That morning would begin as most of his days would. Gavroche would wake early, giving affections in the form of kisses and nuzzles to each of his children and Bellamy before he set out with James on a sort of patrol of his own. The tiny winged man had become amused with the concept, checking the various herb patches he, Lucette, and Fenix had started throughout the territories owned by Ethne. It was the day of final harvests, after all, it wouldn’t be long before the frosts came and started to take the lives of the flora in their lands. Gavroche found joy in the task. He had always loved plants, the act of helping soothe hurts instead of adding to them. There was enough pain and suffering in the world without his jaws contributing to those who were suffering. It was something his cousin, Melanthios had appreciated, and even Bellamy, despite her quick to fight nature, had a soft spot for his gentle heart. By her side, he belonged, feeling at peace with the world and the events that had brought him there. There would always be good and bad… but if you could find the good, and find a way to get a happy ending, then the struggles to get there would be worth it. There had been less plants ready to be harvested than Gavroche had hoped. It was disappointing, and the winged man worried at the lightweight of his bag that it might be enough to replenish Ethne’s stores for winter. Especially with reckless souls like his mate and those who were diligently patrolling their borders. That was what encouraged him to leave Ethne’s lands on his own. He said his farewells to James, unaware that, when he parted ways with his companion, it would be the last time they would ever see each other. Such thoughts were not something that Gavroche ever entertained. He was not naive enough to believe life did not end, but what was the point of fearing the end, when it could prevent you from enjoying what you had while you were alive? Delicate paws of the winged man lead him into the territory just outside of Ethne’s own. Despite the sun being bright and shining when he left the cave behind the falls that morning in this territory the bright light was choked out, slipping through the thick canopy of grapevine in such small amounts that it was noticeably darker here. His green gaze held a faint glow in the dim light, ears twitching as he heard the occasional scurry of something through the grass. There was a breeze, and with the “roof” above this place, it seemed to only make the territory feel colder. Gavroche fluffed out his coat and feathers. He was never really fond of cold… but now that he was older he was sure he liked it even less. It would be alright though. He’d make his way to God’s Garden near the territory of the Hallows, gather the rest of the herbs the pack would need, and head home. He would be snuggled up next to his beloved and with his children before nightfall. Gavroche had made it through about half of the cathedral when the familiar, metallic smell of blood invaded his nose. The tiny man slowed, caution entering his heart as he tried to be more mindful of the noise he was making. With big cats drawing close to their territory, and even daring to come into it, there was a chance it could be from the kill of another predator, and Gavroche would rather not tangle with them if he could help it. He moved through the trees, keeping alert for signs of the kill or the one that made it. ------------------------------------ I hear the voices say you're never gonna make it And you're not strong enough to cut through all the tension These words keep rattling my soul But I know… "Speech" 'Thought.'

Blood flowed in thick rivers. The metallic tang of iron filled the pale pink nares of the giant man and he relished in the sweet scent. His prey lay spread out before him, more bloody pulp than actual creature. He'd done a number on her. The woman had run from him. What kind of wolf would he be if he didn't give chase? It was in his nature and Barbatos was a creature of instinct through and through.

For any coming upon the scene, it would be difficult to tell what the flayed creature had even been. That was, if Batos hadn't severed the woman's head and placed it upon a nearby rock. She'd been pretty, so why waste her good looks? Once the fae had been pristinely white, now she was nothing but red. The contrast in colors was pleasing to the grey and white man and he hummed a little tune as he placed a paw on either side of the corpses ribcage, pushing outward until they cracked and shattered. That same paw dipped within and came out with the wolf's heart which he then discarded over his shoulder without a second thought.

A shift in the breeze accompanied the shuffle of paws on the cathedral floor and the hulking wolf's pale, glacial blue eyes instantly flicked in that direction. Batos noted the small, winged creature standing just a little ways off. A low growl pulled from the beasts wide chest like a landslide and he turned his full attention to the tiny wolf. Blood coated the brute thickly, especially around his face and chest. That tended to happen when one was feeding. Stiff legged, the murderous man moved towards the peeping Tom.

"It seems that you've made a mistake, little pigeon," the brute growled in deep, rumbling tones. Though cannibalism wasn't rare, it was generally frowned upon. Batos had no idea where this woman belonged, nor did he care. By the time that someone found her, he would have been long gone. That was usually the case, anyway. Ah, but now he'd been seen. Closer and closer the bloodied giant came. A pink tongue flicked out to lap blood from his lips. Not to clean them, but simply to taste. Icy eyes widened for a moment, excitement and pure insanity flashing within. A grin split the wolf's maw and he purred to the small wolf. "Better run, little bird." Ah, he did love a good chase.


"Batos"

The feeling of foreboding he had… Gavroche hated it. The scent of blood and gore in the air grew stronger by the minute, and the winged male’s fur stood on end. He tried to pad lightly, but perhaps fear made it so his steps were heavier than he thought. His ears lowered, eyes widened as he scanned the area… and then he saw it. The head of a she wolf, stained red with her own blood. A horrified gasp left his lips and Gav recoiled as though he’d been struck. What beast would do such a thing? His heart fluttered in his chest, the rapid beating increasing tenfold as he realized he needed to leave, to run, to get to Bellamy and the pack to warn them. But no sooner had he turned on his paws did Gavroche come face to face with the woman’s killer. A nightmarish male stood before him, as tall as his beloved Bellamy herself, perhaps taller… Gavroche instinctively stepped back, away from him. Blood and gore covered his front… had he… had he been eating the woman? The way he looked made it seem so, and it made Gavroche’s stomach flip. Thank goodness he hadn’t eaten anything before he left, otherwise he might not have been able to hold it down. His ears pressed flat against his skull as realization washed over him. He was small and fast… but there was no way he’d be able to outrun this man, was there? He wouldn’t be going home… not to Bells… not to their children… Gavroche swallowed hard. He’d walked into the home of a killer… one close to home. Gavroche steeled his courage. If this was how he was going down it would not be running like prey. He dug his claws into the soil and tossed his head back and howled with all his might for the pack. He just prayed that someone was close enough to hear him, to come bring such a dangerous man to justice. If this was the last thing he would be able to do for his family, then so be it! "Speech" 'Thought.'

The panic in the little wolf's eyes was divine and Batos' believed that he could taste fear on the air. He expected the winged man to run for his life, but before he did that, the dumb bastard called for backup. Batos tsked and rolled his eyes. He wouldn't get to take his time or have any sort of fun. Killing at leisure was the best part, but he supposed if he was being forced to rush... Fine.

The little wolf ran after howling and Batos gave chase. The difference in size was comical. The monochromatic brute's stride was long whereas the smaller wolf's stride made his little legs disappear in a blur. Those wings would surely get in the way and slow him down, so Batos took his time, using his trajectory to steer his prey in the opposite direction that he'd called in. Make them work for it. It would give him a smidge more time too.

Batos gained on the winged wolf, growling loudly juuuust to let him know where he was. Jaws snapped on the end of the fleeing man's tail and he spat the fur away, but the action had caused the little brute to stumble. Batos dove forward, his big body crashing hard atop the other man. One huge paw pushed onto the back of the wolfs head, his claws digging in. Batos pushed the little bird's face into the dirt, but was it to humiliate him or to muffle his oncoming screams?

Jaws opened wide and clamped down hard on the thickest part of wing. Using his paws to keep the wolf in place, Batos stretched his powerful neck, applying pressure to the wing until the black and orange wolf's body could hold out no more. The wing separated from the wolf's body and for the second time that day the rich scent of blood filled the air. Batos pulled and pulled until it separated entirely, then spat it aside. The flailing and screaming mattered little and, ever the completionist, Batos moved on and gave the same treatment to the opposite wing.

With both wings removed and laying on either side of the tiny wolf, there wasn't much else to pull off. So, Batos spread his jaws wide and clamped down on the back of his prey's head and neck. Muscles in his neck and jaws flexed as he ever so slowly bit harder and harder, his grip getting tighter and tighter. Batos could feel the skull of the brute squeaking against his fangs, but that sound was drowned out by the squelching crunch as the bones of the skull gave way. The little bastard was as good as dead, though the grey and white brute was a little disappointed. The woman had put up more of a fight.

With the skull crushed, Batos used one big paw to flip the dismembered wolf onto his back. With practiced ease, his teeth slid through fur, skin, muscle and flesh, laying open the wolf's chest right down to the bone. Just as he had with the woman, Batos spread the ribcage open wide, making a happy little sound as they cracked loudly. Reaching into the body, Batos gobbled down the heart and the liver, both nutrient rich and delicious. Had to make the hunt worthwhile, you know.

Once his meal was finished, Batos prepared to leave, but not before he did one last thing. With a twist of his jaws and a couple of well placed bites, he tore the little wolf's head clean off. The head he placed upon a rock and he leaned the wings up behind it so that it looked like the head might fly away. A little chuckle escaped the man and he left the bloodied clearing with a jaunty step. He was terribly funny, but he doubted anyone else was clever enough to appreciate his humor.

"Batos"

Corbin had missed out on so many fun explorations while he was blind and he’d been doing his best lately to make up for it.  He wasn’t too far from the pack land, just a short way into the forest having a great time when a sound pierced the air.  That was Dad, calling for aid!  Corbin ran, ready to fight off any beast or face any natural disaster.  Whatever danger Dad was in he’d help him!

Corbin had been close but, not close enough and so he’d get to live another day.  There was a mess on the ground, a corpse of some unlucky creature.  He didn’t look close though, not giving it attention as he spotted Dad’s wings and soon made out the face.  The sight was unreal enough it took a second to soak in.  Dad’s body wasn’t behind his head, the head was on the rock.  Corbin stared in horror, mind frozen from logical thought.  His mind was trying to make him speak, to ask his dad to prove this was some sick joke and he was really ok.  Somehow it couldn’t be real.
It was real.

Logical hard truth attacked the naïve child’s wishes.  The more he tried to deny it the more real it was.  The fight in his head seemed to go on for ages but it was hardly a few beats of his heart.  Slowly, another sickening realization started to float into his mind.  Did he dare turn to look at the corpse again?  Corbin shivered, clenching his eyes shut and telling himself desperately to wake up from this nightmare.  It couldn’t be real and if he didn’t look it wouldn’t be.  
He was still staring at his dad’s head and wings.  

It was so hard, turning his head had never been harder.  If the amount of blood he’d ignored around the head and wings hadn’t been enough then there was plenty to show off at the body.  This was too much.  Corbin stumbled once as he walked to his father’s remains.  It wasn’t even a simple death but one that had been caused by torture.  

He hadn’t wanted to see and now Corbin could see nothing else.  His paws stepped in the blood around his father's body, not noticing how it seeped onto his paws.  “Da-“ the word choked off at hardly more than a whisper.  His chest heaved as if he’d cry, his breathing had deepened but somehow the sobbing was held at bay.  He tried to speak again but nothing came out.  He looked from the body back to the head.

The world was swirling around as his mind tried to accept what his eyes told him.  Which part was even more the dad remains, the one to focus on?  Which part was where he went to for that last touch for that, for that what?  Corbin’s breath broke and a sob erupted followed by his own howl filled with horrible pain.

Shivering, the boy stumbled back to his father's head and with a keening whine gently picked it up, the muzzle pointed down so he couldn’t see his father's sightless eyes.  The head was carried back to the body, resting it near the neck joint.  Corbin turned planning to get the wings, the taste of his father's blood soaking his mouth. Dizzyness overcame him and his stomach had enough.  Corbin wretched up bits of food remains and mostly bile from his stomach.  When done he took another step but looking at those wings the boy found himself trying to wretch again but there was nothing else in him to throw up.

It felt like ages but he headed back to the wings, to repeat the process of carrying them one at a time back to the body. Mentally exhausted Corbin lay down next to his smaller father. “Dad…” a soft keened whine, laying his head near his father’s, trying to ignore how it wasn’t attached to the body.  He should leave, get away from seeing this, and yet he couldn’t leave that corpse.  The moment he left this spot it would be that much more real.  Tears flowed down his cheeks, choked-off sobbing happening in random bursts as memories of happy days with Dad kept coming to mind.
He'd kill whoever did this.

"Family"

The call that rings out from the cathedral has Haydée dropping everything she is doing to race toward it. It was an alarm, issued to all of the pack from her father and, being Heir, that means that the young girl needs to take the call very seriously. While she was further away than her brother, the young heir still arrives shortly after Corbin. However, the moment the metallic scent of blood hits her nostrils, the small girl slowed her pace knowing that, by the amount of copper that permeated the air, she was too late. Fear begins to squeeze her heart as she nears the area where her father had called from.

It is easy to miss her small form as she comes to stop next to one of the large oaks, the grapevines that choke the once massive trunk easily hiding her from sight. Emerald eyes brim with tears as she watches Corbin stand in front of their father’s dismembered head and wings and her heart breaks into a million pieces at his soft, keening whine. So far, in her short life, Hay has only seen the kindness in others and the joy and love that brings out. Now, as she takes in her tiny father’s mutilated corpse, the white ribs that should never have been visible now cracked wide open, the girl realizes the darkness that the world also offers.

Hidden from sight, tears silently cascading down her cheeks, Haydée leans heavily into the tree as she understands what true evil looks like. It is obvious a wolf did this but only a deprived, mad, sick, hateful individual could do this to her tiny, sweet, loving father. He had never harmed anyone in his life, only seeking to heal others and this is the end that he is met with. Emerald eyes track Corbin as he lifts their father’s head from the rock, moving it to the flayed body to replace it near the stump of his neck. Right there, a part of Hay dies with her father; the naïve part that said all wolves are friends she just hasn’t met is laid to rest with the remains of her father.

A hardness enters her heart along with determination to never allow such an individual to harm another member of her family. Silently, Hay grieves for Gavroche and the time that has been stolen from them, will her heart lurches with each dry heave that Corbin issues. She stands as a quiet sentinel, watching over Corbin while allowing him time with their father’s corpse. Her raven-hued brother replaces the items stolen from their father, gently laying them next to his body before laying down next to their sire’s dead corpse. Anger has begun to burn hotly in her veins at the whole, shitty situation and she finally shrugs herself off of the tree.

Without a word, she reveals herself and softly pads over to where Corbin lays, moving around him so she can block out the macabre sight from his eyes. Tears still roll down her cheeks, she lays in front of him and offers her brother’s cheek a gentle nuzzle before licking away some of his tears. Softly, voice cracking with emotions, she says, “Corbin, mom is on her way. Why don’t you come with me? Mom will take care of dad. He… he won’t be alone. I promise.” Haydée tries to be strong for him, for the all of their family that will now have to try and navigate this world without Gavroche beside them.


"Haydée Kedieo"

That morning had started off a good one. She woke feeling rested, eager to start the day. But not before a bit of nuzzling and loving with her mate. Gavroche, for his tiny size, had so much love to give. He helped Bellamy feel grounded. Feel stable. She was grateful for him, for their children. The existence they had now in Ethne felt perfect. There were hiccups, sure, Saga being kidnapped, Corbin going blind, Hay almost being snatched by a tiger… but they had always bounced back. Came back stronger. Bellamy was sure that their family could overcome anything together, no matter what. Her family was her strength, and she felt that Gavroche was the cornerstone of that strength. The one that held them all together. She left for her patrols with a smile on her face, praying that the day would pass quickly so that she could come back and lay with her mate and children at the end of the night. The patrol had been pretty standard. Refreshing scent borders, finding no sign of big cats or anything of the like. Ethne was safe. Secure. With the help of the other combatants that had been patrolling she was sure that no danger would slip into their lands. But perhaps she had allowed herself to feel too secure. She had been blind to the fact danger could still lurk close to home… and when the call of alarm arose from Gavroche, Bellamy felt her blood run cold. The call came from outside Ethne lands… What was he doing outside the lands? Alone? Panic began to creep in, a wave of cold washing over the woman as she broke into a run. It would take her time to reach him… she just prayed, Divinities above she prayed that someone else got there before she did… Bellamy would get her wish, though not the way she wanted. She could smell the heavy stench of blood in the air, even passing by the first mutilated corpse. She realized it wasn’t Gavroche and kept going, her heart hammering in her chest as tears pricked her eyes. Bellamy hadn’t been afraid like this in years… The thought of something happening to Gav, the sweet natured little healer, the one who only ever wanted to help, to see the good in others, rather than cause harm to others… shivers ran down her body as she kept praying, praying against all odds that her mate would be alright. But it wasn’t enough. She saw her children first, slowing her steps. Her ears lowered, her gaze falling to what was before them… and then… She saw Gavroche. Her heart felt as though it immediately shattered. Like glass that had been struck with a huge rock she could feel the pieces fall, her breath caught in her throat as she took the last few steps forward. She was in disbelief, her gaze never leaving her mate. Bloodied. Torn apart. The evil of the world was always something Bellamy had known about, but she had tried so hard to keep it away from someone as innocent as Gav. She felt like she wasn’t breathing anymore, her heat sinking so low in her chest she was sure she had lost it. The tears that had formed before now slipped down her cheeks. She couldn’t bring herself to speak… What words could she possibly say now? She knew that they would need to find the murderer and avenge Gav, but in that moment, it was all she could do just to try and gather herself together. She stopped completely, squeezing her eyes closed. How could she be strong for her children when she couldn’t even be strong for herself? "Speech" 'Thought.'