Dead Empress Backwater I wave goodbye to the end of beginning

Oleander, as of late, felt life had left him jaded. With the comings and goings of all his pack mates, he almost didn't care anymore who was here and who wasn't. What felt like the near-constant shuffle of the pack hierarchy failed to faze him. Sage's continual absence did nothing but accelerate the spiral he was stuck in. Yet, when the howl met his ears, something within him perked up.

Tuwile.

His brother barely ever made a sound. Never spoke, neither whined nor barked. Whenever Oleander saw him in passing, there was only silent acknowledgment. Nothing more.

Somewhere in the darkness, the rustling to his left was Clover's upcoming arrival at the scene. His pace hastened after her. Two racing specters in the night.

Like her, Oleander felt out of place. He stopped short of the group as if there were some invisible line drawn in the forest debris. Pale eyes drank in the scene. From Ozark to his father and baby sister, to his brothers, and then to his niece Ally and cousin Jacynth. His ears and tail fell as he finally laid eyes on Tuwile and the man who had been his granduncle.

Oleander faltered to one side as Clover stood beside Khalon and Tuwile. Spidery limbs anxious as he swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. Another dead, and there had been nothing he and Clover could have done. He averted his gaze, sitting down in the quiet. Just as he had done in the past, he, too, would help lay Rochus to rest.

         

OLEANDER |

Nobody gets me like you do I'm not the same, not after you

It's time to strap our boots on

Conquest

This is a perfect day to die

Torianna kept her distance, lingering towards the edge of the group, her eyes locked on the form that laid there… now unmoving. Her face was stoic, and in many ways she blocked out the rest of the world. Her gaze focused on him… on her grandfather, the one true piece of her father she had left that she didn’t entirely hate, like she did her brothers or her sister.

And he was simply gone… just like her dad. Resentment gripped in her stomach, fighting to keep a snarl from rising on her features, too rigid to be mourning but too unfeeling to the eye to be angry either… a torrent of feelings riding around in side of her like some jealous pit.

What was so great about the afterlife that he’d leave her? It didn’t lessen the intensity of her amber gaze, unable to spare looks to her brothers or mother.

Instead, she allowed the resentment to harbor, building into her, hoping she could keep it contained to not explode at the thought of anyone trying to speak to her.

His family trickled in one by one, either to pay their respects, or to stay along the edge of the group. More showed up than he had expected, given the time of night. But every body was a welcoming presence. No one other than Viorel spoke, other than his mother and brother to whisper out their grief. Tuwile, however, had said his piece, and would hold his tongue for the time being.

He returned the gesture Jacynth gave him in acknowledgement, and then gently leaned his shoulder against Khalon as some form of comfort. Fiery orange eyes peered around the two boys to look at his mother, but she appeared too wrapped up in her grief to notice anything beyond where Rochus lay unmoving. When Tori never appeared by their side his head swiveled around until he caught sight of her off to the side, her emotions boiling within her gaze moreso than they usually did.

After it was clear no one else would show up Tuwile turned to look at Viorel, nodding with his head to the wolf that it was time to begin burying his grandfather. It was time to put the old man to rest one final time.

Many of the pack members filtered in and stood by respectfully, or whispered amongst themselves. Viorel himself did not have much to say, but thought it was appropriate that so many of them were here now to see the elder off. He let everyone say their peace, and then met Tuwile’s eye and nodded in return, moving forward to take his place standing next to Rochus. He looked back towards his nephew and said, ”We’ll need to take him to lay with the others.” That was what he deserved, a final resting place amongst the wolves who had been important to the Backwater.

from charming to alarming in seconds

This was not right. Nothing about this was right and he felt anger bubbling inside his stomach and in his veins and boiling into his eyeballs. It was his mother’s whisper that brought everything to a head and he whipped his head up, gold eyes glaring at her accusingly. She was sorry? His grandfather was dead and she was sorry? His nose curled up in disgust at the sight of her, and then Khalon turned and fled away. He couldn’t bear the sight of seeing the corpse that had been one of the last ties to his father, and his mother who had let him die.

EXIT

Khalon’s accusing gaze had Clover’s stomach turn uncomfortably, knowing that it was her that brought on his reaction. But she deserved it. She has failed in her one duty. She watched silently as he turned and ran, unable to do more than watch as his tawny form disappeared into the trees.

No one else spoke until Viorel announced they would need to move Rochus’ body to where they had lain the others to rest. While not large enough to help carry his body, Clover would assist the rest of the group in digging his burial hole. It waa the absolute least she could do after being unable to save him from death, but it wouldn’t feel like enough. Nothing would, and hope as she might she could not bring someone back from the dead.