Loyalty & Sacrifice

Ebrom looked at the churned ground where Throhm had stood, protecting grandmother Molnya. He had been warning them for several days that something was tracking the herd. They had deemed him paranoid. With grazing lands becoming harder to find as the winter stretched on, they had chosen to remain despite the warnings.
When the wyrm had surfaced and began wreaking havoc, Throhm was one of the first helping organize and split the herd into groups for safety. After the first attack, he insisted it would return... and again, he was dismissed. When it did come again, he stood ready as a great pine of the north. His actions most assuredly saved lives... and cost him his own.
Ebrom nodded solemnly. "He acted well and with control in the face of fear and rejection." The loxo said into the wind. Ondrus finally allowed the low rumbling hum of his mourning cease for a moment, and even the wind seemed to quiet out of respect for his loss. "Ebrom, the troubles of the last season will continue if this winter does not break. I will push the others to move eastward. They will listen now." He turned to the younger Loxo who had accompanied him to his son's grave site and placed a heavy hand on his shoulder. "Find out what has happened. Aid to bring about an end to this evil. Remain steadfast in your search." *Ebrom met his eyes and nodded, clasping one hand across his chest and over the hand that rested on his shoulder. "By the spirits, I will great father. May your son's memory live on" The hand on his shoulder tightened a moment and he nodded. Scooping up his back he shouldered the burden and after a last brief glance at the broken earth he turned toward the winds and into the blinding snow.
 
.........
 
Ebrom trailed behind his new traveling companions, looking back toward the fire where the wizard burned. He eyes traveled over the small crowd of the towns remaining citizens and then out over the empty and dark buildings. He had never known them to migrate as a group. We're they consuming themselves at such a rate? Had they suffered disease, battle, or hunger and their numbers dwindled to this point? Was there more that could be done or was this cold disregard the female had shown for her own kind the downfall of their settlement? He shook his head a moment and let out his breath, looking back toward the group moving before him. He adjusted the straps of his pack and set forth after then again.
 
....
 
The loxo finished the grisly task of removing the lidless orbs from their socket and waved a trunk over them, muttering in the old language. They froze over in a moment. He carefully wrapped them in a scrap of leather and placed them in his bag with the twist of hair and the fingertips.
He looked at the group as they rested discussing the cauldron and cave. Did they differ from the human settlements? Maybe some? Some seemed carried by the wind. Others driven by some unknown darkness or stirring. The loxo sighed heavily though his mouth and set his jaw. Bending back down he took a swing with the hatchet and separated the head from the shoulders of the creature.