[ P ] A s h e s

He felt like they were punishing him. First, Caiohme had been taken cruelly from him. Left him stranded and alone. His clan was weakening, with every rise of the sun; came another death. Another gone. Dwindling and dropping like flies... perhaps this was his punishment for being so withdrawn. Or perhaps, they did not agree with his leadership. But the Cheif could not fathom as to why. He had taught Ciara the best he could-with the stubbornness of her Mother shining through. He had given Graeme the space to decide and blossom into who he wanted to be. And yet, he had awoken in the 'morn to find them both gone. Deep down, perhaps a small part of him whispered the truth, gnawing like dark tendrils at the back of his mind. Yet anger, blood hot-violent and red, thundered through his ears. It took the strength of his toned body and turned it into simmering rage beneath his earthy skin, his gaze was bright, alive and burning with emotion-while excusing himself; he thundered off into the night, barking orders to be alone. His large paws thundered, crushing dewy-crisp blades of grass, the snows would soon melt and the worse of Winter would take it's vice-cold grip from the Southern lands... but the highlands would still be stained with snow for a while. But he did not mind the bitter winds, the chill and toe-numbing, no. It brought him clarity in moments like this; where his veins grew hot and his mind fogged. A snarl rippled through his cream-curved muzzle, pushing his body further, past the confides of his home and out into the true wilderness. As he crested a cliff-face; he was forced to slow, bathed in the bright, brilliant moonlight. Below, was a roaring river; so loud it drowned the thunderous heartbeat within his ears. His chest heaved as he stood so boldly, so clandestine. Yet so enraged. So broken. "What have I done to deserve such misery?" Through clenched jaws, he aimed his question at the fae. "Have I not served you well? Even when you took her from me?!" Those bright, turquoise eyes of his began to well, salty tears glistened in the moonlight. Sorrow and anger plagued him, and that was when he spun; in the darkness, alone, The Chief roared through his pain, his jaws sprayed wide and aimed for the nearest thing he could find... "If the accident will."

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@Kenna

Things were not going well. Kenna looked around at her broken family and her heart wept. So much destruction, so much sorrow, so much bitterness, so much fear. It was all so palatable, so tangible-- like smoke from wildfires hanging heavy in the air, choking her, choking them all, making it so she, so none of them, could breathe deeply. Every time she thought they would get a breath of fresh air, all their lungs were filled with ash instead. She wondered when things would get better. But she had faith that no matter how things changed, they would indeed get better. They would return to peace. It would be different, but it would be good all the same-- after all, it was useless to fight the changes the world placed upon their shoulders. This was a concept that her brother-in-law didn't seem to understand. That their Chief didn't seem to understand. And it was a problem. Since her sister had returned to the earth, The Lion had been absolutely unmanageable. He was more akin to a bear or beast than a civilized wolf, and while Kenna couldn't blame him for their shattered Clan, he certainly wasn't helping. His grief was a dangerous weapon, and it was time for it to be sheathed. She followed his scent out of their plot of land and up a cliffside. It was tumultuous with the roaring river below, and the wind tossing her tufts roughly. An appropriate place for him. He was there, bathed in calm moonlight -- but there was nothing calm about him. Kenna sat down behind him, a small distance away as he posted questions aloud: "What have I done to deserve such misery? Have I not served you well? Even when you took her from me?!" At this, Kenna's ears flattened and her eyes narrowed. She knew he was talking to the Them, and a chill nearly ran down her spine at his disrespect. She wondered if he understood it was this exact attitude that would anger them further. The man spun upon himself to lash out at the nearest thing-- and luckily she was not it. She did not move from her spot and frowned deeply as she watched his outburst. "Lion." she greeted somewhat coldly. This was not the first time she wondered what her sister saw in the man -- but then again, her sister saw everything beautiful, even in the worst of things. It was her biggest strength, and her greatest weakness. AND WE ALL LIFT, AND WE'RE ALL ADRIFT TOGETHER, TOGETHER

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He did not care for the sin that spilled from poisoned lips. He did not care for the treachery that they would feel, for he was angry. He was hurt. He was broken. And he was tired. Tired of loosing. Tired of pretending. For a man in control, for a man that had absolute control; his life was crumbling, breaking into shattered pieces around him. And all he could do, was watch. Paralysed, helpless. Pathetic. Unable. And so, after months of trying to hold the fractures together. Months of pretending that everything was fine, he snapped. Fangs glimmered in the moonlight that danced betwixt the branches, draping his creamy, earthen pelt in a clandestine light. But nothing about the man was holy. It was sinful, it was ashamed. It was anger and pain. A thud wrung through his skull, vibrating at the base of his nape, a sickening feeling twisted his stomach as his jaws connected with the closest tree trunk to him. The taste was bitter and acrid, much like the bitterness that rolled through him. Lion. A grunt, and the man wrought himself free, his chest heavy; heaving sighs and pants as the anger began to ebb and fade. He was not a lion in that moment, he was not the Chief. He was a beast. Turquoise eyes snapped, a flash of a monster. A flash of other, briefly, before settling and realising exactly whom stood so stoically before him. He blinked; perhaps if the shadows had concealed her in the right way, she almost looked like her. "I stated explicitly not to be followed." Earthy lips peeled back into a snarl. He did not want anyone to witness this... side of him-this weak, broken soul. He sucked in a huge breath, steadying and quelling the anger that bubbled and boiled within. Willing calm, regaining composure. He sought her gaze briefly, ignoring the sickening feeling that churned his stomach to lead. She had Caoimhe's eyes. "What is it?"He was Chief. He was a leader. He was a father. But the woman that stood before him was a sickening reminder of the family he had lost. Broken. Failed. "If the accident will."

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@Kenna

Such meaningless destruction. He grunted a response and yanked his embedded teeth away from the unsuspecting tree trunk. Kenna’s aqua eyes followed his movements shrewdly, wondering if there would be another outburst; indeed, he panted roughly and seemed wild as the Highlands themselves. He flashed a look at her. It could’ve been very easy to feel unnerved beneath his feral gaze, but Kenna felt nothing but cool ire toward his lack of control. He seemed to come back to himself, and let out a snarl: “I stated explicitly not to be followed.” Brook lifted her chin in something akin to defiance or pride, though it was a subtle movement. “That is why I followed.” She answered matter-of-factly. “Forgive me, Chief Lion.” She spoke the correct words, but the tone behind them was just vaguely challenging, faintly undermining. And then she added, “I didn’t think that the order applied to family.” By law, the two were still family. And his children were still her niece and nephew. He could not rid himself of her, even if he wanted to— nor she him. She let a moment pass. Then, “I assume this outburst is in relation to your children.” The woman looked at the stump briefly. “You understand you drove them away, don’t you?” The time for pleasantries was over. Her eyes hardened. “You are acting like a beast— and we are all suffering for it. You have too much responsibility to give into your grief like this.” Even though the words were harsh, the last sentence was spoken more gently— for she certainly understood his grief. The worst part of winter had been the disappearance of the lilies in the ponds— it was then that it truly felt like her sister had vanished from them, leaving a gaping emptiness in her wake. Her sweet Lily. Their sweet Caoimhe. AND WE ALL LIFT, AND WE'RE ALL ADRIFT TOGETHER, TOGETHER

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Many feared. Many trembled, many coiled and submitted when his anger exploded. They all knew better than to question and only the foolish dared to defy. Yet here she was. Small, dainty. Slim and slender; with eyes that echoed of his past, defiantly watching him. Just like how Caoimhe had. It was a family trait. That is why I followed. Forgive me, Chief Lion. The matter of fact tone caused a warning growl to simmer from his lips. A grunt flared through his nostrils, his eyes were as sharp as a well-polished blade, but he would never strike. I didn’t think that the order applied to family.” Of course, she was right. The only ones that could see through him. The only ones that could tame his rage, were those of his blood. Or so he thought. Reluctantly, he drew a heavy sigh, willing the icy winds to whistle through his lungs and simmer the burning rage within. His ears perked forwards and his stance grew back to its natural... proud way. "Is that what we are still?" Oh that tone was seething. It was bitter, it was ash upon his tongue. Closing those turquoise eyes, he felt his heart, moment by moment, return to a steady rhythm. I assume this outburst is in relation to your children. His eyes snapped open, then, following her bright gaze to the fresh incisions made upon the tree. He could still taste the acrid wood, it made his stomach churn. It felt like she had twisted a knife into his gut,"You are correct." Earthy ears pinned to his skull. You understand you drove them away, don’t you? And there came the final blow, she dragged that knife all the way up to his chest and took the remnants left. "Me? How dare you-"“You are acting like a beast— and we are all suffering for it. You have too much responsibility to give into your grief like this.” Just as the rage threatened to spoil, the harsh words stole it from his maw. "They left me She--our...." How such soft and dainty words could pact such a punch such a blow that made his knees buckle, make him weak. A frustrated snarl burned through his maw as he turned away from her, his seething gaze burned into the scenery around them; to the light that bathed them. To the shadows that cloaked them. He had no excuse. Nothing to say... because she was right. He knew it deep down, deep behind that twisted gut that he had made them this way. It was his fault.Regret swathed over him like a heavy-laden cloak. That was when he slumped. His legs gave way and he sat, so hunched, so broken. No longer the proud Chief of Clan Whelan. No longer the strong leader of the Militia. No longer the clandestine man of honour and duty, but a widow. With no children. No wife. A lonely man... with the weight of the world upon his shoulders. "If the accident will."

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@Kenna

His storm calmed, it seemed. A sigh heaved from his dark lips and his body seemed to reluctantly relax, falling back into its natural form-- ears perked forward, muzzle held perhaps a touch too high for her liking. Growing up, the Whelans had always been a strong vein within their Clan -- after all, they were the very blood their Clan was built upon. They had always been the backbone, and she supposed that came with some notion of pride or ego-- and yet, Toren's father hadn't been quite so... pronounced in that trait. True, as Kenna had known him, he had been older and his his role for some time. For all she knew, Chief Cian had been just the same as his son in youth. She hoped so, because the Chief they were enduring would certainly not last. Kenna watched, eyes drawing over every line of The Lion's earthen face. “Is that what we are still?” he asked in that apparent and bitter tone. Her ears twitched, and her lips pursed. “Does death relinquish marriage vows before Them?” she demanded roughly, and perhaps callously. She recognized his question was likely rhetorical -- but still. It stung them all, and he did not have special privilege to act like a child in his grief. She inquired about the tree, and his current state. “You are correct.” he affirmed simply. And she was relentless. He attempted to interrupt -- “Me? How dare you --” but she continued over him-- the things that he needed to hear. “They left me. She--our…” And then she did truly let her features soften. She understood, truly. He must know that. She rose to her paws, stepping forward with careful paws. He seemed to crumble upon himself, buckling underneath the weight of it all. Her frown deepened, but she moved forward. Her muzzle reached out slowly, tentatively -- and if he allowed it, her nose would brush like a ghost along the bridge of his muzzle. She retracted her touch almost instantly, but her eyes remained steadily on him. “They never leave us.” she said, her eyes meeting his own if she could catch his gaze. It was what they believed, what they knew -- that their loved ones never truly left. Their essence, their souls, their beings, remained in the earth around them-- forever. "Not if they don't want to," she continued, and pulled her muzzle fully back to level her stare at him. "But we can still be abandoned, even if not separated by distance or realms." and her meaning, she hoped, was quite clear: He had to be there. His wife's body was taken from their realm; his children had chosen to occupy different spaces of earth. But he still had to there, he had to be present. For them. AND WE ALL LIFT, AND WE'RE ALL ADRIFT TOGETHER, TOGETHER

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Grief was a cruel thing. It was a veil that clouded the mind, twisted the thoughts. Weakened the body. Broke the heart. It had made him unbearable, bitter. Cold. He pushed away, locked away. Simply for the pain that gripped his chest. Day by day, hour by hour, a tormented soul... he had pushed those away he loved the most. All because of Caoimhe. Does death relinquish marriage vows before Them?” Earthy ears flickered at her question. He did not expect one as such, it was more a bitter act of frustration. And he had managed to hurt-perhaps unintentionally. Her warm eyes held a frosty edge, evident in the higher pitched tone of her blunt words. His response was a simple grunt. Where Caoimhe often appealed to logic, to reason with a stoic, out-stretched palm, Kenna met his rage with that of her own. Foolishly. And yet, she was able to silence him. He, the Chief. Part of him commended her. Not many dared to stand up to the Lion. Though he did not offer a warning, he did not back away. He watched her with a seething, scornful gaze. She was almost angelic-like, delicately dancing upon a thin thread, careful not to push the wrong buttons... he was once an affectionate man, yet to receive such affection after so long almost startled him. The first, delicate brush of her muzzle sent his eyes wide, as if jolted by lightning. “They never leave us.” And yet, as their gazes met, his body slowly softened. "Not if they don't want to," He blinked. It was a strange feeling that settled between them. One that bewitched his jaws. Furrowed brows veiled intense, turquoise eyes. "But we can still be abandoned, even if not separated by distance or realms." Yes, she was not wrong. He knew that there was still time. Time to fix things. Time to move on. Much like time its self-The Clan had to survive and move on. Despite the suffering they had endured. He was silent, for a long time. Mind mulling over words spoken. Suddenly, like the tide; the turbulent emotions faded. And though the ache still remained, he could think somewhat clearer. "You are right." He had to step up, now. There was nothing else left for him. He rose. Back to sturdier, large paws. The clandestine Lion, who's chest puffed out proudly. "The Clan needs their Cheif back." He took one last, sobering glance towards the full moon. "And we shall continue, not forgetting those that we have lost." His voice was uncharacteristically soft. He then turned back towards Kenna. And offered a very rare smile. A silent thank you. Perhaps one day, he would say it. "I shall return to Camp soon," Now his tone sounded more like his own."I would like to enjoy the moon..."He had to pull his broken heart back together, force his mind onto the task at hand. Only when he was approachable, would he return to the heart of the Clan. His gaze briefly softened. "You may stay and join me, if you wish?" -Exit Toren.- "If the accident will."

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@Kenna