I'm anxious for the next chapter to post, so I suppose I'm really enjoying this collab! I was a little wary of how bland Lume seemed at the start, but your writing of Fraser really helped!

Found this oneshot I wrote of Wren's death after I finished Sincerely, Shrikesong and was originally going to make a whole spin off about Canary, but decided to just settle for this instead, just to give a little insight into her mind ... so enjoy I guess.

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“Come on, Wren! Hurry before the fish all swim away!”

Canary giggled, hopping around in patches of grass and leading her brother through the tangled brush to the little stream

teeming with fish. Wren looked at the ground as he lumbered after her hesitantly. “Sh-should we be going this far?” he

asked, looking back over his shoulder at the den in the distance. “Won’t mother be mad?”

Canary burst from one of the bushes and tackled him, tumbling down a hill and laughing all the way. “You worry too much!

Come on, come on! I saw some really big fish this time, one as big as me!” Wren rolled his eyes as he pulled himself to his

paws and shook out his ruffled fur. “But you aren’t that big,” he mumbled, padding after her slowly. Canary watched her

brother with intensity. He seemed nervous, cautious even.

She couldn’t blame him for that. There had been countless times where she had started playing with him, only to start biting

him or clawing him without rhyme or reason. More than once Robin had forced her off of their brother, snapping at Canary to

warn her off.

But Robin wasn’t here now; besides, she just wanted Wren to have fun.

Canary continued bounding down the hill, finally stopping as she peered into the clear stream. “Look,” she whispered to

Wren, as if she could spook the fish with words. The timid pup peered into the stream next to her, watching the silver fish

fight the current, holding their position in the water. The tension he had been holding began to melt away, and his pricked

ears and wrinkled brow relaxed as he watched the fish with a new sense of calm.

“See, see! Told you!” She stood to her feet and plunged her head into the stream, snapping her jaws shut at a fish, only to

have it dart from between her teeth just in time. She pulled her head out of the water and shook the liquid from her coat and

ears. “Rot,” she muttered with a pout, earning a laugh from Wren.

There were times when her brother feared her like death itself but there were also times like this, times where he forgot his

sister’s chronic violent tendencies and saw her for the excitable pup she was, just seeking a play mate.

Mother would be so proud, she thought as Wren slapped a paw on the water’s surface and laughed with ease as the fish he

was aiming for slipped between his paws. He’s happy and unaware, just how prey should be before you strike the final blow.

Wren’s eyes set on another fish, training completely on the slippery creature and leaving him completely oblivious to Canary

approaching him from behind. He pounced in a fox-like fashion with his front two paws into the water, missing another fish.

“Agh,” he hissed, “I was closer that time!” He turned to face his sister only to be met with paws flying into his face, pressing

him down and forcing his head underwater.

Canary could feel Wren’s body tense as the certain gurgle of water filling his lungs bubbled up to the surface of the stream.

All of the fish were gone now, the last of them scared off by the commotion of a young pup drowning her brother. Wren

thrashed beneath her paws, trying to claw at her with his back legs in vain. Pushing him down had been easy with the

element of surprise, but keeping him down proved to be a tougher challenge as both the current and the much larger pup

fought to push his head back up to the surface. Her forelegs were getting tired.

What had mother taught her about bringing down bigger prey with a disadvantage? “You haven’t got brute strength on your

side, so you’ve got to use your stamina to wear them down instead.”

Eventually, the strength in her forelegs gave out as Wren gave himself one last push against the stream’s bed to force his

head out of the water. He tumbled backwards and Canary stood to the side, watching as he struggled to drag himself a few

paw steps away from the water. He hacked up the liquid invading his lungs, shivering as his body tried to regain oxygen.

“And, when your prey is at its weakest and has used the last of its energy to give one final kick,” said Shrikesong’s voice,

“that’s when you go in with the killing bite.”

Canary padded up to her brother, watching his trembling frame convulse on the soil as he gasped for breath. He looked up

at his sister weakly, trying to speak but failing since the effort of coughing out water had left his voice too hoarse to discern.

After a while of rasping, Canary realized Wren was begging, pleading for his life.

(Continued in next post)

~CL1