angier's fault for not heeding his son's words, for believing that it was possible to bring Niles back, for not staying close to home once his son had abandoned him there; but, in the end, it was Niles who shouldered the blame.

His tail fell slack and hung at his heels and he turned to glance at his father's face once more. There was no blood, no sign of struggle, not even a hint that some larger predator had gotten to him. By the tracks in the snow - which had been covered from the previous weeks' snow storm - it would seem that he had chosen this particular willow and laid down to rest. Niles' tail tucked and he looked to Sven once more, his colorless eyes anticipating something more from him. It was probably going to be more words, more blame, more means to regret the choices he had made, but Niles was ready now to take it all. Goodness knew just how long Niles had waited for the paler man to snap...

It went without saying - even now, after months apart, the static between the two youths crackled, violent and turbulent. Then, at long last, Sven's true nature revealed itself. Niles' eyes narrowed and, though he might've had time to react, he didn't. His head bowed, chin tucking to protect his throat. The Archer's teeth found purchase on the Lyall's nape, again... and again... and again.

Niles had been built to intimidate but, for him to fight, was costly in energy and time. Sven's attack had his willowy legs splayed and gradually his kneels and wrists gave way, the sting of sharp teeth radiating across his neck and shoulders. The force was too great - his will too weak to even attempt such a thing - Niles was unable to bare his teeth. Angier could not protect him; his mother was probably far and well away to hear the panicked yelp that escaped his chest. There was no one to protect him; and, to poor, pitiful Niles, there was little he could do. He had always let his lithesome sisters @Ravenna and Isolde win their little puppy spars.

He rolled, his right elbow reaching the ground first before the rest of his body followed. Stop, stop, stop, his whines sounded out. Another sharp cry of pain and his body was wracked with sobs. Please.

The threats and obvious dominance displays continued and Niles' eyes fully closed, perturbed now by the snapping of Sven's teeth just inches from his masked face. He cried now, snivelling, until another voice broke through the other youth's bullyragging. "BROTHER! STOP! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" Niles shook, blinking as he tried to see just who it was that had disrupted his age-mate's display. She sounded young; it made no sense to assume it was Ravenna. Ravenna, if she, too, had not changed from how Niles remembered her, might have countered Sven rather than call out to him; and, what was more, she never would have called Sven brother. That was his title, not Sven's.

"Attica, stay back!"

Niles stole a glance at the side of Sven's jaw, the fur along his throat, but never did the though of attack cross his mind. He sniffed loudly, unable to calm the tremors in his chest from where he laid in the snow. He opened his mouth to speak, to utter some terrible word to bestow upon the paler man, but when Sven's gaze whipped back to him, Niles' lips sealed. He made an effort to glare, but the furrow in his brow made him seem more hurt than before, bruised in side and out.

Sven wasted no time, getting his point across as though he held a dagger dangerously close to Niles' throat. "Remember this: your worth died with him."

The Lyall held his tongue. Sven wasn't worth it, not matter how much he yearned to put his nephew straight. Family, to the Archers, should have been everything; but, granted that Niles still had his skin, proved that there was some sort of code at work at the very least. When Sven's sister had told him to stop, he ceased the snapping of his jaw. Mentally collecting himself and fortifying the broken pieces within, he stared into those pale, ghost gray eyes. The first chance he got, he would tell someone - perhaps, first and foremost, @Ravenna - of this attack. Angier death could have broken him, but Sven Archer bestowed upon him a chance to remember just who he was.

In a bout of pride, he {blew} spit into the Archer's face, ears still flattened to his skull. It would take a long while to believe it, but Niles knew he was worth so much more. For now, this would have to do, anything so that he could properly grieve...