Cedarwood Forest in the name of love (m)

Content Warning: giving up/suicidal ideation/'dying', loss grief despair etc. your typical RoW mixin's
Sanitized Summary: Eros has been searching so constantly for his niece Ally, who was last seen 1/14, that he has collapsed from exhaustion in the snow and passed out. Asmund finds him and calls for help. Eros will be brought safely home and will need to stay in the infirmary.
I'll be posting with Az next, and then the thread is open to anyone who wants to join. This is not by any means a required pack activity, just an incident that would be common knowledge. As a result of this thread, Eros is no longer fit to be leader as of today, 1/26. @Viorel @Clover @Ozark @Isidore

Too many days had passed without a sign, no matter how desperately he searched. Torianna and Kalysta's fates had been evidenced, but the snows must have buried Ally's. Eros had tried to keep hope, determined to find her again and again and again, but...

It had been too long. Even if she'd left them by choice... Tired, emptied eyes turned upward to a swirling sky of steely grays and sharp snowflakes. It didn't seem possible anymore, that she could still be alive somewhere out there. He couldn't move his legs any longer, and their trembling steadily worsened until they gave, lowering him into the powder. The frostbite had already set in long ago, and he could swear he didn't feel the cold.

What would Archer think of him now?

His eyes blurred as crystal flakes settled down around and over him. The blowing snow would bury him, and the ice would eat away the softest parts of him, and then he too would be just another question. When it was all said and done, would they all be waiting for him? His mother and siblings, his predecessors and the ones he'd failed to protect? Would they welcome him, or would they be too ashamed of him to share their afterlife?

Eros' lids lowered shut, and his body's shivering weakened.

Maybe... there wouldn't be an after at all. Maybe it would just be darkness, blessedly and permanently free of any kind of feeling at all.

(This post was last modified: Jan 27, 2025, 04:58 AM by Asmund.)

Asmund had listened to his gut, and continued to keep a close eye on his errant leader. When he found Eros, there were only a few tawny patches of fur still visible amongst all the white and gray of winter's dominion. A deep frown cut across his lips, and he felt that familiar anger stirring in his chest. Why was the Valle heir so incredibly, infuriatingly weak?

He scooped the snow away from the larger wolf's face, those lines of guilt and despair in place still as though frozen there. They would have been, if not for Asmund. With a soft huff, he burrowed into the mounting drift to curl around him as best as could manage with his much smaller frame. He focused on safeguarding Eros' head and chest, assuming his core to be more important than extremities at this point. Maybe he'd lose the rest of his ears and even some toes, but at least he'd be alive, yes? The fool still had time.

Asmund licked the ice from Eros' closed eyes and nose, and felt the other move faintly. Stirring as though still stuck deep in a dream. Tipping back his head, the younger wolf began to howl. His voice was strong, and carried a tone of urgency. Eros needed help coming home.

The grandfather had been searching, for who in particular he wasn’t even sure anymore - they had so many missing. Kalysta and Torianna who had signs of struggle, Ally and Atlas who had seemingly disappeared into the night without a trace. Hera had once again been locked down within the territory to her displeasure in a desperate attempt to keep one of his wards safe from whatever was picking the pack off one by one. At least Oleander had returned to them earlier today, a small beacon of hope in all this shit.

The call that came was urgent and his heart fluttered with hope for a moment, had Asmund found one of them? It was immediately followed by panic at the tone that had been used, had he found them in a state worse than not knowing what had happened to them? Abandoning his own search the salt and pepper wolf spurred up a flurry of snow as he took off as quickly as he could.

By the time he had arrived he was slightly out of breath with exertion and paranoia as to what he was about to be walking in on. There he was, curled around somebody who was partially buried by the snow, obscured by Asmund’s brown pelt and the crust of fallen ice and snow made it so that he didn’t realize who it was at first. Gasping he surged forward, then froze when he realized which son it was, ”Oh Eros.” Was he going to be losing another child? When was this ever going to stop? Maybe asking his son to lead beside him has been a mistake - it had broken him.