WELP

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@Edith come find me

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Two months ago, Nikitas had gone through a weird portal in search for a missing princess, and met with a lovely lady instead. He had spent many days and months wondering if the princess had gone this way, only to discover that every lead had failed, and thus, Nikitas wandered back to the pack - though, you know, taking his time because he could still find the princess..

Or so he had hoped; it had not happened that way. No. The lovely lady he had spent some time with had been the only thing he’d seen; no run away princesses or whatever have you up in the mountains, so Nikitas had gone home.

He was unsure how the queen would take his absence; his failure to find the princess. He was in the middle of the territory, deciding to lessen the blow by getting the queen something to eat. That would work, right? Best and easiest way to hunt was a nice vantage point, - so Nikitas found his way to a large rock and narrowed his eyes.

He picked up an interesting scent as the wind picked up, and suddenly, a flash of lightning during clear, sunshine weather. Everything went dark as Nikitas’ body fell from the rock, landing upon the antlers of a white elk - whom took off running with Nikitas in tow.

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Thanks for letting me find him! <3

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The weather had been pleasant today—until the force majeure occurred. There was no solid answer as to why lightning had struck from the cloudless sky or why Nikitas had to die. Edith could only sum it up as an act of The High Elk. Edith had been nearby when the thunder boomed. She nearly had a heart attack when it happened and every fiber of her was petrified until the noise dissipated. When everything seemed to settle and her initial shock wore off, she went off to see what damage had been done. 

What Edith discovered was horrifying, but she couldn't look away; she was watching a train wreck in real-time. Nikitas—who she didn't know personally, but she knew that he was one of them—impaled on a white elk's antlers and it was fleeing in the opposite direction. What was The High Elk warning them? She wasn't entirely sure at the moment, and she didn't have time to consider it. The only thing that stuck out to her in the chaos was the color of the elk: white—The High Elk's light had been removed from the murder's coat. Perhaps this was The High Elk taking out Nikitas's light—that her packmate had done something wrong to deserve this gory death. 

She had to alert the others and they had to retrieve the body—they could get a meal out of it, too. 

Edith howled for her packmates to join her in the hunt for the white elk that had stolen Nikitas's body— to avenge him through the assailant's death— and she started to run once her message was sent; the hunt was on.

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A clashing screech came first, vibrating and echoing through the thickets and clouded canopies of the dense woodlands. Reverberating in rolls of anger, that immediately made the duke's head twist to scout the skies for evidence of a brewing storm at the height of the scorching day. Birds then flocked from their perches to swarm in a mass, to avoid what was coming, to take flight from whatever peril the loud sound heralded. 

And sheer moments later did the bellow of his dear sister act as the aftershock of the tremor, urging his limbs to move in a pressing speed toward her direction in which she summoned Elkshire as a whole. He prayed she was unharmed, as he ran as fast as he could to meet her side.

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he runnin

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The thundering boom had come as a shock to him just as it would to any on a stormless day. The electricity could be felt in the air moments before and lingering after the shock shook the earth beneath his paws. It made his fur stand on end as a howl soon followed for a call to action. Calhoun would not question the hunt that his sister signaled, instead he merely moved looking to meet her side. By the time he had spotted the rest of the trio he quickly understood why. A white elk ran amuck, the body of a wolf sprawled atop its horns. By nature, they were called to kill the offending elk before its plague spread, but the wolf that hung from its head spoke another story.

He could unpack that later.

For now, he raced beside his brother who also pressed forward to hunt. In all honesty, screw the pack, they could end this here just the three of them. He had always been certain that together the trio was unstoppable...but they had little real experience hunting their once apostle. Calhoun did not know what caused it's pelt to fade and draw the ire of their god, but that no longer mattered. A blow to the neck would end this, but they would have to down the creature first so that one of them could actually reach the soft flesh of its neck.

“Go for the legs! Slow its movements.”

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Her brothers quickly arrived—just like she had expected—and their presence gave her the boost of confidence she needed. They had always been there for her, and although she would never admit it, she was grateful for them and often thanked the High Elk for them. But now wasn't the time or place to count her blessings—the current situation demanded her concentration. 

"Go for the legs! Slow its movements.” Calhoun commanded. Edith's earth-churning sprint quickened, throwing herself towards the elk's legs only to miss it by a hair, and she stumbled to the opposite side of the trail. Once she had re-oriented her place and position, she drew closer to the assailant and nipped at its ankles as she tried to drive it closer to her brothers.

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The white was undeniably a dress of penance, sanctioned by their almighty. He had no time to think, no time to debunk what was happening, only with his extensive training at the forefront of his mind and stirring his actions. 

With his pounding feet, the athletic prince showed no mercy, edging closer to the faulty elk. The trio that would stick together through thick and thin, were the mass needed to bring the giant down. And Calhoun was quick to order their first movement. 

Warwick moved just as Edith did and he watched her edge closer. 'Yes Edith!', he motivated his sister, almost one hundred per cent certain she would be the first to strike until she blundered. And he had to restrain his concern to follow her instead of the cursed thing. 

As she quickly recentered herself, she drew the Elk closer to him and Calhoun, and this time Warwick went for the lunge. A snarl competitively grumbled through the earth-quaking pounding of hooves and paws as he flung himself to lock his jaws on a white hind limb, enough to break the elks momentum and for the three siblings to pounce and succeed in slaying the cursed one.

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Edith would fumble the first attempt, though she managed to keep her footing enough to drive the elk home. He and Warwick were on a direct course to intercept and his brother would bring about the first collision as fangs met leg. Already the gait slowed enough for him to race alongside the ghost. He would be careful of flailing limbs while the elk attempted to buck his brother, along with the thrash of antlers and carcass. He only needed to slow it further... Pushing his legs, Calhoun would lunge, fangs reaching for the shoulder hoping it would be the elk to fumble this time while Edith closed in on their mark.

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Edith watched her brothers out of the corner of her eye while simultaneously keeping an eye on the elk. She saw that they were redirecting it toward her[dashing]positioning her to make the final blow—and she was determined not to miss this time. She launched herself towards it and landed her mark. As she bit down, she could feel it crumble under the force of her bite, and slowly it began to die. Edith backpedaled once it began to fall and barked at her brothers to warn them to get out of the way.

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With the unit of three, it was inevitable the creature would be swiftly dealt with. Working in unison, with Calhoun attached to it, dragging it down by a shoulder, and Edith delivering a blow to bring it down once a for all. The weight alone atop its crown would be enough to unbalance it along with the trio hooking, biting and tripping it up. 

As the unsightly white beast dropped to the floor, Warwick lunged to deliver that fatal grip around its vulnerable jugular. Awaiting for his siblings to either grab a snout or other vital parts to bring its death quickly before it attempted to scramble back up. 

This was a first for the duke. There was no pleasure as the metallic blood seeped around his teeth and specked into his mouth. Never had he consumed nor preyed upon any Elk, and never had he been aware of the unfavourable hue being part of their forest. What was this?

He felt the final ticks vibrating through his whiskers, the telltale the beast had finally succumbed to their actions. The duke took a step back, citrine gaze sweeping over the empty shell of a pack member, before returning it to the elk. 'High Elk, grant this unblessed being into thy sanctum of forgiveness and mercy, rid their sins and replenish their soul', his voice low and sombre, looking over to both siblings in wonder what they thought at this moment before moving over to Nikitas' body. They would need to pray in concert first before respectfully trying to untangle the body from the antlers.

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One by one their fangs met their marks and the cursed being stood no chance as it crumbled to the ground. Edith gave enough signal for him to let go as the elk fell to the earth, its blood staining the blank canvas that brought its death. Warwick moved to finish the thing, but given the thickness of the back of its neck, he opted to stand by ready in case it managed the strength to bolt. When all was said and done, his brother gave sparing words as all three would be left to stare at the omen before them. “This was no accident.” Words he'd mumble before any form of prayer. He'd resist a sigh as he leaned close to the fallen apostle.

Stained as it may be, it was one of His, and an omen for those too blinded to see. “He shall care for his own. Rest now and live on as your flesh feeds His will.” His words were softly spoken as his gaze shifted to Nikitas. The wolf strung upon the antlers did not belong here, something obvious enough since Calhoun first laid eyes on the man, but this was a sign from the High Elk that those who did not belong must be purged from the ranks. If not...well...the fallen elk may as well be their mother or any other who sympathized with her view. A cautious glance shied to Warwick, wary of the fate that could befall him if he chose to try and reform a lost cause.

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Warwick was the one who brought the hunt to an end. Edith stood by—just like Calhoun—and watched as the elk's life ended. Unlike most elk, she felt nothing for this one, as the entire situation was outlandish. This had to be a sign from The High Elk. “This was no accident.” Calhoun announced. "No," she agreed, nodding in agreement, "It's all too specific to be just an accident." She paused. "We must keep our eyes out for other signs and keep each other in the loop." 

Edith bowed as her brothers spoke and her eyes lingered on Nikitas. He'd endured a tragic end after being a devout follower, and she hoped The High Elk would show him mercy and grace in the afterlife. "May Nikitas's soul be rid of his sins." 

With their regards spoken, the trio went to work untangling their packmate's remains from the elk's antlers. They approached the task delicately, as one wrong move could cause more damage to the cavader. Once they were done, they relocated both sets of remains and notified the appropriate parties regarding what had transpired.

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