Black Flies

VII. No Man Is An Island

"As all of us know, Winston was one of the most loyal pack members we have come to know in the years of Greycrest," Jools preaches, pacing around at the head of the living room. A tumbler of whiskey wraps around his pale skin, shining a beautiful gold against the flickering orange light of the grand fireplace behind his frame. In front of the collective, he clears his throat and shoots a glare at Davie, Ginger in her wolf form at his knees. "Some of us knew him better than others, but one thing all of us is able to admit is that we appreciate every moment we shared with Winnie, whether that be sharing a meal or a game of footy in the front yard."

"He loved footy," Liza sobs, tears falling into her hands. Benjamin reaches out and rubs her shoulder, reassuring her that though her dear friend would be missed, things would improve without him. Grieving was always a process he could do quickly. "I just can't fathom who had it in their heart to slaughter his innocent self."

"The reasoning behind his death will be dealt with tomorrow; tonight, we grieve for the loss of our friend and packmate." Julian takes a sip of his drink, crouching down at the hearth as the fire crackles behind him. "Ted, Ben, I want you to bury him under the tree behind the manor. The rest of us will spend the evening in silence. It's the least we can do to honor our mate. Now, aller!"

Ginger follows as Andrew carries his heavy feet up the old staircase, creeping into the bedroom as he closes the door behind her tail, careful to avoid catching it in the hinges. He sighs, resting down on the edge of the mattress, his face in his hands. The wolf carries on vigil at his heels, licking her lips before releasing a breath of air from her snout.

He lets out a sniffle as his hand strokes her red fur. "I wish you would've known him, Ginger. Winnie would've loved you to pieces; he would've been so happy for me."

The wolf looks up at him with her gold eyes, offering a small lick to his palm for support.

"I know. I'll get over it. It's just hard," Davie shrugs his shoulders, tracing the engraving in the wood planks under his wearing shoes. "I've never lost a friend like him before. I feel his presence even as we speak... he was always so good at listening. Winnie never made me feel like I was selfish for thinking I shouldn't have sacrificed my life for Marcus' happiness."

Ginger pads away across the floor, jumping up onto the dresser and retrieving the newspaper between her teeth. She nudges it against her partner's knee before he takes it, chuckling behind his sorrows at her offer to make him feel fine. However, she fans the pages with her nose, stopping at the classifieds and barking at the flat listings. Of course, a house along the Thames.

He sighs heavily, looking down at his friend with dooming yellow pupils. The dog's reflection sparkles behind their sorrow. "Oh, Ginger, I know how badly you want to get out of here. So did Winnie. It's just... these things cost money, you know? I don't have any experience with anything except crying myself to sleep."

She casts her glare to his guitar, dusty and forgotten against the wall next to the album player. He had played for her when she was healing, old songs by Leonard Cohen and Bob Dylan filling the room when speech couldn't suffice how he was feeling. Andrew encompassed an astonishing voice, deep and hollow like the bottom of a well. He shut his eyes when he played, fixing his heart into it, incompetent of his mistakes on chords and voice cracks. The beta was sufficient, of course, but his talent could take years to perfect.

"Right," Bowing his head, the man lays back on the mattress and blows a strand of hair from his eyes. "I'm supposed to do that. Well, I can't make enough in a day, we'd be homeless in the city for months."

"I can get you the money." Out of the doorway where he had been spying on the couple for some moments, Marcus toes into the bedroom, crossing his arms over his chest that had seemed to grow thicker as the months passed. Possibly, he had actually started lifting for personal satisfaction, but more accurately, his title was getting to his head and he was working on making himself look hot in the alpha's bedroom.