He knew that he should have been dead already. By some miracle or his own tenacious will, Noir drug himself away from the place he’d been mauled. He didn’t know where he was going, just away, after the crowd had left him there to die. His dark fur was covered in his own blood, though he’d landed a few hits of the purple monster so his was mingled there too. Despite his foreboding doom, Noir did not regret any choices he had made. Two attempted murders now sat under his belt and he wouldn't have changed a thing.

Strange that as his vision grew foggy that he would return to a time when he was young. The fires that almost burned Abaven to the ground, his attempt on his half sister’s life. He did wonder if things would have been different had he succeed, or never been caught. That was something he would nver know, he had to assume that no matter what things would have ended like this.

He was gasping fir breath as he found himself under the fruit trees, only just realizing he was crossing into another pack’s territory as he drug himself along.

Although patrolling wasn't one of her duties, she'd taken to wandering the edges of the territory occasionally while her children napped with Thalia. It made her feel safer. Avalon was idyllic and peaceful, but she still had memories of Abaven's tragedies. Things were clearer now, and in some ways, as the fog lifted... it was worse. She experienced the grief all over again. Acrid smoke in her nose and lungs, the thicket burned to ash. Cherry red lava spilling down Mount Vulkan, coming to claim so many lives. No matter how lovely things were, there was always part of her that would be ready to have it snatched away in an instant. Which is why, when she came upon him, she had the strangest feeling - as if she had slipped through time. Suddenly she was small again. Theory stumbled, then righted herself. Her eyes careened crazily from side to side, and she had the thought to call for someone. In fact, her mouth almost formed the word: "Sh - !" In another lifetime, she would have called for Shaye. The closest thing she had to a mother. But Shaye was long gone, and she was alone with all of her ghosts. Instead, her strangled call to her mother sounded like a curse. So she finished it that way: "Shit." "Got yourself into a bind you couldn't fight or talk your way out of?" Theory said hoarsely, coming closer but staying at a good distance. He was injured, but he'd always been unpredictable. She wouldn't call for Corbie - if she did, Thalia would come, and the children would toddle along behind her. They couldn't see this. "Speech"

He was barely moving, he couldn’t feel anything but pain, but he felt like he had to keep going. There was no real reason, he’d dragged himself away from danger, he’d lost a huge amount of blood. He was going to die soon no matter where he wound up. Perhaps he would speed up that fact if he kept going, trailing his lifeblood along the way. What he didn’t expect was that familiar voice in his ear as he crawled under the fruiting trees.

Foggy value and lavender eyes looked up to see his sister, a form he thought was long gone by now. He squinted as he lifted his head, was she a ghost coming to guide him to the afterlife? ”Obviously.” He answered, immediately regretting that decision as he started to cough up bloody phlegm.

She should be more effected by this. She should care. In fact, she should be calling for a second healer (this job would require many paws if they had any chance of bringing him back from the brink). Theory had always, at her heart, considered herself a good soul, despite the wayward path her life had taken her. Losing Abaven was a millstone she would wear for the rest of her life. It had come at great cost, but now she had what she hoped Rhyme and Shaye had always dreamed for her: love and a family of her own. It was all she wanted for her own children now. Her children. Her children were safe and sleeping here. Theory's stomach bottomed out and felt impossibly hollow. He couldn't do anything. Not like this. He was so clearly going to die soon - her years as a healer told her as much. Too many vital arteries had been torn. This was the kind of fight you couldn't claw your way back from. Would it be a mercy to kill him? Did he deserve mercy? Her children were safe and sleeping here. Poem had been a child once, too. His spiteful answer sealed his fate. A brat, until his dying breath. Theory steeled her resolve and stepped neatly around him to grab him roughly by the scruff. She was surprised by how little he weighed, but she supposed she was the same. Life had whittled them down to the quick in their age, but she was set on spending many years yet watching her children grow. His time was numbered by the minutes, soon the seconds. She took him just far enough back over the border that he lay clearly on the other side of Avalon territory. When she let him go, she tossed him roughly to the ground and leaned down close to whisper: "You will die alone. Loved by no one. Missed by no one." Theory turned and walked back to the other side of the border to watch his chest stop rising and falling. She would bury him, if only to avoid any questions, and she would go back to her den and bury her face in Thalia's shoulder and cry so quietly that their children would stay fast asleep. Her children were safe. "Speech"

The light in his eyes were obviously fading as the moments went on, Noir had accepted his fate. He wasn’t fighting, he wasn’t about to beg Theory to help him. Though he knew she was one of the few that likely could have. Something deep inside of him didn’t want her help though, and that pride would be the seal of his fate. He was facing death and he would do so with what dignity was left.

He started to protest as Theory stepped around him and grabbed a hold of his scruff, he had no idea what she was doing. There weren’t enough faculties left for him to realize that he was within pack lands. She dropped him unceremoniously and he groaned with pain as more blood trickled from his dark lips.

Though her words would likely make her feel better they had no real effect on Noir. He had never truly known love, even when he had been surrounded by it when they were puppies. He’d never been one to value sentimental feelings so he cared not if he was missed. He’d created progeny that littered the world here and there, and he’d lived life to his own desire and pleasure. There were no regrets as he watched her walk away and everything slowly went black.

-exit via death-