Grizzly Hollow bye bye black sheep, have you any soul?

Make it stop.

Make what stop, Veho wanted to yell – stop her mother’s tears? Stop the pain? Stop the time? The alpha wanted it all to stop as well. What he wouldn’t give to throw back the seasons to when all three of his children still lived in Grizzly Hollow, when things weren’t perfect, but they were okay. Even if the cubs weren’t happy, at least they were healthy and whole. For all the experience Veho had, even he hadn’t seen a wolf in such bad shape and sur—

He caught off his own thought with a violent shake, not willing yet to entertain the idea that his might be his only remaining child’s fate. What had he done, for her to deserve this? But he could contemplate later, because Oisin was back with the requested herbs. “Thank you,” he rumbled harshly, grabbing the ergot first. He pushed the stalks towards his daughter – they had to stop the bleeding. Nothing else would matter if she kept bleeding. “Eat these,” he told Ophelia. “It will help. The hurt will stop.”

It was better than nothing, anyways.

Grey eyes turned back towards Oisin. “Take the yarrow and a large leaf down to the river. Mash it up. I don’t care how you do it. Get it wet. Bring the paste back on the leaf as quick as you can.”

Even through the pain, she could hear her Mama's voice, comforting and loving. Mama was proud? Truly? And not just because she wasn't gonna make it through the day? Ophelia' tail swished weakly behind her and she tried to smile, but the pull of muscles left her face screaming and her expression crumpled. Everything hurt. Smiling, laughing, talking, sniffing, breathing. It all brought with it some manner of agony and the pale princess had begun living by what hurt the least or what was worth the pain.

Letting her family know how much she loved them, how sorry she was for being so awful... That was important. She didn't want to go with them thinking her a good riddance of a selfish, spoiled brat. She wanted it to matter. To make a difference. Even if it didn't make a difference at all. Nothing good was coming of her death. It was unfair, really. She wanted to live. She wanted to live and she was afraid of what came after! What if it was only darkness? What if she was alone? What if it was worse than this?

Hearing her father's voice near her ear, she wanted to sob. She was a disappointment for him. She was supposed to follow in his pawsteps. Rise to be a good leader. She'd let him down. Not on purpose, but there was no chance of that now. Ophelia longed to urge him to stay strong. Strong enough until another could rise to take his place and carry on his legacy. Maybe Felix would return and maybe he would lead instead. She wanted to laugh as she thought of him, grown, still upending rocks to find the best bugs. Ophelia longed to spend the day hunting for big buggies for him to come home to.

At Veho's bidding, Ophelia gingerly took the stalks of ergot in her mouth. They caught between her teeth and she couldn't re-position them well enough in her mouth without causing even minimal pressure on the roof of her mouth. Her palate felt mushier than it should, degrading with the presence of furious infection. The yearling whined, unable to get the herbs down. That protest was costly enough that she felt silent with the ergot still held between her teeth. Tenderly, Ophelia turned her head and let the ergot fall free.

"Killed him," she managed. It was too much to say that whoever he was, he wanted to hurt Pip. Too much to say that the look in his eyes said he wanted to hurt more than just Pip. "Not for nothing," she decided. Her life would not be forfeit in vain. It was for a cause. For Pip. For pack. For any others who would have been at that monster's mercy.

And she was cold, Ophelia realized. Despite the warmth of the day, she was freezing. Her limbs trembled violently from both exertion as well as whatever the source of the chill was, though her face still felt as on fire now as it had the very moment it had been torn into. "Just lay," she whimpered, begging, pleading to those around her. Mama. Daddy. Even the female hovering on the edge. If they would all just lay with her, maybe it wouldn't be so cold. Maybe it wouldn't hurt so much.

Ophelia couldn't help but wonder. Just how long did it take to die?

Ancestors, nothing was going fast enough – not his mouth, not his thoughts – not Oisin either, bless her little heart. The girl was trying. But Ophelia was dying right in front of him, and the world seemed to be spinning out of control as he moved in slow motion. Why him? Why her?

The only good one. The only one who stayed. Not Joan, not Tomen, not Felix – none of his other children waited at Grizzly Hollow, no matter what he tried to leave for him – and certainly not Rook. Whatever his mate had promised, it was Ophelia who’d been the most constant figure (outside of Pip). And even now, she preferred her mama. What had he done? Ancestors, what had he done? Was it Neha? Was this his punishment? Was it the hubris of leading a pack never meant for him?

Veho choked off a startled noise, barely aware of Oisin darting away as he shuffled to Ophelia’s side, opposite to her mother. His joints felt wooden as he lay, but he managed to settle best he could without jostling the injured wolf further. “We’re very proud, darling,” he rasped, throat and heart burning. But Ophelia needed to know before the Ancestors welcomed her with open paws. His perfect girl. “So very proud. Such a good girl. The best.”

No one would ever compare.

They were there. Both of them together. No matter their differences, Mama and Daddy were there together for her. If she were in a better state, she would have gotten such a thrill from it. Now, she found instead that the knowledge brought peace. Mama's warmth first on one side and then Daddy's on the other.

Having already been given her Mama's blessing and pride, Ophelia could have passed away in content. But in her heart, she knew it would be incomplete without also having confirmation from her father. And, steadfast and reliable as always, he granted her that which she desired most in that moment. While her Daddy lay next to her and professed his pride and love for her, she shuddered out a soft sigh of relief. The words from her parents brought more comfort than any herb or remedy could have.

She was selfish, Ophelia knew, because despite all that was said, she didn't feel completely satisfied. She longed to rub her muzzle against theirs, inhale their scents deeply once more. The state of her mangled face made the desire unable to be fulfilled. Tenderly, she shifted onto her side until the side of her head draped over one of her father's paws while her own forepaws sprawled across her mother's. It was the closest she could manage to offering a last kiss.

Perhaps it was the last of her adrenaline leaking from her body or the infection finally settling in deep enough for mortality, but Ophelia felt too weak to even lift her head. Ophelia's peridot eyes looked up a her parents, glistening like gems, as her breaths became deeper and farther between. Behind her, her tail gave one last feeble attempt at wagging.

"Love..." she managed. It was all the yearling had left and the word had stolen her last breath. Though her eyes did not close, death became apparent as they lost the life that once danced vibrantly within their depths.

No one deserved a death like this, least of all his precious his daughter. Of all four children, this was the only one that had stayed behind. Oh yes, there were others now, but they were inconsequential, and not his (not cursed) – he didn’t even know if the others lived, or if they’d ever return. Veho’s ears trembled as he leaned forward, pushing gentle kisses against Ophelia’s snout. His poor, poor girl. There was so much life left to live. How strange was the world, to rob a girl with so much left of her life, and leave a failure like himself to live on.

“Love you too,” he choked, voice barely audible as Ophelia breathed her last. His poor princess.

Closing his eyes, the alpha dropped his head. He wanted to scream, to howl – to offer Oula some measure of comfort in this awful time, but could not think of a single thing to say. Even when he opened his mouth, his throat refused to work, closed in on the horrible lump. So instead, hot tears trickled down his face, leaving a damp spot on the ground beneath his dusty chin. He left Ophelia’s paw on his own for hours, and hours more. His darling girl was gone.

Fade.