Dead Empress Backwater all the king's horses and all the king's men

Reade followed and watched, paying his respects in silence and from a distance so that others might tread more closely. The air was heavy, the scent that drifted to his nose was one he'd know before and it brought back his own memories of sadness and loss, something he'd need to sit with another time.

This time was for her.

A girl he'd never known, taken from her family by the Fates before her time. Maybe there was someone waiting for her on the other side that just missed her too much. Maybe there was no reason at all.

He didn't usually dare think such things, but even the faithful could be shaken by the death of a child. Still he'd find his footing again soon enough, this was senseless, but he was not the one who'd been dealt a cruel blow, and he'd remain strong to do whatever he could in the days ahead.

For now, he would follow, and guard the mourners.

Rochus had been a fair distance away when Viorel's summoning call sounded out for all the Backwater members. In his older age he was not as fast as he used to be, and as he was not particularly speeding to get there he arrived just a tad late, huffing quietly to get more air into his lungs.

He watched silently as Viorel eased the young girl's body across his own shoulders and body, precariously settled, but not enough to slide right off. Without saying a word he began to follow a small distance behind Viorel, making sure to put a look of sorrow upon his face to at least appear to be mourning, though he had had very few interactions with he girl herself and so did not feel particularly sad in that moment. But he would put on a show so as to not anger Viorel. He could not afford that to happen.

The rest of the Backwater wolves began to filter in one by one, each offering their own support to Viorel, whether it be vocally, physically, or just showing up and being respectful. Viorel didn't appear to respond to any of them, and when he moved to lift Sephrina up from the ground Clover moved back to give him space. She pressed up against Vayko's side, briefly glancing up at him with a sorrowful look but said nothing else. She didn't know what else there was to say at a time like this.

As Viorel began to slowly carry Sephrina she followed him, stepping in just behind and ready to offer a paw if he needed any help. They moved slowly to where the others had been buried, already three too many and now about to add a fourth. When they finally arrived she stood close to Viorel, but said and did nothing until he was ready to move on to the next step in the burial process. Clover didn't want to rush him, and instead would simply help and follow whatever he chose to do. Sephrina was his child after all, and he had a final say in the matter.

Final round. Viorel will post a fade on April 13th, please have your posts in prior to then, no post order.

They arrived at the small collection of dens, made by foxes or badgers, he had never really known, that was slowly and sickeningly being filled with their fallen members. Each one held someone that had been loved and cherished, a member of their family, someone that was supposed to be here. Sure, Grandma Katna had been very old and lost her mind, and Walleye had been no spring chicken, but Inger had been taken away, and Sephrina was far too young. Not even a yearling, still growing into her large paws and ears and now she would never get the chance.

It seemed unfair. It seemed especially unfair when you considered how little of the world she had seen before losing her sight. She hadn’t had enough time, and everything had been slowly robbed from her and then everything taken all at once.

(This post was last modified: Apr 10, 2023, 12:48 AM by Sephrina.)

Silence lingered; he felt in that moment as though he had no right to speak. He knew he could not be blamed for her death… that was on the Cove who had been looking after her when I thappened… but the guilt of not returning with Vanadis, to give his cousin at least some measure of happiness or closure… it was hard for him now to look at him and see him in so much pain.

Death didn’t discriminate… but it certainly seemed drawn to Viorel in some way… Vanadis presumed dead, at least in Vayko’s mind, now his daughter… Katna… so many others who had fallen around them since the aliens had dropped them into this god forsaken land. He was beginning to wonder if the creatures that had put them there had known it was cursed, and had dropped them there on purpose.

He would follow along, assisting with moving the form of his niece and keeping his cousin company. Apart from his initial words to the man, he would remain silent. A show of support, of solemn strength… that was all he could have.

Vayko Valle

Oleander could only stare as everything before him unfolded. Then, when it was time for them to move, he watched as his father lifted Sephrina's lifeless body. She draped over Viorel as if she had been a part of him. Two souls cut from the same cloth. Clover's white-furred son could not have felt more estranged. Perhaps he was more like his mother than he realized... He tucked the thought away for later.

The funeral procession was underway and Oleander followed after Clover. Then, as they stopped, he moved forward, eyes darting from one adult to another. Without a word, his paws clawed at the earth and he dug. He said nothing and acknowledged no one. When the hole in the earth was large enough to cradle Sephrina's dark form, he was muddy and unkempt. Bits of forest debris, clay, and soil clung to him, and he held in his mouth a piece of stubborn root that he had ripped up.

He might as well have been burying his littermates, his sisters who left him without so much as a goodbye. His glossy eyes focused on Viorel, then on Clover and Uncle Vayko. He trembled, harboring no energy left to even nod or bow. All he could do was take his leave. They could lay her to rest and say their goodbyes, but his part of it all was done. He needed to be alone.

they say pray it away, i swear,
OLEANDER VALLE
that I'll never be a saint, no way

He'd stand guard, close by at first before drifting back to allow the others the space they needed to do what they would. The air itself felt heavy, the atmosphere filled with sorrow and loss and other things, tangling together until it could be smelled along with death and damp earth on the air.

Eventually he'd drift away from the site, as others did so in their own time. To keep watch from a distance, to add his voice to the mourning song, to remember what had been done today and hope a day like this would not come to the Backwater again. That the Fates would not forget what they had taken from these wolves, would be kind enough to give them something back for it even if it were only a reprieve.

She’d never witnessed death and it was a humbling experience. How easily it could have been her but no one would have carried her body. No one would have known her name. She followed to their graveyard still in the back of the line, her feet shuffling with little effort. What had happened to the girl? Why her? Or was it all just for nothing? No reason?

It was then she thought of her mother, half wishing she was here, as if she could put her mind at ease. She was quite doubtful that would be the case. She’d use her own useless words. Or maybe, she’d like to see her one more time.

Fragile life.

Once more her eyes traced over the pack, lingering on the dark pelt leader. Chasing the mountain goat seemed like another time, with a different wolf. Could he heal from this? It didn’t seem like a wound but a terrible blow. No one would ever fix it. It would never be right. She hoped he’d continue to live if not for himself for his blood family.

As others dispersed, she did not linger. She walked from the burial grounds, running as soon as she was out of sight. She had to leave pack lands.

The other wolves came and went, though the whole ordeal was mostly silent. Silent and heavy. Oleander cleared the den so her body could be laid down and everyone else seemed to stay for a while before quietly slipping away and leaving them there.

Viorel did not go.

Viorel would not go.

He would stay here until someone would gently pull him away to eat something, or do a border patrol, and then he would come back. Night after night he would stay here, so Sephrina would not be alone. He couldn’t leave her alone.

She was resting now, and Viorel was not sure he would ever be at peace again.

FADE