Perhaps Callisto would not have been lost to early snow.

Perhaps Circe would not have fallen at the hooves of puppet-Gaucho, to the darkness of the Moon Goddess.

Perhaps Manhattan would still be here, trotting carefully at Loretta's side with fresh kill between their jaws.

Perhaps they would have been more careful.

Perhaps they would all be dead.

The Dauntless shook his head slowly as he walked, a silent, stone sentinel behind his younger brother. The Czar followed to protect the broken colt--stallion?--as he walked, truly alone for the first time in his life. Even with Archibald's impressive bulk behind him, shepherding him home, Knox was alone and the brother knew it. Loretta knew it, too. The thoughts shuddered down her spine, sorrow clogging her airway. She could not cry into the wind as she so wished. No, her voice was gone. Her heart was torn. Her sister was gone.

I've never felt my own pain. She whispered into her bondmate's mind, her voice sounding tired and worn. It's always been your's.

If Archibald were not such an impenetrable fortress, he would have winced at her comment. For her entire life, Archibald's job had been to protect her. When she stumbled across his path and their eyes met, two pillars of gold and amber, their hearts and souls entwined only to be broken by death. She had a front row seat to all of his experiences, all of his triumph and loss. She had shared in the joys and sorrows of his children, and had shared in the heartbreak of the loss of his love. Now, however, as they walked slowly behind their siblings, it was her pain that swallowed their hearts. Archibald, for the first time, was overwhelmed by the sickening, deep sorrow that corroded the strings of love within his canine.

And it fucking hurt.

When they finally stopped in their lush green home, Archibald stayed some paces off. The silver girl was the one Knox sought, the one he and his son needed. Archibald was nothing for him now. There was no need to open his mouth and let useless condolences fall from broken lips. Loretta slumped to the forest floor at Archibald's hooves, head falling into the loamy soil. Her amber eyes closed and her chest wavered, silent sobs racking her body. Archibald's face was cemented in a cold, empty tomb of emotionlessness. Golden eyes watched as the colt ran to his mother, and watched as his brother fell to the earth before his mate--lover?

He remembered the scene in the snow, with his own massive body wrapped around the lifeless corpse of his firstborn daughter. The Dauntless let his head hang low as he watched the scene before him, remembering how cold the first snow felt upon his dark hide.

"She deserves a warrior's burial." He finally let his mouth release, but his voice was cold and tired.