“Lekalta, enough,” she wearily sighed, her ears drawing back to her skull as her green eyes once more found the stubborn gaze of her daughter. Lekalta was a spirited creature – always had been – but her persistence now had crossed the borders of personal space, and the dominant leader within was beginning to stir. Her lips curled back gingerly to flash her teeth – a warning that if the girl continued to press, the she-wolf would force her to submission.


Even with the display, the girl stubbornly kept her focus on her, and while Lekalta wilted slightly beneath her own harsh gaze, Kisla could tell she was not ready to give up on the conversation just yet. Sighing, the honeyed woman brushed past her daughter gently, nosing the remains of a rabbit toward her. “Why don’t you take this and pester Inna and Oksana with it?” The closer they got to the den with Matheo and Risaela likely lurking nearby, the more anxious the regal found herself – what if they overheard?


Yet as she continued onward, insistent that the conversation had ended, her youthful daughter trailed after her, pausing only to scoop up the rabbit before quickening their pace.


“They haff a righ’ t’know” Lekalta muffled out, coughing as rabbit fur tickled at her throat before she leapt forward, now aiming to cut her mother’s quickening pace off. Kisla’s warning growl was not missed by her – but as each day passed, she found it more unbearable – who was the father of her youngest siblings? Dropping the rabbit once more, she steeled herself. “Inna and I have a right to know. They’re our family, too. Unlike Aleksei and Karina, we’re the ones that stayed. Doesn’t that show our loyalty not just to this family, but to our pack?” She held her breath then, watching Kisla consider the words – knowing this request would be shot down once more.


“It’s inconsequential,” Kisla answered, her eyes sharp upon her daughter. “Matheo and Risaela are of Hearthwood River – they are ours.” She paused then, her eyes softening as she could sense the frustration that emanated from her daughter. “Lekalta,” she paused, hesitant. “The father is an old friend. If he knew they were his.. he might try to take them. It’s best this way.” Her words become more steely near the end – would Ice try to take her children from her? Perhaps – he would be less keen to move away from Serach to help look after them. And life was complicated enough – Matheo and Risaela had saved her from herself. They were exactly what she had needed to see that life could continue without Maksim at her side – and Hearthwood River would be stronger for it all. “It is a secret I will take to the grave.”


With those words, it was as if she had blown a kiss to fate – and had awoken a beast.


She could see Lekalta rev up to argue once more – ever so keen on receiving a name.. her curiosity unsatisfied by the small tidbit of information Kisla had given her. But more importantly – it was the flash of cream that gained her attention, and her hackles lifted, a snarl ripping past her lips as she swept forward. “Lekalta, move!” The command was spoken without the authority she usually used and with desperation instead – the cougar came to them now with a yowling hiss that made the blood in Kisla’s vein freeze with dread. So close to her den, her instincts waged.. so close to her children. She barrelled Lekalta aside – hoping the girl had enough common sense to run for the den and ensure the pups were gone – to pull them all to safety. There was no time for further instruction – no time for thought. There did not seem to be rhyme nor reason to why the attack had risen, and yet Kisla clashed with the large cat in a fury of desperation. Her fangs sought purchase to flesh, aiming to kill rather than warn away – blood was tasted, but in the frenzy of fur, snarls and adrenaline, Kisla could not tell if it was hers or the predators. She only knew the moment of the fight – and realization that the irony of a cat taking her life much like her husband’s ultimate end was not lost upon her.


What felt like eternity took only minutes – she felt victorious as she bore a large rip in to the feline’s nape – but the moment was fleeting when a swipe knocked her to the ground, and strange jaws found the back of her neck to her spine. “Save –“ The breath was stolen from her – her voice closed off with a gargle, and she knew her fight was over then. She could see the barrelling form of Lekalta – she could pray that the youth would seek her younger siblings out – would call the pack. Would do what it took. But then Kisla Baranski knew nothing more – the slump of her figure promised her death, and the blow had been swift. The Baranski matriarch had fallen, and one of the Wildwood's first daughter's had taken her final breath.

Lekalta, for a fleeting moment, had ducked past her mother when she had yelled at her – surely her questions hadn’t invoked such rage? But her eyes were met with a flurry of violent motions – the hissing snarls of the large cat, and the desperation in her mother’s attack as she made to heed the feline off. It felt eternal to watch – as if her brain could not grasp what her eyes were seeing now.


But there could be no wasted time. Her mind reeled, and with her fear and sorrow, her cries went out to the pack – warning them – summoning them – anything. But it was Matheo and Risaela her mind reeled to then, and leaping toward the den, her nose to the ground, she could not tell in her panic if her younger siblings were even within its vicinity. Their scent was strong – but it was common for them to test the boundaries of their limits, and despair wrenched her heart at the thought that the cougar would find them first.



Her eyes shot back – she saw Kisla’s attack land impressively upon the feline’s figure – and then she saw her mother’s body move like that of a ragdoll to the ground, and the life from her crushed all within moments. A sound keened past her lips – a strangled sound of misery and rage, and she felt the tremble of sorrow tremble her very body. The predator moved away – not happy with this one notch of life in its belt, and Lekalta did the best she could to keep it from the den – in case the pups were in there. She rushed it, nipping viciously at the creature and aiming to lure it away.


It swiped at her – it’s own fury and experience by far surpassing her own. She felt the pain of opened flesh – could feel her blood. It pounded in her ears as well, and Lekalta maneuvered herself desperately at the cougar – and with a snarl, her own muzzle grasped it – stirring a shriek from the animal as she blinded it in one eye with fang and claw. And then she ran – the cat hot on her heels. She ran for her life – she ran for the life of her siblings. She lured it away – the world had become a blur – tall sequoias whipped past her, but she could feel the breath of the beast on her ankles. She ran and could not look back, but she did not need to – the death of her mother was forever seared in to her mind. The cat grappled her – raking claws against her, eliciting yelps. They quieted the further they got – clumps of her fur and blood shred across the terrain.


She ran and did not stop – Hearthwood River would grow quiet in the aftermath of the attack – but Lekalta nor the feline would be found.

A desperate howl echoed through the trees. A moment of quiet followed – and then a blood curdling scream shattered through the eerie silence.

Lorcan arrived too late.

The scene that greeted him was one that the male had never thought he would ever have to witness. Pale paws slammed to a halt and the contents of his stomach threatened to erupt up from his mouth as his gaze came to settle on the lifeless heap of the fallen matriarch. The dark fur along his spine bristled and his eyes widened as he noticed the dullness of Kisla’s once bright apple green eyes and the blood which pooled around her awkwardly splayed limbs.

The scent of the cougar still lingered in the air and the thought of what the honeyed woman had endured before her final breath caused a shiver to crawl up his spine. His attention then shifted to those who had gathered around her and his heart froze when he spotted the dark hunched figure of Inna as she wept over her dead mother.

Instinctively the male found himself sweeping in towards her. He came to linger silently by Inna’s side, his own paws stepping into the blood which the grieving daughter had slumped down into. His heart raced inside his chest as he drew a blank about what to say, his mind completely overwhelmed by the entire situation to be able to offer the woman any consoling words. He chose to remain silent, not wanting to make the situation worse, and instead sat down and carefully leant forwards to gently place his muzzle over hers in an attempt to comfort her.

A single kiss was then placed on Inna’s forehead as his eyes drifted down to gaze solemnly at their fallen leader.