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No matter how the moons turned, the cold spot in his nest only grew colder. He couldn't cope, acknowledge, or feel this grief - not in front of the others. The rest of the pack. Not even in front of his family. He couldn't take the hushed voices, or the pitying looks. Nerio wouldn't have liked it, either, he knew. She wouldn't like it at all, especially because she wasn't dead. She couldn't be. Not until he smelled her blood, or stared her rot in the face, like that poor gray whelp who hadn't made it out. But his mate was different. Whether she faced a bear, an earthquake, a Kol horde, or was swallowed by the sea. She was a survivor.
And so he would look for her. "Take care of them," he'd murmured hoarsely to his son, even though he knew it was his daughters that would have to take care of him. Rictus pleaded, and Augusta spit in his face, railing at his cowardice. "Just fuck right off, like ya always do!" Furious that their father would abandon them to chase after a ghost.
But Melinoe was unflustered as she looked on; saying only, "See you soon, Da."

As much as pains me to do so, I'm having to retire some characters, and this man is one of them... This self-described legend, this veteran of Tundes, this glittering relic of old Valdovan nastiness, Mar is finally hanging up his spurs. Alas, we hardly knew ye... (or maybe we knew a little too much - as he was one for TMI). Although it has taken her loss to fully realize it, he is not whole without his mate, his mistress, his other half. And holds on to hope - or perhaps delusion - that she is out there somewhere, waiting for him. And, one way or another, he will find her.
And so it is that the grisly, bellicose, beautiful ship of Mar and Nerio sets sail into the sunset. Thank you for following their story. And until such a time as the Valdovan lovers return to the Dreaming Isle, please enjoy the journeys of their amazing children, Augusta, Fifer, Melinoe, and Rictus.

Following the events depicted here:

Description

No matter how the moons turned, the cold spot in his nest only grew colder. He couldn't cope, acknowledge, or feel this grief - not in front of the others. The rest of the pack. Not even in front of his family. He couldn't take the hushed voices, or the pitying looks. Nerio wouldn't have liked it, either, he knew. She wouldn't like it at all, especially because she wasn't dead. She couldn't be. Not until he smelled her blood, or stared her rot in the face, like that poor gray whelp who hadn't made it out. But his mate was different. Whether she faced a bear, an earthquake, a Kol horde, or was swallowed by the sea. She was a survivor.
And so he would look for her. "Take care of them," he'd murmured hoarsely to his son, even though he knew it was his daughters that would have to take care of him. Rictus pleaded, and Augusta spit in his face, railing at his cowardice. "Just fuck right off, like ya always do!" Furious that their father would abandon them to chase after a ghost.
But Melinoe was unflustered as she looked on; saying only, "See you soon, Da."

As much as pains me to do so, I'm having to retire some characters, and this man is one of them... This self-described legend, this veteran of Tundes, this glittering relic of old Valdovan nastiness, Mar is finally hanging up his spurs. Alas, we hardly knew ye... (or maybe we knew a little too much - as he was one for TMI). Although it has taken her loss to fully realize it, he is not whole without his mate, his mistress, his other half. And holds on to hope - or perhaps delusion - that she is out there somewhere, waiting for him. And, one way or another, he will find her.
And so it is that the grisly, bellicose, beautiful ship of Mar and Nerio sets sail into the sunset. Thank you for following their story. And until such a time as the Valdovan lovers return to the Dreaming Isle, please enjoy the journeys of their amazing children, Augusta, Fifer, Melinoe, and Rictus.

Following the events depicted here: