no time to bleed

Diarmuid always preferred traveling at night. He could move freely now, without interruption. The shadows masked his movements, and hid him from watchful eyes. Who knew what sort of wolves lurked in the distance? While it was doubtful that enemies of the Xanilovs - or of Old Ebony - had traveled this far, it was always a possibility that kept him wary. Each step that he took through the thicket was taken with precise caution. It was the sort of caution that most wolves could not possess even if they tried. Years of training had taught him to move with such grace, an alarming amount for a male of his size. His steps were nearly as quiet as a mouse as he moved his paws through the thick grasses, ambling forward quietly.

He thought he'd caught a trace of one of the children's scents earlier, but it had been too faint to tell for certain. Perhaps he had just been hoping it was so. A quiet, barely audible exhalation of breath fell from his lips as his crimson gaze searched the night. Diarmuid had deduced that the children would likely continue in the general direction they had been heading in, not turn back toward home - so he, too, would travel the same path in search of them.

Guilt bore down on him, heavy and grating, and he was not ashamed to admit that he felt as though he had failed them. He had promised Valeriya that he would keep her children safe, and he had lost track of them. It had not been on purpose - he would never leave them without being commanded, until his dying breath - but it didn't mean that he was not at fault still. He had not found any sign of the other guardsmen, either, and it was all he could do to hope that they had managed to keep with the party. The thought of them being alone was uncomfortable - to say the very least. He could imagine now the sort of words she might have for him if he returned, empty handed. 'I don't know where they are,' he would say, and she would reply with.. well, he didn't know. All he knew was that he missed Valeriya deeply - as much as he missed her children. Being without them was difficult and far from ideal for him. Not finding the children simply wasn't an option.

All he could do, now, was continue on. Nothing would stop his search, perhaps not even death; not that he'd ever been one to believe in an afterlife, but if there was one he was certain he would find some way to serve the Xanilov family the best he knew how even in that realm. The thought brought a half-smile to the scarred beast's face, a rare expression caught in a shaft of moonlight as it glimmered from the heavens above. It wasn't long before the smile faltered, determination once again taking over as he plunged deeper into the thicket and continued his cautious journey onward.

note: set in gambit briar