This clarity, it has been given by one of the middle children, or so I could say. Castiel’s appearance in the den that day had been something of a gift – his presence had seemingly lifted the delusions that had wracked my brain for weeks prior. I was able to properly nurse and care for the young one that could barely walk and I could almost feel myself getting better as the days passed. Unfortunately for me it was all an illusion. One final moment of serenity before hell was let loose. I had a nagging feeling in the back of my head that it was true.

I knew that I must savor these last days of consciousness while I had them, despite the fact that my previous litter was already so adventurous. It was how I had raised them and so I could not put any blame on them for not being near to the den any longer. Yet it is upon this night that the far, echoing cries of my Ilias disturb me so. Even for the wickedest of beasts there is a moment of panic at the sound of one’s whelp crying in the darkness.

His whimpers grow closer as he ascends the rock faces and within a short time he is calling for me again at the mouth of the den. He is wracked with fear, I can smell it upon him and hear it in his voice, and it is enough to have me rising to my paws to meet him within a moment. ”What is wrong, child? Are you hurt?” I immediately begin inspecting him, my large nose brushing up against every inch of him and finding where blood now makes clusters in his fur. I step over him, nudging him into the safety of the cave from behind before curling myself around his frail form in the inky night.

Instinct presses me to tend to him, to be caring and compassionate in these moments, and so my tongue starts working against the wounds that litter his small figure. I press gently yet effectively against them to cleanse him of this atrocity and amongst my cleaning I find only the scents of his littermates. All but Castiel, that is. It is a difficult situation to be in because of my own history of an attempted attack on my half-sibling. Yet these pups were not half-blooded kin, they were of the same blood through and through. It was nothing like my own childhood. ”Why did they do this to you, Ilias?” I question him in a slightly angered tone. I had always known the boy was different and that something unseen plagued him but I had never imagined it would bring him this kind of pain. Not from his own siblings.