Green eyes watch those that surround her, dark fourm shadowed within the shade of the den. There is a battle ensuing just outside their door, and though none move to peek out entirely, Camilla does lean forward on the tip toes of large paws. Just barely can she see the hulking frames of bear and wolf alike, as well as the blood stained bodies that go along. There is her Father and her Uncle for but a brief moment before they're hidden from view once more.

They can all hear the savage snarling and arrival of many a other wolves, as well as the mind numbing crunching of bones. They do not know who it is that has fall to such a fate, but very soon, it will all be revealed. After several long minutes of silence and hovering from the young black female around her youngest sibling do any of them move at last. First of course is Vladimir, moving out and away from them all, and though her eyes immediately go back to Semele her paws bring her frame close to the mouth of the den. From here, now, she can see the carnage and the result of it all. Two wolves lay dying, her Father and her Uncle, and not a thing changes on the face of the young girl. Pale eyes watch on as the Uncle gives his last breaths, and the Father mouths the Mothers leg. And then the life is gone from the bloody barron, and she has eyes for him no longer. He is a thing gone and snuffed from her life, and she knows nothing but to go forward.

There was nothing but a single small individual that kept her large paws from moving her any further away from the den. Instinct had her drawn to the bear, to the bloody hot and fresh meat that caused her mouth to water and to salivate- but all for the sake of Semele does she remain where she is. But she does not turn to her sister, for it is in those moments that the younger one does infact pass by Camilla. If she could be curious, she would be, but regardless she does turn immediately after her sister and follow. Unlike the tricoloured girl that cries and whines and asks why, her silent protector is her dark shadow as always. Simply does she watch the ongoings around her- how their eldest brother goes for the heart of the beast their Mother had dug out, how Semele cries and tugs at their Father, begging and pleading with him. It is no use, but Camilla cannot and does not tell or express this to her sister, but merely allows her these moments to herself. She will soon be not so naive.

When the young one teeters and tumbles to the ground below, the dark sister is there to catch her as she has a thousand times already, and as she always will continue to for the rest of her life. All around her do voices rise into the air, mournful in their expressions and meanings. It is the loss of the first children of Moladion, the generation that far exceeds all others. Most do not know or understand such a thing, but the blood runs hot and thick in the children that bore witness to such tragic events this day. Some will be scarred, and others will continue on as they always have- perhaps lucky enough or unfortunate enough to have inherited particular traits from a particular bloody baron. But watch on they would, the silent ones of the brood to hold fast to the family that they all are- in blood, in kinship, and in death.