he had gone on the hunt again. hunting for a female who rarely seemed to venture or indulge in much more than grieving a soul he had not known how to grieve himself. rainbow had been a chance, and somehow happy, accident. a hunt where he met the female and lost sight of the hunt while his brother seemed to try and keep him from her. to be the soul of the soulless… what an intriguing concept. to be all the things that he lacked, and him to be all the things that she did… it was a curse and a blessing and nothing at all like he had seen fenrir live through over and over again.
and the end of it left him only as barren as he had ever been. what little humanity his tether to the female had created was gone, as dust, and he was as unmotivated as ever by the lack of empathy or sympathy. what he knew was that he had a female to feed and pups to raise to hunt his mate’s imprint down - if he was not dead and had only managed to sever the bond by means he had witnessed in his time with fenrir.
and that is when he hears it. the scream.
screams. plural.
even beneath his teeth, within his jaws, she had never done such a thing -- and while all he feels is savage possession and fury that someone might take what was his for their own uses… he finds he is also angry that he is not fast enough, no matter the hard gallop he had lunged into. if it was an attack, she would be dead and he would not be thwarted from his kill by any brother who might try and stop him…
only when he arrives at the den does he, red giant in the light of the moon, capture the reality of what has happened. she is tucked back at the back of his den - strewn there like one of his deer carcass gifts he often laid where she could find them. white and red with mewling sounds at her belly where a red creature, similar but redder than himself even, drags itself around it’s mothers flailing and ifrit finds himself baring his fangs at the morsel of blood and bloody hue. he knew at least of one thing to be done and because he cannot fathom the need for him to be present - and he would not give his mate to even his own children - he is gone to find the healer that had been mentioned to his brother upon entering.
haziel.
he makes it just a few lengthy strides further into the interior and throws his head up in a summoning call. it was the one agreed upon when the brothers took their posts and were permitted to set up their chambered den so far into the interior so that seamus might be able to relay messages that were not meant for howls and could give them a place in which they could truly rest without the struggles of outskirts life brought to hearth and home.
“injury, emergency” the howl beckons to the pack, sound meant for one but welcoming any with a hand that would stay what execution this birthing has brought to his doorstep. death was one foe he could not fight if she were to succumb to it… and he would not allow such a foe to look too keenly on what was his.
with his howl done and made, the world seemed eerily silent and the red giant, bloody baron of moladion in the old world, if not the new, turned to trot back to the mouth of the den in which now four pups struggled and squirmed towards the belly of their mother. he sits and stares, watching, waiting, flashing teeth at pups who he dare not touch in case his mate would be yet breathing and cull his throat from his neck.
IFRIT
the bloody baron ; of solevion
male | 17 years | 39 inches | 200 pounds
brawler of the fantastic four | mate of everlyse
father of : vladimir, camilla, panzer, semele (x everlyse)
sire of : jehu (x eshek)
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