Light 'Em Up!!

Be careful making wishes in the dark, dark
Can't be sure when they've hit their mark
And besides in the mean, mean time
I'm just dreaming of tearing you apart

It is time, I imagine, one day of them laying on the border where Moonglow fell is enough. I cannot abide the sadness, nor can I handle the angry looks the remaining pack members give me when they see the bodies of their vanquished leaders. Pan says I should try and be contrite when I speak with the pack, that I should explain Moonglow's death was an accident. He believes my apologies will help, that my acting skills should be utilized here as I look over the intertwined mess of blood and fur and a love undying. I had watched from above as wolves poured into my lands as if they were the owners of the territory. Even the Divinians came to watch the death of Moonglow and the subsequent death of her mate. I wonder if Moonglow had lived would the counterpart have still died so shortly after the return of his queen. Undoubtedly he would have still perished, leaving his mate, living or dead. Fitting then, that they did go together.

I wonder for a moment, as I look down upon the dead rival and her king, if I did her a favor. They seem so peaceful, even when they are covered in blood. I have seen the look a thousand times, watched as the light of soul leaves and the body becomes lax as if they simply go to sleep and do not wake up. Maybe this is what I am giving the wolves I take. I steal nothing from them, instead, I send them to a happier place. Perhaps there is no struggle where ever they went in the Nightlands. Maybe there is only togetherness for families and endless rabbits to hunt, perhaps it is the end of any strife at all. Yes, I will rationalize it that way. I delivered her to a better place, and her mate went with her. What is it like? To have a love so complete that when you die, your mate must go with you? What is with me and this need to discover such a thing? Why must I be so oddly concerned with it?

Because this is why Moladion wishes me dead.

This disease they call imprinting is nothing more than a common virus of the mind. My own people are clean from such a hampering ordeal, we do not have to worry ourselves over a wolf we did not choose to run beside. Our kind is not plagued with this “soul-bond” as these Moladion wolves are. Even the women seem to be affected by its tug. I have heard that killing a pair – or only one – of these imprints is considered a crime, though I have no idea why it would be. I am from the frigid north, I am of the mountain range that houses both volcanoes and glaciers, the wolves there must be hard to survive. We do not waste time on something that will only make more mouths to feed come winter, we do not worry ourselves with finding another part of ourselves because we are already made whole and complete by the blood we spill. But, I cannot deny that instinct has forced me into the loner gatherings, where Moladion's wolves congregate to find this supposed soul-mate. Perhaps, then, this is a communicable disease. If so, it spreads at an alarming rate. Maybe I should consult Pan on this issue, or perhaps Lavender would have more information and a better patience for explanatory delivery.

Either way, I move to the site of Moonglow's final homecoming. My larger frame makes hers look even smaller now that the plume is limp rather than on her back. Pity she had to take my tail, maybe if she hadn't she would be in Diveen with her youngest brood. I had come to admire her tenacity, the will power that kept her going even when she knew the battle was already done. I almost wish I had spoken to her before her death, that I had not kept the respect I had formed on the battle field and stayed away as her family mourned her before her and her mate's eyes. A sudden song fills the air, the only apology I have ever sent to a fallen enemy.

I sit over her frail body, and the stone of her mate, my song sincerely mournful, apologetic, sorrowful. Truly, I had not meant for the woman to die. Her posture told me she was strong enough, so I believed her and kept my attacks as I would for any other enemy. I call the pack to gather, sending the mourning hymn across Spirane, and perhaps Moladion as well. I want them to know me, but first, we must leap this barrier together. I sit with them, my summoning funeral howl reaching across Moonglow's mountain, my mountain, the pack's mountain. My head is bowed, reflective pink eyes closed and my expression gaunt. I look every bit the part of a sad wolf, though I know better than to make it look too sad. My ears are folded back and I move off a bit, searching for a stone to place at their heads. It is a custom in the north to bury the dead in rocks, lest the scavengers take their souls to the outer rim of the Nightlands, to be eaten is to be dishonored. I cannot let that happen here.

“You fought well, Moonglow. I am so, so sorry that it had to end this way.” I speak it softly, just as the first face of the pack shows up, my gaze flicking to the wolf who answered the call first. My large frame moves then, massive paws turning over the stone I have picked out. It is a precious rock, large, cloudy, pink, white, they call it rose quartz. To the pack, I speak softly.

“I want them clean before they are buried. Do not disturb their positions, but make sure all wounds are barely there...” I drop my gaze, a sad sigh leaving my lips. “Sleekwing, as their Hercules, you are charged with placing this stone at their heads. Each member will find a stone and bring it to myself and Sleekwing, until we have them properly covered. I will not have them desecrated by scavengers, in my lands, it is a dishonor to be left in the open.” I look to each member of the pack, old and new, fully expecting them to listen as I ask them to help me bury their fallen queen. “It is a hard task, but one we must complete. Please, help me in giving them a proper resting place. The stones do not have to be huge, as the head stone is, only large enough to do what is necessary.” I suck in a breath, releasing it as if I carry a burden too heavy for me.

“Forgive me, wolves of Spirane, for I have taken something from you I can never hope to replace. I had hoped she would still be among us today, and never can I undo what I have done. For this, my heart remains heavy and immobile, just as the stones we will cover them with today. I know she still watches her mountain, I know she still looks down from the heavens and smiles on you, though I fear I may have earned her hatred for what I have done. Please know it was never my intention for it to come to this, I only sought to rise Spirane higher than it had been, I had only wanted to give Spirane as great a name as Diveen. Never had I thought my ambition would bring death to your door, and never did I think she would fall so completely. I have regrets, though my homeland has taught me never to show them, the one I can voice is the one I must live with each time I see their tombstone.” When I give them my apology, I let my gaze roam the faces of those present, hoping Pan was right.

A constellation of tears on your lashes
Burn everything you love, then burn the ashes
In the end everything collides
My childhood spat back out the monster that you see