The Warlord Walked slowly to the central point of his pack. He still felt stiff and sore from the sickness that had taken over his body. He was healing, slowly, and feeling his age this day. He knew he had done little in the pack lately. He had so much he needed to catch up on, Supervise… he needed to spend time with his new grandkids. He needed to get the pack fit and healthy once more, but the how evaded him.

He reached the obelisk, the central point of the pack. He rested a paw against the cool stone. His eyes glancing towards a name graved on the other side of the rules. A memorial. He brushed a paw across it, brushing dust from the notch. Resin it read. He sighed softly, and wondered if he would ever know if he should be adding his sister's name to the list. Where was Io, would she ever return?

He shook his head, knowing his thoughts did him no good, and made his way to the firepit. He tossed wood into the center, and began the tedious job of whittling up a flame. It wasn’t often the fire went out, but with the sickness in the pack...


"Sirius Fatalis"

"The thing about plagues is that strength doesn't matter." A gruff voice from across the darkness called out to the man as he built the fire. "The strong are just as susceptible as the weak. An equalizer, truly." It seemed that Sirius was just as powerless against it as the rest of the world. It was a pity. Resin had never held ill will towards the man. Stepping out of the darkness and towards the fire, the ash and obsidian woman approached. "Sirius," she greeted gruffly. He looked tired and worn, but he was alive and in much better shape than many he'd seen. Her singular sulfur gaze shifted to her own mark etched in the obelisk. "You've called me here, I see." Dark ears shifted forward. "What weighs upon your mind?" If he needed help or guidance, she would supply it while she was able. One could never tell when the world would shift and she would be sucked away into nothingness again. "Resin"

He startled at the sudden, unexpected sound of a voice. The familiarity of it pricked at him, but it couldn’t be… he turned slowly, staring into the darkness the voice had spoken from. His paws still on the slowly rising smoke. “A bitter truth.” He said, narrowing his eyes into the darkness, and then the woman stepped forward. Her grey form as familiar as the lay of his pack lands. “Resin.” he said, swallowing hard. Resin was dead, she had fallen to madness, and been killed by invaders as she sought to save those that she loved - or perhaps just to lash out in the madness. Who could say? But she had protected those she had loved all the same. That was Resin, a wolf who gave her life for those she loved.

He blinked, still struggling to believe it was true. He stepped closer, reaching out a paw to touch her cheek. Feeling a surprising solidness beneath his paw. He blinked again, feeling the emotions threaten to cascade over him. “How?” he whispered, before she called his attention to the Obelisk. “Perhaps I did.” with this sickness came many strange things. He could not even say for certain if this was reality. “Many things, Resin. That I am still here when so many I loved are not.” His thoughts flitted again to Io. To Naiche, to Resin herself, and others that had left, if not through death, then by their own choice.


"Sirius Fatalis"

Sirius moved forward, a look of disbelief on his face. For this unspoken question, Resin didn't have an answer either. She simply knew that she was here and that was enough. She would use the time that she had to do what she felt needed to be done. She would bring comfort to those that had mattered to her in life. That was why she was here with the fanged man now. One paw reached out to rest upon her cheek and Resin allowed him to do so. She was solid enough, though there was an unnatural give to her flesh. Push too hard and his paw would likely go straight through her like claws through the slush of a thawing lake. He asked how and she simply shook her head, unable to answer. She did give in to a moment of affection and lean into his rough paw pads, however. Sirius spoke about those that were gone while he remained. A soft exhale left the one-eyed fae though her singular gaze was hard as ever. It's natural state, of course. "The fate of the strong, unfortunately. The strong live to see others die, disperse, perish. All you can do is continue to remain the pillar that holds the rest together." That was what she had done her entire life and she expected the Armada man to do the same. "Resin"

He felt her lean against his resting paw, and tears threatened to escape him. He swallowed again, hard. Pushing away the sensation as best he could. He couldn’t bring himself to move his paw, as through the link helped to tether her form to this earth. As through, if he let go, he would lose her for a second time.

He gave a small, sad smile at her words. “You were strong, and yet you left us anyway. It seems the world is not so even as all that.” He said. He wished strength had a greater part it in - he would use his own strength to keep death at bay, if he had that power.

He closed his eyes, feeling the skin of her cheek beneath his paw. I… have to ask. Iolaire. Is she… with you?” would he have to add his sister's name to that list, and lose another pillar of strength and love that he wanted only to hold onto? He closed his eyes, because he knew her answer held the power to push the tears past what he could contain. He did not wish for her to see him cry, not if this was the last time he saw her.


"Sirius Fatalis"

The way that he worked her own power against her brought an actual chuckle to the woman, lips curling back to flash serrated teeth for a moment. "Strong yes, but I fulfilled my purpose in the only way that I was able to. All life ends eventually. I was glad to die protecting what was mine." She had saved her family by eradicating a good number of the saber toothed cats and dires that had attacked the castle. There wasn't a thing that she would change about that night. As the conversation shifted, Resin was surprised that he asked after Iolaire. Did no one truly know of her whereabouts? "Gods, no." The woman shook her head and finally raised a paw to lower Sirius' own massive appendage back to the ground. She left her paws over his as they rested on solid earth, however, just to ease whatever tension he may have felt about it. "Iolaire is in The Hallows as we speak. She is... not well." Another shake of head was given and the woman's brows drew together. "Roan died. She couldn't save him and her mind is... thin. Gone. She's far from the same wolf,, but she still lives." A soft huff left the fae and the bare smile that she possessed pushed the scarred edges of her maw upwards. "She's teaching my children how to speak Romanian. Don't worry about her too much." Casting her gaze about the Armada lands, Resin shifted her head to gesture at the expanse. "What has happened here? There is no news on the other side. There isn't much of anything." What had depressed him so? "Resin"

“I understand, and your sacrifice will never be in vain.” the Warlord was tied to Resin’s family. Ties of love and family. That didn’t mean there wasn’t much he would give to have her back with them. As for his question on Io… He peeked an eye open again at her vehement answer. Feeling the shake of her head through his raised paw.

She also raised a paw of her own, and gently lowered his back to the ground. He let her, with a rueful smile. He was left with the comforting feel of her own pad over his. Motherly, in her own way. His brows creased in concern as she spoke of Io, and the state she was in. The loss of Roan… that was bad news. He wanted his sister to be happy. Hearing how badly she was taking it… his thoughts moved to how he had been when he thought his lifelong partner taken from him. He could understand how hard that could be. He frowned. “I will go see her.” he said. He didn’t know what comfort he could offer her, but he had to try.

“The Armada… has taken badly to the sickness. Some have started to heal, so I take comfort in hoping there will be an end to its hold on us. Let’s see… I know Briar will go to the Hallows to be with Art once she reaches adulthood. Asla has taken her broad and left to see the world. Naiche… passed on.” he clenched his paw into the earth, knowing she would feel the way it tensed. “Aure has a brood of his own now, and Mortis is in love. Though he believes he is hiding it from me.” Life moved on, new wolves were born, and others gone.


"Sirius Fatalis"

Sirius shared his heartfelt words, stating that her sacrifice would never be in vain and the woman smiled gently once more. She knew. Resin had given her all for her family and she was content. Sirius would do the same, had he been in her place. She knew it. Once they began speaking of Iolaire, he decided that he would go to visit her. "She'll think that you're dead as well. Somehow this is now the afterlife for her. She died when Roan died." Resin shook her head, the thick, obsidian ruff of her pelt swaying lightly with the action. She could understand an addled mind when under such a heavy weight, but Iolaire had always been so strong, despite her size. News of the Armada came. Death in the form of Naiche. Departures. Births. Love. Liquid gold poured from the fae's lone eye, spattering on the grass as she nodded. Even the dead were affected by the madness in the world and when she was gone, that gold would remain. She looked down at the spatterings on the firelit grass. "And so the world moves on as it should, Sirius. We do what we can and protect those that we love when they need." She hoped that their talk was alleviating whatever anxiety that he had built up. "Resin"

Dead or not, Sirius knew that he would have to try. It was worth taking a trip to the Hallows regardless, to see how Art and the pack were faring after the illness. He had no doubt that they had been struck by it too. But… he would think of them later, for now he would savour this time with Resin. Despite his desires, he knew it would be brief. Of course, the Warlord would think ten years too brief.

He watched as a splattering of gold hit the ground, wondering if ghosts could be sick. “Sometimes I fear it moves too quickly for me. Alas, I do what I can, and mourn the times i’m too late.” he paused, and then gently shook her paw off of his. Only so that he could reach forward, and grab the other woman into an embrace. “If you have the power, you are always welcome in my dreams, Resin. You are a mother to me, more than the one who birthed me ever was. I wish…” he shook his head. It didn’t matter what he wished. He had learnt already that the world did not bend to his whims.

"Sirius Fatalis"

At least Sirius finally seemed resigned to the fact that he couldn't control every aspect of life. Wolves came and went. Family came and went. Life ended and began. All that he could do what support who he had while he had them and if they appreciated it, so be it. Sirius shook off her paw and pulled the woman into a firm embrace. Alive Resin would have stiffened, but dead Resin had nothing to hold back. She leaned against the larger wolf, allowing him to hold her for as long as he wished. For as long as he could. His next words tightened the stoic old fae's throat. He invited her into his dreams, sharing sentiments that she never imagined she would hear from him. Sirius had grown and it showed. "If it's within my power, perhaps we will see one another again." One of the few things that Resin could feel on the earthly plane was the strange pull in her being when it was time to go. It was against her will and she never knew how long it would take to complete. Sometimes she was gone in the blink of an eye. Other times she faded out gradually. "I don't have much time," she warned him before reaching up with one paw to draw the giant man's head downward. She then placed her forehead against his in her own show of love and respect. "Do what needs to be done. Stay strong for those that you love and see them through this long night, Sirius." Her corporeal form was beginning to thin and the embrace between the giants was thinning. Sirius, still alive and whole was slipping through her and she could no longer feel his touch. And then she was gone. Blinked out of existence, as though she'd never been there. Only the telltale gold on the grass proved what had been. "Resin"

“That’s all I can ask.” The Warlord said softly, knowing it to be the truth. He would look for her in his dreams, he knew. And after this? He would be much more inclined to listen. Knowing that the dead could still exist in some form, in some beyond. It was a surprising comfort to the old man.

She said the very words he had been dreading, and he held her tightly for just a moment longer, and then allowed her to pull his head down. She placed a kiss against his brow, and his eyes filled. Holding her gaze for a moment, feeling the loss and grief welling inside of him. He knew this would hurt, but it was worth it. It was worth it to see her again. “I will, Mother.” He said softly, his voice trembling, and she was beginning to fade. He could see it happening before his eyes. Eyes that were losing their clarity with the tears pushing free of his hold. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear them and glean this last glimpse of her. She no longer felt firm beneath the parts of them that touched, and then quite suddenly, she was gone. He tossed back his head and let loose a keening howl of loss. Pressing his paw against the gold that lay in the earth. The last part of her left behind, staining the toes of his paw.

"Sirius Fatalis"