Fidelias had found his mother curled up with Domari that morning, both cold and unmoving by the remains of a fire. He wasn't a child any longer, and had immediately known even as he approached that they were gone. He had grieved - was grieving still - but he couldn't let the grief consume him. He was alone now in Valhalla, but loneliness had never much bothered him. His mother's absence, though, would leave a gap in Valhalla that would affect more than just him. She had been a skilled warrior, as had Domari, two of the most experienced in the pack. Their deaths did not leave Valhalla vulnerable, but it was a vulnerability, and left them weaker. He would need to take up her legacy - it was what she would have wanted - and better learn to fight as she had. Next to that duty, what did his reticence around other wolves matter? He no longer had the luxury to indulge his own weaknesses. Steeling himself, he pushed his head into the entrance of the Adravendi caverns. "Aurielle?" he called out in a gravelly voice. He knew she was quarantining, but she needed to know about his mother and Domari.

Aurielle Adravendi

Even in the midst of labor with Ardyn and her children, she’d never felt like this. Lucid thought was so hard to attain, and she’d gone from needing helpful herbs to get to sleep, to being afraid to close her eyes and see the darkness behind them. She could smell nothing, and her eyes and nose, even her ears, wept with strange, glowing blue fluid. Paladin and Legacy had immediately made Red kip in another alcove, and she knew Ardyn was ill, too. Drachen, Taliesyn, Tel… A shiver wracked her frame. Who else… A voice, rough and miserable, clattered through her thoughts, both lucid and bizarre, and she took several moments before she recognized it. Fidelias. He was never one to really seek others out. Should she let him near her? “In here, Fidelias. But please, be careful, I wouldn’t wish this on anyone…” Well… maybe on all slavers. A dark purr of satisfaction thrummed through her mind at the thought of such wolves stricken with this awful illness. Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Labhair an Sean-Teanga." ---- "Hear" ---- Think

After the sudden loss of two sick members at once, the sound of Aurielle's voice - the way the sickness' liquid oozing changed the sound - brought home the fact that more could die. It was sobering - if Aurielle died, if Ardyn who was heir died, would the pack fall apart? Justice wouldn't have wanted that. This had been her home and for all her faults she'd loved this place. And for all that Fidelias didn't - couldn't - feel the same sense of connection she had, this was his home too, and he couldn't imagine not having it. And he'd been loyal to his mother, and in her memory he couldn't abandon her pack even on an emotional level. So he squared his shoulders and pushed into Aurielle's alcove.

His head immediately twisted slightly, dropping his gaze from meeting hers. "Aurielle," he began, his voice coming slowly and roughly. He didn't know how to say it any other way, so he did nothing to sugar coat the news, just spoke it factually and bluntly. "Justice and Domari are dead. I found them together this morning."

Aurielle Adravendi

He was a spot of darkness that popped through the polar bear hide covering her alcove opening and her toes flexed in a surge of unease, hackles lifting where the hair wasn’t too long to fluff out. It took a moment to wrestle her rationale into place. This was Fidelias, Justice’s son, the only one to have seemingly decided to stay. Gwen must be pleased with him… Gwen? Gwen was dead. Long dead. His words sank in, and her eyes cleared, registering them with a dull, rapidly sharpening sting of shock. Dead. Was everyone dead? How could she have let this happen to her people? A tremor vibrated from head to tail as her eyes clamped shut, briefly blocking the flow of glowing blue liquid before it fought free through a faint sob. “I’m sorry… So sorry…” She couldn’t restrain the keening in the words, curling into a tight ball. Too sick to stand up and take charge, too bloody useless to keep her pack alive. Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Labhair an Sean-Teanga." ---- "Hear" ---- Think