The cathedral, once an revered landmark that captured his dragon’s immense majesty, lay all smoldered rubble at his pale yellow paws.

He observed the ruins alone, venturing through them like a vulture observing a days-old cadaver. They had in common fire as a cause of death, with one most important difference: he had come back. Crumbled stone and dead wood was displaced and scattered by his walk; he seemed not to notice.

Sometimes he’d come to Azuhel here at night to curl wraithlike and oily around her body, to whisper soft mad words in her ears, to shiver with a zealot’s pleasure when she responded in kind. It had been... oh, it had been. Had it ever. Slowly and deliberately, Crow ran his tongue over his lips and teeth.

“Miaaaaaa,” he singsonged to the empty air suddenly, raising his stare to the brushline. “I know you’re around here somewhere...”

He could smell her, of course. He did so like to smell what was his

He’d loved the quiet as a boy here. Alone and untethered, growing like a wild weed, he’d spent hours playing his little shadow games in the dark bowel of the forest, imagining visceral horrors to overcome, slipping through the trees. Nowadays — quiet was violent, itching at him like a swat of ticks, grinding his teeth and hollowing his thin belly.

Crow wasn’t used to being bored. Didn’t much like it. Maybe that was why he lingered here with his daughters and his king-son rather than roam off for different pastures. Tell me, stranger wearing my homeland’s face — what’s next? What may I pry from your grasp? How might you amuse me?

The civilians here could come to him at their own risk; Crow was ever an arrogant sort interested by leaders. There was Cocytus, of course. The crippled salamander, Azuhel’s bitter shadow. And the third, who’d taken most of the morning to track down. When their paths crossed —

“Oh, what a great big boy you are,” crooned the black wolf, his unbalanced eyes slitting with the hint of a smile. “And familiar, too... I wonder who was looming behind the red woman and my son when they decided to take this place?”

Blissfully sleeping in a strange land, the young Eurasian lynx purred as he rolled out of the tight ball he had squished himself into and gave a long hard stretch extending out his paws and claws. He kept his eye lids pressed tightly together as his muscles bunched and relaxed. Slowly he rolled to his back as he also stretched out his rear legs, toes spreading out and limbs lightly quivering. “Aaaahhhhhhhh” the cat slowly exhaled, sensations of bliss washing over him.
 
Once limbs retracted to his body, forepaws tucked neatly to his chest, he blinked his eyes open slowly and gazed up through the limbs of the tree that blocked out the sun from piercing his sight. A large toothy yawn separated his jaws, his tongue curled, and ears set back. Such a hard life for the cat.
 
Then a twig snapped nearby, immediately his eyes opened wide and ears flung themselves forward. He froze, barely breathing. Yes, his napping spot at the base of the tree hadn’t been the smartest, but he had tried to climb it without success, the claw marks marring the bark bearing evidence of his futile attempts. It wore him out, so he gave up and napped, smart thing to do when you’re not an apex predator, right? He couldn’t hear any more movement, so he began to slowly roll from his back to his feet. Escape would be impossible if he wasn’t on his feet.
 
Keeping low to the ground he cautiously peeked around the left side of the trunk. Looking from straight on all the way until he was peering over his shoulder. Finding no anomalies, he now shuffled his paws to the right and surveyed in the same manner. Starting from straight in front of him his eyes slowly watched for movement as he turned his head to the right rotating to as far over his back as he could see.
 
Rough scratching sounds caused his body to freeze. His eyes grew wide and his ears frantically fluttered forward and backward as he tried to locate where the possible threat was. Now came the chattering, sounding much like the clanking of teeth when one was afflicted by cold chills. Where in the hell is this thing? The feline’s mind angrily demanded, then the hair on the back of his neck stood up. Still crouched at the trunk of the tree he slowly tilted his head up to look up.
 
Beady little black eyes stared back at him, it felt as if they were nose to nose, but it was a few feet up flattened out. With eyes like saucers he locked eyes with it until its mouth open and a blood chilling squall burrowed into his ears.
 
“OOOOOH FUCKKK” The lynx sprang to his feet and began a mad dash away. His blitz didn’t last long before he lost his balance, his former speed now his enemy as he hit dirt and rolled.

Akutan jolted awake. Looking outside his newest temporary den, he saw the blood moon was out. For some reason, he felt an overwhelming feeling of sadness and melancholy. Well, that had been his default emotion since he ran away from home but this...this was different. Getting to his paws, Akutan stepped outside and studied the moon. His face was settled into a neutral thoughtfulness. His ancestral pack had numerous legends about the wind but he wondered if there was some legend about a blood moon. He looked at his healed leg. Scars, matching the claws of a bear, marked his left leg. His just reward and permanent reminder of all his mistakes. Things he didn't have a prayer of making up for or getting forgiveness. He paid a hefty price and his pack knew it.

Looking back up at the moon, the dark wolf felt a gentle almost hesitant breeze. Lowering his head, Akutan took a deep breath. His mother was there. He could imagine, almost see her, walking towards him. "What's wrong with me, Mom?" he mentally wondered. The breeze flowed through his fur, intensifying the odd feeling deep in his heart that something somewhere was happening. Was something going on at home? Agitation swelled up but just as quickly, it vanished. Sighing roughly, Akutan's rump hit the grass. He closed his eyes and steadied his breathing. He needed to meditate. Was this feeling a sign it was time to go home? He didn't think so. He didn't feel quite safe yet.

Falling deep within himself, but not so deep that he wasn't aware of his surroundings, Akutan didn't realize that tears were falling from his eyes. The moon bathed him in its red light, making him and those tears easy to see.