She was old - feeling older by the day. Developing a mild arthritis in her paws from too much abuse over too much of her life, the old warrior found her balance effected, if only a little, and the constant ache slid her into depression. No, it wasn't just that, though it was a factor. Alone the pain would have been tolerable. It was the feeling of uselessness, of abandonment, of betrayal that had compounded everything and opened that deep, suffocating black hole. She'd had nothing of stability since her family's pack had been destroyed. She had thought Tortuga could offer her that... but such a short time before it had been passed along to Roman - she'd been happy for some time there, until the disease had destroyed Roman's mind and created the would-be conqueror, the tyrant who had betrayed her covenant with her pack by attempting to lead them into an unjust war. She had finally found what she thought was peace among Solstice's ranks, only to be abandoned by the alpha. Now Solstice was Glaciem, and the name put the fur of her back up. They were asking for trouble, just having that name - but it seemed the Armada pack was to be no more anyway. She had found Drashiel on his trek south and gotten the story from him. She'd respected the young man when he'd been alpha of Fehu, and she respected his decision to merge that pack with his Roman's when they'd produced children, respected him as a father as he protected his children on the long march from the north... and her heart ached for his loss. She had walked with them for a time to add protection as she had conversed with the father, but eventually took her leave to return to the north, to the former pack lands to the hidden grave Drashiel had directed her to. Roman. They'd had their differences, and she suspected the Armada had hated her after Qanik had decried her rule, but Qanik had never stopped loving Roman. She had been like a daughter - as close to her heart as Gossamir, and Ritsuka, and knowing she had died broke Qanik's heart to pieces. If Qanik had made different choices, she would have been there to protect Roman, rather than miles away. More guilt, another burden atop a soul already faltering in the waves. She was Solstice's beta - presumably still was, and there was more guilt there. She'd done nothing since they had made their way north. She had ignored the howls that called the pack together. She'd even ignored her alpha when she'd appeared at her den entrance, faking sickness and sleep when it was only her soul that was sick, her will to live faded. Guilt. Now she was out here, far from their current home, searching out her bolder son. She had done little for her boys, when she should have given them everything. Instead she'd left them to their own devices out here in the north. Miksa... Shtiya... they deserved so much better than she'd given them for a life. Her paw slipped. She caught herself before she was sent tumbling into the crevasse, but her fur bristled in alarm. The unusual warmth of the weather had the snowfalls here rather unstable, even more so than usual. A single misstep on the soggy snow could send her careening into oblivion. Her anxiety for her son increased. Please let her be wrong. Please let the cold scent that led her hear not be his... she'd never been a great tracker and age could be dulling her senses. Let it be that and not that Shtiya had wandered in here... ""

He lay at the bottom of a trench, his legs spaced as if mid run and his head thrown back. The boy was still and silent, his features relaxed and peaceful; if someone were to look at his face and nothing else, it would have been possible to mistake his stillness for slumber. Allowing the gaze to roam, many unsettling things would catch the eye. First and foremost, a small circle of red slowly crept out from under his ear, staining the snow around him. From there it might occur to the onlooker that he was too still, and careful scrutiny of his ribs would confirm the suspicion that no breath fueled a steady rise and fall.

Far above him the final moments before his plunge were readily detected. The snow was disturbed and there were claw marks gouged into the icy lip of the trench - proof that he had fought to live and failed. Death had come quickly. Life had fled the moment he'd reached the bottom. There hadn't been time to consider those he was leaving behind or time to fear for his life. The fall had led straight into darkness and in the blink of an eye, Shtiya was gone.

The scent of blood, sharp and cold, rose suddenly from a crevasse as she traveled along it, and her voice cracked the silence with a cry of helpless fear. The scent carried by the iron tang of blood... Shtiya. Peering below her into the crevasse she could not see his small form, but she could see the red so clearly. "Just hold on, Shtiya! I am coming!" Racing along the edge she looked desperately for a way down, repeating her words achingly below her breath like a mantra, her oversized paw came down on a slushy bit at the edge. For a moment she teetered on the edge, unbalanced but so close to pulling herself back, but the whole edge gave way and sent her tumbling. She blacked out when she hit the ground, but swam through fog and ringing ears to consciousness only a moment later. Groaning she made to sit up, but pain tore through her right foreleg and she very nearly blacked out again. She was no healer, had no knowledge of healing, but as she stared at it through the haze threatening her vision she came to the - very correct - realization that it was badly broken. It didn't matter. Taking more care this time she struggled through the pain to force herself, swaying, onto her three other paws. She ached all over... breathing hurt, so very badly, but she limped heavily to her son's side. What breath she had left was spent on a cry of grief as her nose touched his rapidly cooling body. He was gone. For a moment her mind was lost in the pain and the grief, and she could only curl against his body and shake as she sobbed her loss into his blood-streaked fur, but slowly coalesced into one thought; she could not leave him here alone. Gently grasping his scruff in her jaws, she struggled back to her feet and limped forward in determination, dragging him with her. Moving further and further down the icy gorge, she found nothing but jagged, impossible walls, until the walls had narrowed too far for her to travel further. Dully, she turned the other direction, making her way to the other end. Far, far down, but finally she found a place near the far end of the crack that had crumbled, an avalanche of ice and snow building a steep incline. Her jaws still stubbornly gripped in Shtiya's fur she made her slow, painful way up the incline. Slipping, occassionally sliding back but inexorably making her way up it to the lip of the ice canyon, and pulled herself and her son up onto the flat land of the glacial ice. Her eyes stared dully across the land toward Glaciem. So far to go. So... very far. Swaying on her feet she adjusted her grip and slowly plodded out into the melting snow once again. So very, very far... and her breath was beginning to leave her in gasps that sprayed very fine mists of blood into Shtiya's fur. So far... and she could not carry them both any further. She would not leave him alone. She could not... and she could not go further. Gasping for breath now, she let the boy's body go, and slowly, agonizingly, curled her pale body around him. Holding him close, one last time. And slowly, her eyes closed. The gasping ceased, and her body relaxed. Warm, comforting darkness wrapped about her and she was gone. ""