As Io leaned over him to help behind the ears, he gave his sister a devilish smile. It was her own warning, and it was barely a second in advance, and then he was grabbing her in a set of powerful arms. Arms that were definitely flexible enough to reach behind one's ears. Alas, it was too late for her to realise now.

She landed in the water with a splash, and he was careful to cushion her fall. Grabbing the soap, and wiggling it over the back of her own head. “Best duck your head in to get that soap off” he teased her, splashing some water towards her back. He had no idea how she was going to handle her sudden dip into the cold waters, but he was braced and prepared for anything - and hoping for the best.

"Speech"

One moment she's being nice and doing her sisterly duty, and the next she was being jerked into the cold water alongside Sirius. Iolaire let off a screech of indignation as she splashed into the tub. The cold water bit into her bones and she hissed, curling her neck around to stare daggers at the man while he smiled all the while. He then wiggled the bar of soap through the fur at the back of her head and Io let out a long, "Bahhhh!" She then ducked under the water, her paws sliding over her head as she was submerged to rid it of the clinging suds. While under the water, Io took the opportunity to push to the other side of the bath where she resurfaced once more and stepped out of the water and back onto solid ground. No, she wasn't entirely clean, but she was a far sight cleaner than she had been previously. The water slicked down her coat and one could see just how badly in shape she was. Her hips jutted out like jagged crags. Her shoulders were pronounced due to lack of muscle. Her legs were slender little twigs. From across the room, Io shot her brother a death glare. A life glare? "Well now I'm cold. Thank you so much." Already her teeth were chattering. "Speech"

It wasn’t perfect, but at least she was looking a little better. Some soap and water had touched her coat, and most of the dust had washed free. She did not, however, look very happy with him. That was okay, Sirius was feeling a little pleased with himself as he ducked under to wash off the soap, and stepped out of the water. Shivering a little as he did so.

As he did, he would see her wet coat. The way it clung to her form, which was boney and ragged. His smile dropped away from his face in a heartbeat, and he stared at her. There was frustration in his eyes for a moment, and then the mask was back. A smaller smile fitting on his lips with effort. “Come on, let’s go find a fireplace and warm you up” he said more gently. “I was just trying to wash the cobwebs from your ears.” he said in an attempt to lighten the mood a little again. It was better that she found some comfort. A fire, some food, and a private room. His next idea might just be his worst yet.

"Speech"

Still glaring daggers at Sirius, Io stuck her blue tongue out between her teeth at him rather than spit obscenities. Now she was wet and cold and who knew what that soap was going to smell like on her fur later. She only liked using soaps that she made herself, only... she didn't make soaps anymore. She didn't do much anymore other than fiddle and waste time. That's all she had though, time. Sirius insisted that he was cleaning cobwebs from her ears and Io released a little growl of indignation. "I can hear just fine, thank you!" Like a whirling little banshee, the bony fae pushed from the chamber, leaving puddles of water in her wake. She knew where there was one fire. It was her mother's rule that the fire in the great hall always be kept burning and Artorias held to that rule. A trail of water would lead Sirius to her destination. Unceremoniously, Iolaire threw herself onto the big, bearskin rug in front of the burning fireplace. The warmth soaked into her damp fur and she instantly felt better. No doubt the big dummy would find her sooner or later unless he'd decided to go to bed on his own. With a huff and a bit of muttering, Io curled up in a tight little ball, looking more like a wet rat or sick cat than an actual wolf. "Speech"

The Warlord fought a smile as Io stuck her tongue at him. Showing energy and fire, instead of her strange listlessness. He would take it, even if it did mean she was peeved at him. “Oh good” he teased as she pulled herself from the water, fur dripping onto the stone floor as she walked away. The Warlord shook out his coat, and followed. Unwilling to let her get too far from him.

He let her have some space however, not following too closely. He leaned against the door as Iolaire lay on a great bearskin rug, sitting in front of a burning fire. Somehow, this felt right. He looked to the bearskin rug, and thought of the bear hunter. He let out a soft breath, not thinking too closely on it, not just yet.

After a moment, he moved forward, and settled down beside his sister. Leaning over, he groomed the dampness from her forehead, and cleaning the remaining smudges of soap from her fur .Disgusting, but he didn’t want it to stiffen in her coat. “Io, forgive me.” he whispered softly, and closed his eyes. Naiche and Resin had come to him simply by thinking upon them. So he thought of Roan. he thought of how they had found im, injured from a bear attack that had taken his sister. He thought of how he had watched Io nurse him to health. Of the way they had grown close. Of watching them sit together on Io’s little cottage deck. He thought of Roan at Io’s side, as his sister looked wrecked and ragged from trying every solution she could think of to get pregnant. Of them telling him they wished to travel for her health. Of looking Roan in the eye, and telling him to protect her. Had he done so? Had he given his life for his sister? Roan, Roan, Roan. he thought with all his might She needs to put you to rest, she needs to drain this wound


"Speech"

Darkness. That was all that Roan deserved after his death. He’d failed the love of his life, he’d lied to her and he’d left her. When he died he embraced the midnight sleep and his consciousness dissipated into nothingness. There was no great gathering of family to welcome him, he did not reunite with Dapple, there was only black nothingness.

Until he existed once more.

Roan blinked open his green gaze, finding himself in the presence of two he found painfully familiar. Where his heart had once beat Roan felt a deep aching sorrow. He was dead, emotions should have been beyond him, but as he looked upon the sleeping form of his dear heart Roan felt every bit of emotion he’d forced her to bear when he died. The loss, the betrayal, the despair of being alone.

Then he saw Sirius standing over her. ”I should not be here, Warlord.” The bear killer lamented painfully as his eyes returned to Iolaire’s curled form. Had he finally found his way to hell? Seeing her like this, realizing fully what he had done when he died. Maybe his soul deserved this torture.

Some time later, with all the memories he could muster of Roan flashing past his eye, Seer wondered if he had failed. His sister had fallen to slumber, with the Warlord's tail tucked about her toes. Far too awake to sleep, with Io a new worry sitting heavy on his heart, he watched the fireplace crackle and pop.

And then he was there, the bear hunter watched them with sorrowful eyes. The Warlord stroked a paw gently across the back of one of Io’s ears. Tender, concerned for his sister. “I’m sorry, Roan. I called you here for a reason. She needs something from you, though I know what I will ask will hurt you.” he lifted his head then, meeting the lime green eyes of his brother in law. “She believes that she is dead, that she died when you did. She barely eats, has no care for herself. She’s stuck in limbo, unable and unwilling to move on. She thinks she's dead, so why bother? She will only believe it coming from you. You must lance this wound, and let her hurt, so she can heal, Roan. I am sorry that you passed, I truly am, but Io must have a future.”

"Speech"

Though she had been tired, Iolaire was ever alert. It came with living out in the skull on the ridge for so long. Yes, she had Ila and Ashur to warn her if danger came, but the was an independent woman and relied on herself first and foremost. When the voices began, soft as they were, she was awake. The emaciated fae's eyes pulled open at a rip the very moment that Roan's voice filled the ear. With a cry of alarm and anguish, Iolaire wrenched herself away from the two giant wolves, backing up onto the stone of the hearth until she almost stood within the fire itself. The orange glow illuminated her pelt immensely, making the tiny, fairy wolf look otherworldy for that moment in time.

Green and gold eyes drifted from one wolf to the next in pure disbelief. Had Sirius called Roan here in these strange times? How? And why? Why hadn't Roan ever answered her before? Why hadn't he come to her after all this time? The comment that Sirius made about her future stuck in Iolaire's ears and she gritted her teeth together until they made an audible squeak. "What good is a future when the past consumes so wholly?" She could barely bring herself to look at Roan's handsome, scarred face. "You died. It was my fault. Then I died and it was my fault. None of this is real. Or everything is real." She didn't know what she was saying. Her mind was reeling and her eyes were wide, though there were no tears within them. There were no tears in Iolaire, ever.

"Nothing that anyone says will fix anything that's happened. There's no coming back from the dead." At least she could admit that. It was easier to think that she was dead as well, but deep down inside, Iolaire knew that she was not. Accepting that she and everyone in the world was already dead would make their true, inevitable deaths easier. Wasn't it more kind to herself to just accept that they were dead and gone?

Roan was there... but he wasn't. She had buried his lifeless corpse. He was dead. Dead and gone. Dead and here. Still dead. Always dead. And she... was not. Iolaire had lived this whole time. Lived through that death, that loss, that heartache and insanity. It wasn't much of a life, but she had lived it. There was pain in the silver and shadow man and she could see it on his troubled features. It was difficult to be kind when in such shock, but she tried. "Go back to your rest, Roan. Do not be troubled by thoughts of me. I will survive as I always have."

Alone.

Pushing away from the fire, the tiny woman slid from the hall and out of the castle. She needed to be alone. Leaving Sirius and Roan behind in the stone keep, the moment that Iolaire's paws touched grassy earth, she ran and ran and ran and didn't stop until her body gave her no choice.

"Speech"