Use this it’s the best color in the game. Armor,doors you name it

to the person who needed help: make sure you’re using the correct number of berries AND charcoal. put only 9 amar, 9 azul and 2 charcoal (or multiply everything by the amount you want) and this will yield x5 green dye. ☺️

Why is the boarder color literally N E O N

You have to put the exact amount !!!!!!!

Or else you’ll end up with blue you can’t multiply it I trod I ended up with blue 😭

The Blood War

Chapter Eighteen

She wanted to attack, she wanted to run, she wanted to scream, but all Outlander could do was watch. The remorse and sadness in Bone's eyes was gone, the small bit of normalcy within him set ablaze and burned away till all that stood was his blind rage and bloodthrist.

"And you'd almost made the mistake of trusting him ... of pitying him," growled a voice in her mind. It was Scavenger's. "Don't forget who he is. Don't forget what he's done."

Bone looked up from Snowbank's corpse, his eyes meeting hers. She tensed, preparing for the monster to attack, but the fire disappeared and the remorse returned.

Don't forget, Scavenger's voice echoed.

"I," the beast started to say, but he was cut off by a long howl. Outlander looked back at Snowblind. The now sole heir called out in the night, and soon his voice was joined with a chorus of howls in the distance. He lowered his head and looked down at Bone. There was no anger, no sadness, just that same cold calculating look. "My pack," he said, "Is just a few bounds away. If you want to waste time attacking us, go on, but when they catch you, they will not make the mistake of letting you get to your feet again."

Bone seethed at the threat before looking at Outlander. "I didn't want this," he murmered.

Don't forget.

"Leave," she growled. "If I ever see you again, I will give my life to make you suffer."

There was hurt in the eyes of the beast, and he opened his mouth to speak, but another break of howls, much closer this time, prodded him to turn and dash into the bushes. Outlander felt her own anger begin to fade away.

"He followed you?" Snowblind's voice in the sudden silence startled her. She looked at him. No concern for his brother was there, leaving Outlander to wonder if he even had a heart.

She thought, choosing her words carefully. If Snowblind thought Outlander was working with Bone, he might blame her for his brother's death. He would kill her, torture her even. "He followed all of us."

"But he came to speak to you."

Outlander swallowed, her heart thudding, but she was spared the trouble of answering as Snowblind padded over to his brother's mutilated corpse. Heads poked out of the bushes, and Phantasm's face fell immediatly as she shot out of the bushes and ran to her son's carcass. "The beast was here, mother," Snowblind sighed. "Snowbank attacked it foolishly."

The alpha looked up coldly, her tear-filled eyes meeting Outlander's. The coywold resisted the urge to shrink away from the alpha's gaze. It would only have been incriminating. Phantasm turned to face the pack. "The hunt is over. I've lost my son. We're going home."

~CL1

The Blood War

Chapter seventeen

Journey’s face was there and then gone on the white wolf that lunged at him. This was not her; this was Snowbank, a rabbit pretending to be a wolf. His jaws widened as he plummeted towards him, paws outstretched. Outlander was shouting his name, but not in attempt to save Bone; this coywolf would never save him. She was, despite not liking the alpha heir, trying to save Snowbank.

So don’t kill him, his mind said. Prove you’re not a monster. Bloom, Bone. BLOOM, IDIOT! BLOOM!

He dodged away from Snowbank’s snapping jaws a split-second before the wolf reached him. He hit the ground running, spinning on his heels and leaping again, this time landing his blow and knocking Bone backwards. His head and shoulders were pinned to the dirt before he could regain his breath, but as Snowbank went to kill him, he seemed to hesitate.

“There isn’t a throat to rip, is there?” he snarled almost mockingly. He surged out from under him, kicking him away with one powerful blow to the neck. Snowbank staggered back, focus fading from his eyes. Outlander made no move to save him, made no move to attack; she simply stood, her eyes wide. “Kill him,” her eyes seemed to command. “Prove that you’re a monster. Slaughter another innocent soul.”

NO! Bone’s head shouted as he spun away from Snowbank’s violent attacks again. As he lurched backwards, a flash of white caught in the corner of his eye. Snowblind.

“Brother!” Snowblind shouted as Snowbank rammed into Bone with full force, sending him tumbling into a tree. “Brother, stop! He’s too dangerous to attack alone!”

Bone’s vision faltered. Smears of blood flickered in and out of his line of sight, and he saw the twisted body of a corpse. A corpse that he had taken the life of.

He surged up, rage instilling him. He loomed over Snowbank, and beneath him, he saw the heir tremble.

Teeth plunged into Snowbank’s throat, and a heartbeat later his innards were open to the air. Blood pumped from the wound like a garden hose, and Bone planted a paw on the wolf’s head. The crunch of a skull crushing inward echoed through the forest, and blood, for the millionth time, smudged his fur.

His eyes drifted upward and met Outlander’s.

- President Loki

The Blood War

Chapter Fourteen

A chorus of crickets masked the sounds of pawprints picking delicately through the brush under the cover of darkness.

"I still don't see what we're doing out here in the middle of the night," Snowbank growled, digging his claws into the ground violently with every step he took. "And with HER, at that," he snarled, jerking his head in Outlander's direction.

The coywolf lowered to the ground slightly, as if making herself a smaller target for Snowbank's piercing words to hit. She didn't understand what they were doing here either. A few hours after the pack halted its tracking mission to rest, Snowblind and signaled for both of them to follow him away from the temporary camp.

Snowblind looked back at them over his shoulder. "We're continuing the hunt. On our own."

"What?" Snowbank sped up his pace, stopping in front of his brother. "Are you insane? We can't hunt that thing on our own! We don't even know where we're going!"

"I saw it earlier," Snowblind said matter-of-factly as he pushed past his infuriated twin. "I know which way to go."

"And you didn't think to tell mother, or anyone else for that matter?!"

"I was going to, but large numbers will only anger it, don't you think? Less wolves will die if we look like we aren't a threat. Besides," he said, looking at Outlander, "We have the only one he's failed to kill."

Outlander shrank into the shadows. The thought of facing that bloody creature filled her with anger, but also fear. Still, she was grateful to be pulled from the scornful eyes of her pack as they followed her to their certain deaths. Now the moon was their only guide as they picked through the shrubbery, hunting a monster they most certainly couldn't kill on their own.

"Coywolf, keep up," Snowbank barked back.

"She has a name," Snowblind sighed. He slowed until he was next to Outlander. "You can't walk in a straight line?" He joked, looking at her paws. She had been struggling to keep her feet under her. "I haven't slept," she confessed.

"The nightmares again?"

"Yes," she sighed, the image of Scavenger transformed into a decayed creature entering her mind. She saw it everytime she closed her eyes. Monster elk she could handle, but she couldn't bear to see her sister turned into a horrific monster before her very eyes. She had given up on sleep since that night, and the effects were showing.

Snowblind looked up to the moon. "My mother once told me of a green bird that visits wolves in their nightmares. If it touches whatever is haunting you in the nightmare, you'll never have a nightmare about whatever it was ever again."

"You believe that?" Outlander lifted an eyebrow towards the skeptical wolf. He shook his head. "I'm sure there is a way, though." He smiled at her, but not at all in a friendly way, and a realization came over Outlander. She wasn't his friend, she was his subordinate, and he would leave her to die the second her usefulness ran out.

Nausea rose in her throat and she quickened her pace a bit. "The nightmares will fade," she said, more to herself than to him, "once the Beast is dead."

~CL1

The Blood War

Chapter thirteen

Bloom. Bloom. BLOOM?! How in all the ancestors’ tails was Bone supposed to BLOOM?! He paced furiously, scraping up the cliff that he stood on with his wicked claws. The corpse of an elk, limbs torn from its body and face shredded beyond recognition, was splayed nearby, just within the trees, blood staining the bark red.

“Bloom,” he muttered to himself, ears angling back. “Yeah, Journey, amazing advice! Now HOW THE OPPOSITE AM I SUPPOSED TO BLOOM?” His voice echoed off of the cliff, into the forest around him. Thick, white clouds whisked themselves through the air, and on the horizon, the hulking form of dark clouds, burdened with rain, were crawling in his direction. A storm was on its way.

He stomped his foot down, small pebbles skittering down the cliffside and clacking away into the woods below. “Don’t kill anymore, Bone,” he snarled to himself. “Be kind, Bone. Turn from the violence, Bone. Yeah, thank you SO MUCH! I NEVER thought of that MYSELF!” He spun around and attacked the elk corpse again, claws ripping apart the skin and exposing the flesh. He turned, grabbing one of the front legs in his jaws, and whipped it violently back and forth, spraying blood and scraps of skin in every direction.

Dropping it, he stood with his chest heaving, blood spattered all over the cliff-edge, flesh and reddened skin snagged in his claws. He sat down, bowing his head and closing his eyes to restrain tears. Whether they were frustration-sourced, or sadness, or cold amusement, he couldn’t tell. He could never tell anymore. He hadn’t been able to tell for five hundred years, if he was being honest to himself.

The wind that blew a storm his way suddenly carried voices up to his ears. “…hunting it. Nothing… kill it.” The voices grew clearer, and Bone’s heart dropped to his hollow stomach. “Find the Bone Beast.” A white wolf appeared visible in the trees, leading an entire pack of wolves. And there; standing beside the white wolf was Outlander, the coywolf he had nearly killed.

“Lead us to it, halfbreed,” the white wolf ordered. “And if any of you see it,” she continued, looking to the rest of the pack, “…kill on sight.”

Bone backed away from the cliff-edge, ears folding back. The eyes of a white wolf, slightly smaller than the alpha, drifted around and suddenly met his, and the cold, calculating expression turned venomous. A cruel smile crawled over his face, and he raised his head to bark the alert of spotting their prey.

- President Loki

The Blood War

Chapter eleven

“Did you SEE what I did?” Bone cried without looking over to that which he spoke to. He was dreamwalking, standing at the edge of the wolves’ camp and watching the young coywolf as she spoke to two, elegant white wolves. Their words, whatever they were discussing, were slurred and muddled, as they always were when he dreamwalked.

“I did,” came the reply, carried on a patient, soft voice with immense elegance. He sighed, turning his head to look at the white wolf, paws dusted by starlight and mist, that stood behind him, her olive-green eyes full of compassion. “And I know that it wasn’t you who did it. It never is, Bone. You’re a monster at heart, sure. Anyone who has to live forever is. But aren’t we all, truly monsters at heart?”

He looked away again, down at his paws as they scuffed the dirt. “You aren’t, Journey. You are not a monster at heart, because you’re still willing to talk to me after all that I do.”

A cold, wet nose laid over the back of his ear, and he twitched, swiveling his head around to look at her again. “I’ve seen you murder,” she said softly, her tail swishing against her hind legs. “I’ve watched you massacre innocent wolves simply for the temporary taste of blood. But I have also seen your compassion.”She padded over, brushing herself against his currently-intact fur. “Your heart, beneath those layers of pain, and suffering, and death, is active and alive.”

He looked back to the coywolf, shaking her head wearily as she tried to sit back on her haunches, halted by the pain which he had inflicted upon her.

“Do you remember when we met,” Journey said, sitting beside him and watching the pack with a warm glow to her eyes, “and you told me that the world works things out in funny ways? Your name was Bone, and look at you. My name was Journey, and look at the journey I had to take. Do you know the name of this coywolf?”

Bone took a deep, slow breath, breath rattling in is chest. “Her name is Outlander,” Journey went on, her voice gentle. “An outcast to her own pack. She can’t fit in anywhere; not in the coyote pack, and now, not in this wolf pack. Unsure of what to do, but she wants so desperately to find a place where she belongs.

“Like you.” Journey looked back to him, and he met her eyes this time, trying not to wince beneath her words. “You fit in nowhere,” she continued, shaking her head slowly. “But look back at generations of those with The Gift. Did they ever fit in, either? No; because nothing great ever comes from ordinary.”

She leaned forward and put her forehead against his. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply, a clamor of thoughts filling his head. “So don’t be ordinary, Bone. Don’t even wish for it. For the longest time, you’ve been the trampled plant beneath the feet of others’ success, hoping that you’ll finally decay and leave the world. But perhaps this is a time for change; an opportunity for new buds to spread.”

Journey pulled away from him, turning and beginning to pad into the forest. She paused, glancing over her shoulder. “So don’t try and decay, Bone.” He blinked slowly, shifting his tail slowly over the dirt.

“Bloom.”

- President Loki

The Blood War

Chapter nine

There was no fear in the eyes that Bone found himself staring into. Swirling, dark pools of rage, tainted by pain; but not a hint of fear as she stared into the face of murder.

His breathing came heavy in his chest, rattling his throat and billowing from his slavering jaws. His sides heaved, the curve of his ribcage shuddering as he panted, the fur of his chest clumped by still-fresh blood, his paws and jawline stained with scarlet liquid. The gash along her neck, fleshed-out and raw, was oozing blood, rivulets parting her previously-neat fur.

“You… you killed Scavenger,” she said in a strangled voice, lips curling upward as she spoke. “You murdered her.”

Bone blinked his weary blue eyes, vision faltering momentarily as he dipped out of his sense of the world. “Who…” he said slowly, as the wolves all around them shifted, backing away slowly, “…who is Scavenger?”

Rage burned brighter in her eyes, snout creasing as she snarled. “You don’t even remember her,” she choked out, her voice full of hate and malice. “You took her life and you don’t even remember.”

An image burned into his head, flashing visible and then gone as he made a mental connection. His mind, reaching out with groping paws, took hold of hers and intertwined into her thoughts. The picture, wavering in and out repeatedly before growing clearer, was of a young, slender coyote, her eyes round and brown, her fur light. Memory seethed into his head; yes, he had killed her. He had ripped her throat from her body… and eaten her corpse.

“I remember her,” he whispered, shoulders sinking as the temporary rage that had instilled him drained out of his muscles. “I remember the look on her face when she saw me, and the cry of fear… I remember…” Bone slowly turned his head, scanning the pack around them. So full of fear, eyes burning in terror and struggling to stay brave.

He looked back to the young coywolf in front of him, who lifted herself up in attempt to stay tall in contrast to his hulking frame, with the rage of a million suns burning in her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered in a voice that shook the air. “I’m sorry.” He turned slowly, wincing on old paws, before bursting into a sprint, leaping over the corpse of Stormwind, and fleeing the wolf pack and the bloody clearing.

- President Loki

The Blood War

Chapter three

“Walking SO much walking. You see what I mean, right?” Bone whirled around to face what he was complaining to; a deer skull lying on a low rock, eyes hollow and face reminding him all too much of himself. His tail lashed lightly, stirring up fallen leaves behind him.

“What wolf pack needs me to walk around and say, ‘Hey, you know your great great great great great great step-uncle you never met? Yeah, he says hi!’. It’s not necessary!” He clawed at the dirt, plucking a broken branch out of the leaf litter and snapping it in his jaws. “If a wolf wants to talk to to their descendants, they can visit them in a dream. They don’t need a monster with no organs telling them. ‘Family drama, oh no! A bear!’ And I’m caught in the crossfire.”

He sat down with a heavy sigh, bowing his head and fixing his dazzlingly blue eyes on the ground beneath him. Faint dapples of sunlight reached through the treetops above him, freckling the earth in warm, golden-white shafts. Bone extended a paw slowly brushing his time-beaten claws over the light.

“I just want to die,” he said finally, looking back up at the skull. “Is that too much to ask? After seven hundred years, is it so unfair to make that one request?”

He slowly lay down, tucking his nose beneath a scramble of leaves, and dropped into uneven sleep.

“Up here,” a voice said nearby, snapping Bone into wakefulness again. He scanned the straggled forest around him, narrowing his eyes slightly as he listened.

“I smell it, too,” a deeper voice replied, and he caught the flicker of movement as something moved further into the forest. He rose to his paws, tail swaying slowly in the wind that shook the multitude of leaves overhead.

“You’re paranoid,” another spoke, tone demanding authority. “It’s probably a fox. There’s no way a wolf could have gotten into our borders without us noticing first.”

A low growl. “See for yourself! You can CLEARLY smell wolf, and one that isn’t from here.” Pawsteps fell over the earth, closer now to his location. Bone stepped slowly towards the the opposite trees, keeping his eyes fixated on where the patrol of wolves were.

“There is nothing to—” the authoritative voice began, but dropped into nothing as she appeared from the underbrush and saw him. Her chalk-gray fur rippled in the wind, eyes widening the longer she stared. “Oh my stars,” she whispered finally, as two other wolves appeared on either side of her; one charcoal-black, one the color of swamp reeds.

“Get back to camp,” she whispered to them both. “Now.” They turned, sprinting back into the trees, at the same time that Bone turned and fled into the forest, vanishing from the sight of the gray wolf.

- President Loki

The Blood War

Chapter Two

Outlander chased an elk through an open plain, free and alone. Just as it reached a ridge that cut off its escape path, the hunted turned on its hunter suddenly. The flat teeth of a plant-eater grew sharp, the eyes peircingly blue and almost dead. The elk's skin began to sag and droop from its body, tearing away in places, revealing dry bones underneath. There was a cry somewhere in the distance, the cry of a coyote, but the elk was advancing too quickly for Outlander to take her attention off of it. Just as it loomed over her, lowering its head to gore her with its antlers, she was snatched awake by the burning sensation of fur being ripped from her neck.

"Up, Omega!" snarled a gruff voice. Outlander's eyes were hazed with the delusion of half-sleep. She blinked hard, trying to clear the image of the blurred figures in front of her. "Yes, yes," chimed an enthusiastic second voice, "Up, half-breed!" The second figure, a wolf the color of dry mud, was much scrawnier and less impressive than the first.

Rat, she thought. That's what she called the former omega, since he looked unatural, like a rat trapped in a wolf's body. The only reason Outlander was forced to take the foal-like wolf's position at the end of the pack was because he was all wolf. No disgraceful coyote blood to taint him.

"I said up!" he screamed. He lunged at her, gripping a large chunk of her honey-red pelt and ripping it from her body as he snatched his head away. Outlander's skin screamed at her silently and through the searing pain she could feel the immistakable tickling sensation of blood gliding through her fur, but she bit her tongue, not willing to give the sadistic wolf the satisfaction he so desired.

The other wolf, Ashsky, the pack beta female, only stood and watched emotionlessly, her smoke gray pelt making her a shadow in the dim light of the den. Determined to prove his might to the respected wolf, Rat placed a paw on Outlander's head and shoved it into the ground mercilessly. The weakling was the same size as Outlander, and much less able-bodied, but she was an omega, and that meant she had to remain powerless, unless she wanted her throat torn out. In a coyote pack, power determined your rank; here, it was all about breeding and tradition.

Her throat was pressed against the ground hard enough that it became a struggle to breathe. Seeing the coywolf's frantic scrambling, Ashsky barked. "Enough," she said, calmly and evenly. Rat sneered and let Outlander up slowly. The coywolf gasped for air a moment and bristled, but kept her head low and her tail between her legs, as an omega was meant to.

Just try that again, she thought, when no one else is around, Rat.

"Come now," Ashsky said to Outlander. "We're going on a hunt, and I need you as a spook wolf to seperate the herd."

Outlander looked up, and whether it was exauhstion or pain, when she looked up at the beta, she saw blue, half-dead eyes staring at her from a body of bones, losely held together by skin. Her heart fluttered and she blinked hard again, seeing nothing but a confused gray wolf staring back at her.

"I'm coming," she muttered, padding out of the den in a dazed state.

~CL1

The Blood War

Chapter one

Sunlight laced itself through the wisps of white cloud in the sky, the broad blue expanse high above the treetops looming wide and welcoming. A cloud of dust whirled upward from Bone’s feet as he walked, sockets grinding together as he pressed weight onto his unprotected bones that he walked upon.

“Hungry again,” he rumbled to himself in a deep voice, no more worn than it had been six years ago. Or fifty. Or four hundred. “Nothing I can do about it. Unrepentant rats…” he spoke the last part in a menacing tone, swinging his head around to stare piercingly back the way he had come. Behind him, over the broad stretch of dusty, rocky desert which reminded him of his time with Journey, lay a low inward dip, trees and earth cascading into itself to form a protected valley, where a wolf pack had settled. Apparently ungrateful to have a connection with their ancestors, they had forced him to leave their territory.

He paused his walk as he reached the shade of a twisted, scraggly tree, inhaling sharply, causing air to whip into the hollow cavern of his skull and tasting the scents that danced upon his tongue. “Time to find a new forest,” he said in fake elatedness, jaw clicking and sending a tremor through his rib cage. “Or maybe…” As he turned to look back the way he came, he let out a gentle huff. “Flesh of my flesh, ripped from my bones,” he breathed to himself. An image of the small coyote he had found a long while ago wavered into his mind. “That was a… nice place. And not… too far from here.”

Bone spun in a slow circle, thinking. “There was a wolf pack nearby. Hm, hm, yes, a wolf pack nearby. And that coyote pack…” The involuntary motion of drawing his tongue across his upper lip escaped him at the thought. “Flesh and torn body. Hmm.”

With a swish of his battered tail, he turned and set off at a quick lope in the direction of the forest his mind had dare remind him of. In the direction of wolves who appreciated him; or, at least, pretended to. In the direction of a coyote pack he had stalked nearly two years prior.

In the direction of blood and flesh.

- President Loki

The Blood War

(A collaboration between President Loki and CL1)

Prologue

Two years ago…

Scavenger ducked beneath a trailing fern, giving a shake of her tail as it raked through her dust-brown pelt, parting the hairs and tickling her skin underneath. She could feel something odd in the air; something disturbed the forest around her, and she wanted to find out what.

The snap of a branch echoed through the surrounding trees and she froze, large ears rotating as she took in the sounds around her. Her sharp, dark eyes studied her surroundings, searching out what had broken the branch.

A chill entered the air, and she shivered, causing her shoulders to quake. Pivoting in a slow circle, she scanned the dark trees around her, praying all of this was in her head. Until she turned the last portion of her pivot and found herself staring into two eyes, hidden in the shadows.

Pale blue reflected her face, staring at the creature that watched her. As she stared, the thing stepped out; a wolf.

Her stomach twisted, first at the fact that a wolf was in her pack’s territory; they were hostile to coyotes, and everyone knew that. But the second twist came in pure fear, as she saw what this wolf looked like.

Dusky, gray-brown fur stretched over the front of his face, ending at his upper lip. Black pigment covered his nose, but his lower jaw was smooth and white; his skeleton somehow showing through. His ears, the tips tattered over time, angled backwards as he stared at her with menacing eyes. The backside of his neck was covered with fur and skin, whereas the front half was open to the air, curved white bone and vertebrae visible on the inside. His shoulders and chest were hidden by dark fur, extending down almost to his paws, where the skin faltered and gave way to washed-out bone. From what she could see, his tail and flanks were intact, while the rest of his hind legs were bone, except for his paws, and his stomach was open to the air in the same way of his throat.

A low, rasping rumble escaped his jaws, and they opened to reveal the inside was hollow, except for a tongue which was attached to nothing. Sharp teeth, curving partially outward and pointing towards her, lined his jaw.

Scavenger staggered backwards, heart pounding in her chest and rising into her throat. She wanted to scream for help, to howl for her pack-mates, but she couldn’t choke out a sound.

The skeleton-wolf advanced, jaws widening until she could see down into his open throat. He bore down on her, looming over her with jaws close to her face. And then his teeth closed around her and the world went dark.

The Blood War

Outlander's Epilogue

"Mother?"

Outlander's eyes fluttered open to the two large faces in front of her. Her daughter stepped forward, holding a small bird in her jaws. She set it down in front of Outlander. "Mother, please. Eat," she said quietly. Outlander let out a rasping sigh. "Robin, you and I both know I won't be able to keep that down," she grumbled. Age hadn't slowed the coywolf down, but the sickness that had been ravaging her body for the past week was making her frail. Still, she had made it past the bar her mother had set. Her children were almost young adults, and already fine hunters. She had watched them play, and fight, and hunt, and grow. They might have gone to find a pack if Outlander's condition hadn't kept them behind.

Robin looked at her brother, obviously hoping he could convince Outlander to eat. "Please," he sighed, "Just try, at least. You haven't eaten in days."

Outlander eyed her son for a moment. He had the same red coat as she and Robin had, but it was interrupted by breaks of grey, a gift from a wolf father.

The white spots resembled places where skeleton peeked through the fur. She had named him Bonepatch immediately as an homage to her greatest friend. His personality didn't fit with that of his namesake. He was timid and avoided conflict at any cost, but sitting here with sadness in his eyes, Outlander could see a resemblance.

She looked at the both of them and gave a smile. "Go. Find a home, a pack if you must. But promise me something."

Robin and Bonepatch exchanged a glance, understanding their mother was giving them her final wishes. "Stay together," she said, strugglung to hold on to the smile as she thought back to Scavenger. "Always be there for each other. Protect each other. Promise me?"

They nodded slowly, to which Outlander nodded in response before going into a coughing fit. She laid her head back on the ground and Robin padded over to lay at her side, setting her head on top of Outlander's. "We can't leave you here," Bonepatch murmered, staring at the ground. "We can't leave you alone."

An unexpected laugh broke from Outlander's lungs. "Look at me," she said. He raised his head, and she looked him directly in the eye, like she did when she wanted her children to remember something. "I won't be alone." Bonepatch nodded slowly. Outlander continued: "I've taught you both everything I can, but I haven't taught you everything there is. You will have to find your own way, and-"

"Bloom," Robin and Bonepatch finished in unison. Outlander smiled, "So you were listening to all my lectures?" There was another coughing fit, this one leading to blood. "Now," she said, "I have one more request. I will try to eat, but I want a rabbit." Robin looked to Bonepatch and he padded off with a nod. Outlander sighed again, looking at her daughter, "Both of you."

Robin's ears dropped.

"Please," Outlander continued, "I don't want you to see this." Robin stood slowly, touching her nose to her mother's. "Goodbye," she choked, backing away. "Not goodbye," Outlander corrected. "We'll see each other again. And then you'll see all those stories I told you and your brother about my monster guardian were true." She smiled as Robin turned and padded of with tears streaming down her face. "I love you both," she called after Robin, "And remember, you're never alone!"

Outlander's eyes flew open. The pain raging in her lungs had vanished, and body, young and undamaged once again, was covered in starlight. Her third and final trip to the Forever Grounds. Phantom wolves and coyotes appeared from the trees, grouping before her. "Outlander, of the coywolves," spoke one of the wolves in lead. "Welcome to the Forever Grounds." From behind him stepped two figures: Outlander's mother and Scavenger.

"Welcome, to your new pack," Scavenger said with a smile. "No omegas, no alphas. Just packmates. You belong here, and now its finally your turn to join us." Outlander recognized a few of the faces. There was Phantasm, and Winks, and even some of her old coyote packmates. The pack turned, making its way deeper into the forest. Scavenger dashed after them and Outlander's mother stood, motioning for her to follow them before disappearing through the trees. Outlander took one last look behind her, where the living world faded away. Though they would hurt, she had every confidence her chidren would thrive. As she turned back to the astral forest, a dark grey wolf appeared before her, his peircing blue eyes filled with both the sadness of seeing another dead friend and the relief that her suffering had finally come to an end. She gave him a smile, "Thank you for your guidance and protection, old friend."

He gave a smile back. "Welcome home."

The Blood War

Chapter Thirty

Everything fell silent at once. The pain, the blood, Snowblind's crooked laughter; they all vanished in an instant. Everything was bright and shimmering, bright enough that Outlander believed it should have hurt her eyes, and yet it didn't. It was like a forest of stars, swaying in winds of a twinkling sky filled with what looked to be endless moonlight. The scene left her breathless, awestruck and lost in that one moment. She could stay forever.

Then she remembered what had just happened only a few heartbeats ago. The blood, the pain, the screaming. She had been murdered. She was dead.

The trees made of stars continued to beckon her, but she no longer wanted to go.

She backed away, startled by the feeling of her tail swiping over fur. She spun around met with the face of a stoic brown wolf. "Do you recognize me?" the stranger asked. Her voice was like a wolf's song, carrying through the forest up to the sky in a melancholy note. It was familiar, a voice that brought comforting confidence that everything would be alright. Outlander nodded, an involuntary smile filling her face. "Yes, mother."

It was difficult to recognize her without the deep battle scars and tired eyes, but the powerful she-wolf whose teachings had guided Outlander since her youth was still there, proud and commanding yet peaceful and patient. She looked her coywolf daughter up and down. While she had always seen Outlander's difference, she didn't point it out with malice or disgust, only with the intent of teaching Outlander the adjustments she would have to make to the teachings of a wolf. "You have grown strong, little robin," she remarked, using the nickname she had given Outlander for her red coat. "I'm sorry I could not see your first success in hunting. You know if I could have changed the past-"

"You would have shredded that mountian lion to peices," Outlander spat, bitterness against the cruelness of the world rising in her heart.

Her mother relaxed her eyelids and set her head up a little higher, the way she did when she was about to teach Outlander something. "Late in my life, there are few wolf traditions I believed in, but I have never stopped believing everything happens for a reason, little robin. If I had not gone, you would not be as strong as you are now."

Outlander wanted to retaliate, still believing it all to be unfair. Then sadness overcame her anger. "Have you come to welcome me to the Forever Grounds?" Her voice grew small as she looked around the starlit canopy above. Her mother gave a rare smile. "You know I have always tried to protect you, to make you stronger, but though I am your mother, I was by no means motherly. I thought you should be welcomed by a proper family member."

She turned, gliding through the trees like the silent spectre she was. Outlander passed behind her, not wanting to look at the evidence of the end of her life all around her. Her mother stopped suddenly, telling Outlander to look forward. There was a large open area before them, with a tall, sturdy tree at its center. A small figure lay curled under its shade. Even at this distance, Outlander recognized Scavenger's small frame. The real Scavenger. Tears threatened to burst from her eyes, but as she stepped forward towards the tree, her mother's tail stopped her. She looked up at her mother, crestfallen. "I can't see her?" she choked.

Her mother shook her head. "Not yet, but soon, I promise. You still have more to do."

Confusion and anger swirled through her mind. "I don't understand!" she shouted. In the distance, Scavenger's head lifted, turning towards the sound of Outlander's raised voice. "It isn't over yet," her mother said calmly. "Someday, you'll be brought back here, and she'll be waiting, but for now, you have more to do. Bone needs your help as much as you need his. He needs to be seen not as an 'it,' but a 'who.' You've given him some peice of his heart, a peice of real life, a peice he'll lose if he continues with the massacre he's about to start."

Outlander wanted to argue, but defiance had never been an option with her mother, and this time was no different. "I don't understand," she repeated quietly, her voice breaking with greif. The edges of her vision had begun to taper, flickering away like a burning flame. In the background she could hear the steadily growing sound of muffled shouting and growling, the sound of wolves in battle. "You will, my robin " her mother sighed, touching her nose to Outlander's. "I taught you to use anger as a tool. Now you must learn what I failed to teach you."

She continued to speak, but the sounds of wolves fighting drowned her out. The moonlight slipped away, and everything began to fade to black. Outlander called out for her mother, but her voice echoed into a shadowy, lonely abyss. The starry forest faded, and all was dark again untill she opened her eyes in a pool of blood and a world of pain.

Snowblind's eyes, cold and dead, stared back at her.

~CL1

The Blood War

Chapter Twenty-seven

(Ha, I got it right this time)

“So, what’s our plan?” Outlander asked as they padded through the trees, back in the direction of the pack’s camp. Winks trailed a few paces behind them, having insisted that he wanted to ‘watch Bone as he walked’ and ‘make sure the leg was fine’.

“Our plan?” Bone snorted without looking over, hopping around a patch of swarming briars and keeping his pads clear of the thorns. “No, it’s MY plan. You’re taking no part in this.”

That answer resulted in Outlander nipping his tail, and he hopped forward a step, shooting her a glare. She shot it right back, irritation etched into her face. “I’m helping,” she said in a tone that refused to be argued with. “Snowblind hurt me more than he’s hurt you. I want to take part in watching him die. So I’m helping.”

Bone let out a sigh, wind whisking between his clenched teeth, as he lashed his tail. “Pretty sure you’re related to Journey,” he muttered, ears angling back. “Must have inherited her stubbornness.”

“So you expect me to know what that means, then,” Outlander grunted, but the conversation didn’t continue further from then. The camp was in sight.

They reached the surrounding tree line, peering out from the undergrowth and looking into the camp. It was deserted, with no wolves in sight, presumably out on a hunting patrol.

“Stay here,” Bone ordered, looking over at Outlander. When she began to protest, he spoke over her. “Snowblind is dangerous, and I need to keep you safe. I NEED to keep you safe, Outlander.” At that moment his jaw trembled, hesitation clutching his vocal cords. He wanted to tell her why; he wanted to tell her that Scavenger was in the Forever Grounds, watching over her adopted sister, and that he had promised to keep the coywolf safe until they could be reunited. But something kept his mouth closed; something kept him from telling her the truth. He just didn’t know what.

He turned back to the clearing. “Stay here,” he repeated insistently, before stepping out of the undergrowth. He crossed the stretch of unbroken grass, reached the alpha’s den, and ducked inside.

Cool air met him as he entered, eyes adjusting to the dim light of the small cave. He scanned the rock, hoping to see the white silhouette of Snowblind inside, but found that the cave was empty.

And then he heard a yelp from outside.

Bone turned, darting back out the entrance, and found himself looking at Snowblind, holding Outlander down by the neck, claws slowly curling into the half-healed wound that Bone had given her. His eyes were cold and calculative, and his smile twisted in bitter satisfaction as he saw the look on Bone’s face.

“Poor, poor murder beast,” he sighed with a shake of his head, pressing Outlander further into the ground. “You dared try to strike up an alliance- a FRIENDSHIP, even- with the traitor. The outcast.” He flashed his teeth. “You thought it would be different, didn’t you? Different from everyone else. You thought that you could, what, RELATE to her?”

Bone resisted the urge to let his paws tremble. He wouldn’t be able to reach Outlander in time; Snowblind’s claws were seconds away from breaking into her throat and tearing her life away. Nothing that he could do would save her.

“You wanted a chance at being accepted,” Snowblind continued, his voice harsh. “At being seen as a wolf, not a monster. You had hoped that Outlander would be your chance at maybe, hopefully, possibly living a somewhat normal life, around someone who accepted you.” Bone kept silent, fighting against allowing emotion to show on his face. He kept still, his pale eyes slowly narrowing the longer that Snowblind spoke.

“But now, you’re going to watch that chance die. And then you’re going to join her.”

- President Loki

The Blood War

Chapter Twenty-four

“He didn’t kick me out, he killed me. When I go back, wolves will be staring in disbelief, not trying to tear me limb from limb.”

What fantastic parting words, Bone’s head couldn’t help but snap, as he tried once more to rise. Pain engulfed his skeletal figure, burning like a fire on the horizon. With a breathless grunt of pain, he collapsed again, clenching his eyes closed to choke the pain out.

Craning his head around, he could see the faint color of dirt-bound red beneath him, and knew straight away that he was laying in his own blood. How funny; he wasn’t sure if he would even be able to bleed anymore, or feel physical pain.

He closed his eyes, taking a pain-clogged breath as he tried to drag himself into a dream. For a while, his pain-bound body refused to fall unconscious, but finally, dark tendrils of sleep wound their way around his mind and dragged him into tense slumber.

Bone padded silently through a sun-dappled forest, the wind causing his thick, blue-gray fur to ripple. Here, in a dream, his form was intact, as was the same with every ancestor. The pain of his spine- or, his hip, as Outlander had told him- was briefly gone, enabling him to walk freely.

He thrust himself through a patch of thick, bowing ferns and found what he was looking for. Lying against a tall beech tree, sun dappling her light fur, lay the figure of a quite small wolf; apparently having died far too young.

As Bone approached, his tail swishing behind him, she sat up. She wasn’t a wolf at all, but a young coyote, strands of mist clinging to her fur as she moved.

“You have to work together, now?” she asked softly, pivoting to face him with a friendly look that was not at all fitting, judging by the fact that she was speaking with her murderer.

He sat a few feet away from her, nodding. “Funny how the world works things out like that,” he sighed. “I’m trying to keep her safe, I swear that I am. But she’s just so… reckless.”

The small coyote grinned at him. “From what I hear, you were reckless, too, when you were still alive.” Closing his eyes he exhaled, re-opening them a heartbeat later and looking down at his paws, claws curling into the dirt.

“The moment we’re done with this,” he murmured finally, lifting his head to look up at her, “and the moment that Snowblind is dealt with, I promise that I will bring her here to see you, Scavenger.”

She stood, padding over and stretching up to touch her nose to his, for which he met her halfway. “Thank you,” she sighed softly, before turning and padding away into the trees.

“He’s up here,” said Outlander’s voice, which brought him fully awake. He kept his eyes closed and ears back, but the smell of the small coywolf and another bathed his tongue.

Guess she didn’t die, his mind said sarcastically, opening his eyes to look over at them. The wolf beside her was old-looking, with one eye pressed tightly shut. The open eye was wide, staring in shock at the Bone Beast which lay in front of him.

“He was stepped on by an elk,” Outlander said, darting around to motion to his hip. “Is there anything you can do to help?”

The old wolf padded over, lowering his head to examine the injury. “I’ll try my best,” he told her.

- President Loki

The Blood War

Chapter Twenty-Four

As the sun dug it's talons into the landscape and pulled itself from the ground to begin its long crawl across the sky, Outlander watched what she had believed to be impossible.

She watched the immortal death-wolf bleed.

Bone's breaths were shakey and laced with visible pain. Sitting there, broken and bloody, she thought back to her promise. "If I ever see you again, I will give my life to make you suffer." Well, here he was, defensless and half-beaten already. If there was ever a time to take her revenge, it was now.

She padded towards him, looming over him. His eyes flew open and he looked at her without moving his head. "I didn't think monsters bled," she murmered.

Bone let out a noisy breath, somewhere between an appauled scoff and an amused snort, but it caused obvious pain as he winced immediately and inhaled sharply. "Still convinced I'm a monster?" Then his amusment fell to something else. For a second, Outlander didn't know what to call the look; she had never seen it on Bone's face. Sadness? Despair? Confusion? Then she pegged it: fear.

He was afraid of her.

The great bringer of so much death and destruction, left vunerable and afraid of a little coywolf.

"Scavenger-" he started.

"Is in the past." The words tumbled out, leaving a bitter taste in Outlander's mouth and the feeling of deep claws in her heart. "I'm putting it behind us. No more revenge. No more of Scavenger." Outlander could picture the look of betrayal on the ghost Scavenger's face, the disbelief. The hurt. She apologized profusely in her mind and heart as she said the words, "You are forgiven."

If there was a Forever Grounds for coyotes, she would answer for her treachary someday, but today there was a bigger threat than the Bone Beast.

"Thank you," he breathed quietly, lightly, as if a great burden that had been clinging to his lungs suddenly released its hold. Bone tried to push himself to his feet, fighting the pain in defiance, but he dropped quickly as the movement became far too excruciating to withstand. "Your legs. The entire hip, it's too high, not where it's supposed to be." She walked around to his back.

"I have to get up," he panted. "The ancestors sent me to stop Snowblind."

Outlander grew queasy. His spine wasn't broken, but it cetainly was bent out of shape, the imprint of an elk hoof deeply imprinted on his skin. "You will," she murmered, subconciously offering whatever comfort her mind found fit, "but you're not going anywhere like this. Snowblind can wait." She poked her head back out to the field. "There's an old wolf I know. He healed me after my first run-in with you. He may be able to help you too."

She turned, wanting to give Bone some encouragement, something to hold on to. "Besides, I think he's a big fan of yours," she said with a grin.

Bone snorted again, and winced again. "Snowblind kicked you out. How do you plan on getting back in?"

"He didn't kick me out, he killed me. When I go back, wolves will be staring in disbelief, not trying to tear me limb from limb. Stay here."

"Where am I going to go?!" Bone snarled, his voice growing distant behind her as she made her way back to the den of vipers she once called home.

~CL1

The Blood War

Chapter Twenty-three

The herd of elk broke from the trees, pounding quickly with deadly hooves in their direction, before either of them could even blink. Flashes of wolves pursuing them were faintly visible as they escaped the tree line, but the pack quickly peeled off, leaving the elk to run alone, straight towards Outlander and Bone.

“Curses!” Bone shouted, taking a step back, and then another. “Flea-ridden rotting rats! Opposite-fleshed bats of-” he was interrupted of his shouting as Outlander rammed herself into him. “Yelling isn’t helping!” she barked. “Run!”

The elk were upon them in a few passing heartbeats, giving them barely any time to shift where they stood. The lead buck, rack of antlers towering and hooves sharp, bore down on top of them with the others close behind. Bone launched up from his place beside Outlander, teeth gnashing over the elk’s throat and causing it to collapse.

He dodged away as the now-dead prey collapsed to the ground, barely pulling himself away in time. Outlander was already running, bounding for the distant tree line where Bone had come from earlier. He followed, dodging around pounding hooves and avoiding their stomping legs, breath coming quick and painful.

An elk bore down suddenly on Outlander paces ahead of him, sharp hooves looming above her, coming down to bring her death. With a burst of speed he lunged, catching her by the scruff and shoving her away from the prey-turned-predator, just as hooves crushed down on the back half of his spine.

A piercing cry leapt from his jaws as he was driven into the ground, pinned by the heavy weight of the elk, sharp hooves digging into his flanks and back. In barely a passing moment the weight was gone, leaving him pressed painfully to the earth. Through the pounding of his own ears and the hooves around him he could hear Outlander cry his name, but he was only dimly aware.

Bone managed to pull himself to his feet, feeling the sting of blood lace itself into his fur. Elk were dodging around him now, or at least trying to; occasionally a kick would strike him in the sides or jaw, leaving his ears ringing and pain stinging his body.

Outlander’s side, warm and full of life, suddenly pressed against his as she urged him the rest of the way, into the outskirts of the trees. The elk continued their stampede, the last of them disappearing into the forest on the opposite side of the field, leaving them alone.

That’s when Bone wobbled on his feet and collapsed into the dirt.

- President Loki