Wingbeat, glide, wingbeat, glide. It was a rhythm, and a methodical one at that. Each stroke of his wings was elegant and completed with great panache. Crimson feathers ruffled in the wind, carmine eyes scouring the landscape below. As always, he was on high alert. Who knew when the next threat of Origin Cave's would pop up, right? When the rufous king soared over the many enigmatic garrisons of osseous matter, something seemed wrong. The porcelain-white bone princess seemed to be absent.
Perhaps she was off hunting, for the first time in forever, it seemed. This assumption was quickly shooed away when a loud hiss sounded, quite close, even. It seemed to be not of Mau's. A cave rat, maybe? Either way, Azazel thought it would be best if he investigated. Adjusting the alulae (a set of feathers closest to the wing-tips that's the end of the thumb bone, which act not dissimilar to the air-brakes of an airplane) at the ends of his wings and his retrices (the specialized flight feathers in his tail feathers), he would turn towards the source. If he'd noticed the sound sooner and the commotion, he could have made it in time to save the Bone Princess.
Instead, he was too late. Stilled and silenced by the gentle caress of death's spindly fingers, was the corpse of the porcelain princess. The once bright and vivid blue orbs of the princess were dulled and glassed over, rolled back into her skull just slightly. Mau's maw was ajar, like a snake's. Azazel had suspected that the small piece of stone that appeared to jut from the felid's forehead was perhaps more than that beneath. Over time, the Bone King had learned that in death, your stone detatches itself from the body it had created. Yet, alone, it couldn't free itself from flesh and bone. Gazing down at the corpse, he felt tears prick at his eyes. He could have been there to save the princess, to keep her from death.
Another hiss sounded as the enraged and starved cave rats scampered down from the precipice they lurked upon. Their beady eyes glinted in the dark as they eagerly shimmied towards the porcelain princess' still form, yellowed fangs bared in anticipation. Fueled by the anger, guilt, and sadness currently residing in his heart, Azazel felt the magicka in his gem stir. He focused it on the rat
bastards. Perhaps he could suffocate them and make them pay. Azazel had seen death before, he had felt guilty because he could not prevent it... but this was different. This was one of the Bonebound, one of his
clan.
The air about the rats would constrict, becoming so densely packed and the pressure increasing as the angered vulture would utilize his magicka to crush the rodent's organs. As soon as they would go limp in death, the Ave released his hold on them. Making haste to spiral down towards his fallen adoptive kin, Azazel landed at her side. There was blood all about her face, perhaps where she had landed... or where her stone had attempted to dislodge itself. Already, it seemed the gore began to cake around her maw and eyes. Shutting his eyes tightly, the Bone King pressed his beak into the nape of the felid, then nuzzled her face one last time. He cared not for the thick sanguine fluid that smeared onto his face. All life in the princess's icon was truly gone, faded away into nothingness. There were no flickers of hope other than to perhaps revive her again... but to do that, he would have to tear into her flesh and bone to find her gem.
Tears beginning to prick at his ducts once more, Azazel shut his eyes. Swallowing a choked sob, he grossly muttered,
"Mau... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry that I couldn't protect you, my Princess. I should have come sooner, I should have known. I should have paid attention." Should have, would have, could have... didn't. He knew he had to honor her, with a proper burial. But where? Azazel could not leave her form to simply decay. He could not sneak it out of Canis without being questioned of the whereabouts. Perhaps he could not with her whole frame... but perhaps an important part of her? The core of her being? Her skull would be kept in his possession, in hopes of giving her another life. Her heart? That was what some would say is the true core of one's being.
Salty liquid now pouring down his cheek, dragging some sanguine fluids with it, the Bone King leaned down and began to tear at the flesh of the feline, beginning with about her face. Mutilating her fine features forever. The Bone King hated it. He
hated it. But what else could he do? Leave her body to decay and rot, to fall victim to the mindless hunger of cavern rats? Slowly, he placed a foot atop the felid's mangled and crushed lower jaw, and he pulled with all his might, severing the mandible from it's mate. As muscles split from one another and thick red liquid spurted from each tendon onto the Ave's foot and the floor, he choked out a ragged sob. With a grossly wet noise, the crystalline blue gem pulled from the flesh of its host, and clattered onto the earth with a resonating chime. He could barely recognize the stone from the thick scar down the center of it and the thick red liquid gathering in small pools upon it. Loose pieces of bloodied tendon still remained firmly stuck on the mineral, and he hesitantly peeled them off.
The whole of the Ave's face was soaking with dark crimson blood, the thick liquid adhering to his face and clinging to it. He tried to make himself believe it was Mau's spirit making him think it was alright... that she was happy that he was doing this for her.
Screwing his eyes shut, he moved the gore-coated gem skull to the side, and gazed at the blank and empty face of the feline. He couldn't stand to look at it anymore. He did not want to remember Mau like this. Turning away from that, he looked at the rest of her body. He wanted to keep more of her... but he just couldn't bring himself to.
It felt wrong. It felt so damn wrong.
Sobbing once more, he placed his beak into the scruff of the feline, but rather than tearing further, he cried into the soft and plush fur of the egyptian mau.