The harsh winter winds had slowed the sucking sands, freezing the water particles in between the granules of rock. It was a good thing for had it not been frozen, the tiny, emaciated wraith that stumbled through the Pitfalls would have surely lost her life. Not that she cared. Her body was on autopilot while her mind was light years away. She had failed. All of her knowledge. All of her expertise had meant absolutely nothing. He had gone all that way for her. So that she could heal. In the end, it killed him. Roan... her sweet, sweet man. The husband that had filled the void within her and let her know that everything was going to be okay. Her Bearkiller. The other half of her soul. He was gone. His life snuffed out like a tiny flame at the end of a piece of kindling. And she hadn't been able to do a gods damned thing. Mists swirled around the tri-colored body, though the white parts of her were yellowed and dirty. From the time that she had buried her husband, Iolaire had been walking. Her paws were cracked and bloody, though the further north she walked, the more they froze. Her nails were broken. Her coat was in disarray. She was filthy and disheveled. The woman looked nothing like the confident wolf that she had once been. As the light died within Roan, something too died within her. Where was she going? She didn't rightly know. All that she remembered was that her family was north. She needed to go north. No doubt her path had zigzagged and she didn't quite know where she was. Had she known that she'd tromped right past her mother's territory, she would have kicked herself in the ass. Iolaire's paw caught on a rock as she skirted the edge of the land of quicksand. The broken woman crashed to the ground face first, biting her lip and hitting her nose so hard that it began to bleed. Curling up in a ball, the wounded woman sobbed aloud, her banshee-like wails fading into the undulating mist. "Speech"

She was thankful for the man Eraithus, he was a steadfast member of Habari and he’d shown his dedication to the pack and her more than once. She was grateful he kept her fed, and even more so in this moment that he would puppysit. Deathbelle hadn’t been away from the tiny children at all, and as they got big enough to leave the den she wished for her freedom even more. Her heart ached for herself and them, Magnus hadn’t even seen his children yet.

After so long she was both worried and frustrated. She wanted to be upset, and she was devastated that he hadn’t shown up. However she still had a bit of hope that was trying to fight in her heart. Part of her realized that the father of her children could be dead, after he’d left her so long ago and she thought him fully gone.. Deathbelle couldn’t handle another abandonment.

Perhaps she had never been slated for a happy ending. She had been so close with Magnus, she’d felt loved and adored for the first time in a long time. She had been eager to raise a family with him, but now she was alone. Again. Maybe it was time to finally give up. Her mind returned to Sirius, the one who she had wanted beside her for all of her days. Now she hadn’t seen him in nearly a year. Iolaire came next, the true love she had with her, and the duty to her Empire she thought to see through. Hannibal had left her as well.

Deathbelle wanted to cry out in frustration and sadness as she wallowed in the sorrow of her heart. An emotion that hadn’t really left her since Archon’s death. The sound that reached her mismatched ears in that moment was not from her lips, but the mourning sound called to her soul. ”Iolaire!” She called out, the mists obscuring much from her lavender gaze. She didn’t are if she couldn’t see, and already she was moving towards the sound.

When she saw the broken body against the ground Deathbelle didn’t stop, her form swiftly closed the distance between them. Belle took the dirtied broken woman into her arms. She didn’t miss the grime and blood, but it never did matter what Io looked like. Deathbelle’s love for her was unconditional forever. ”Io..” She whispered her name as she held her close and worried for the wounds on the surface and below. The woman she knew would never look like this if all was well.

Let her just die. Please... she just wanted to die. Mentally, Iolaire had given up. There was no reason to live without Roan. The emaciated woman, dirty and broken, hadn't stopped berating herself since the time that her husband had taken his last breath. He had gone south because she was sick. It had all been because of her. Now he was dead and gone. His line had ended because she couldn't give him the family that he so desired. This was her fault. She had killed him just as much as the southern sickness that had ended his life. Had it not been for her... had they never met... Curling in on herself, Iolaire sobbed. She had always been so well put together, but there was no semblance of that now. She was not only dirty, she was filthy. Her pelt had lost its sheen. Her eyes were wild and bloodshot. Claws were broken. Pads were rubbed raw. Her coat was torn and stained with sand. She was a mess. Collapsed on the ground in the frigid wasteland of quicksand, Iolaire gave up. If she stayed here, unmoving, eventually the land would eat her up. That would be the end of her. It barely registered that she was being held. Eventually, the warmth sinking into her from the other body was enough to make her feel like something had changed. Pulling herself out of the misery that was her mind, Iolaire looked up. Deathbelle looked down at her, of all wolves. Her mind really had broken if she was capable of making lifelike apparitions. But then Belle spoke and a little more clarity came over the smaller fae. Her brow furrowed and she fought to focus on Deathbelle's face. She sheer concern in her friends features brought a soft whine from Iolaire. Spectre or no, Io buried her face into Deathbelle's chest and sobbed. "Speech"

Deathbelle couldn’t know what was going on, the only facts she knew for sure were Iolaire was hurt and she was alone. She long lost the scent of the Armada, but more alarming was the absence of Roan’s scent. Belle felt her heart grow heavy. She was no stranger to loss and misery, and now holding Io she knew the dainty woman was experiencing both. There was life within her, though she was farther down the dark road than even Deathbelle allowed herself. Iolaire didn’t have pups to live for.

Jade gold eyes looked up to her, barely registering Deathbelle’s violet gaze. Her heart broke again as the ruined woman began to whine softly, realizing who it was that held her, before burying herself into Belle’s speckled fur and cried deeply against her chest. The once Empress held onto Iolaire more tightly, willing her sorrow away as she silently begged for her to return to her. She needed medical attention, physically, emotionally, mentally.. Deathbelle knew that she would do or sacrifice anything to bring life back into her beautiful eyes, the sheen back to her fur, and confidence in her stride.

”The world will not end. We won't let it.” She whispered softly, suddenly struck by the memory of one of their first conversations. They stood on the sigil where she and Archon had wed, it seemed like the Volcano would blot out the sun forever. But Iolaire had looked up to her and said those words, and that had been the moment Deathbelle fell in love with her. Belle held onto her shoulders and wrapped her neck around Io’s protectively. She could cry for as long as she wished, and Deathbelle joined her. They were tears of sorrow for all that was lost, but joy that Io was again in her arms.