Warning; This gets mildly graphic, just beware.
The night wrapped around him so tight that its cool embrace was more like to suffocate than comfort him. He was caught so cleanly in the firm grip of sleep that he did not notice his trembling, though his brother did. The wild dog was shivering and his teeth chattering, but his eyes remained firmly closed and his brow was creased as his head twisted from side to side occasionally on a straining neck. Every muscle was tensed, and his brother knew what ailed him. The fever stripped him of his health occasionally still, but it was the nightmares that made the nights seem long now. It had taken some time for them to adjust to living in the day anyway, and even then they had never really adjusted to more than twilight animals. The sun hurt their eyes, unused to the brightness as they were.
But in the night lurked demons out in this broad land. Newmoon watched, silent, as his brother raged through the horrible images that plagued his mind. He knew what he saw, for he had seen it too, but he had not lost quite so much. He knew his pale pelted brother would see the bodies and the blood; the knight and the fiend, both so dark it was difficult to tell whose blood had sprayed and who had the upper hand. Even when it had been over, the monster had spat that it wasn’t a victory for the other, only that such measly prey was not worth spilling his iron blood over and he had better things to do with his time. He’d even offered the other a place in his pride before stalking off into the dark.
He had left them with such misery.
It had taken weeks for the wounds to heal and the most of the illness to creep past. Their savior had left them then, after he had helped to bury the dead and been positive of their swift recovery. But he had left Newmoon to watch his brother struggle, and to try to help guide him through the shadows of loss. What did Newmoon know of loss? What did he know of comfort? Their life had been so easy until that night. Where could he begin?
So he had licked his wounds and his brother’s, and hunted for them until his brother had regained his will to survive and at last they could hunt together again. He even took the other dog to the graves, so let him grieve over the family and the love that he had lost. But just now he watched; he watched his brother’s claws dig furrows in the packed dirt, and his ears pin so tight against his skull they looked as if they might disappear, and the tears press past firmly shut eyes. He waited, because he knew better to wake the other until the nightmare passed. It was best for Harvestmoon to live it through the end, and harden his heart against it.
In the depths of the nightmare, Harvest thrashed in its grip. The blackblood shadow demon tore apart the thin web of happiness that he had woven here. The animal’s sharpened talons had ripped so deeply into the belly of Harvest’s mate that the unborn pups had spilled forth over the dirt and died where they fell. Even if she had survived such a blow, such a horrible loss of flesh and love, the death grip with which the lion had grabbed her throat and shaken her like a strip of leather... she was dead before the last pup stopped breathing. Harvest tried to hide the pups, while the lion had gorged upon their kill. All of this over a zebra foal, all of this over a meal.
He’d hidden three before the beast had caught him at his game, and Newmoon had hidden two after he’d caught on to his brother’s intentions. She had been so far along in her pregnancy, surely the pups could survive... surely... the demon had lay into him and his brother then, though for what reason Harvest couldn’t understand. He’d had his fill of the foal – eaten the entire thing – and he had killed so much already. It didn’t matter, for Harvest was ready to take whatever rendering of flesh he could to the creature that outweighed him by more than thrice his count. Still, he leapt and he tried. His teeth had sunk into the dark flesh and pulled as much as he could. Fur and skin had clung to his teeth as he leapt away and his brother leapt in and they alternated until one disastrous blow from those monstrous claws had sent Harvest tumbling.
The landing had nearly killed him, but not from only the force that crushed his ribs against the cold ground that was wet with blood. He had landed with his nose in the moist fur of his dead mate, and her staring dead eyes might have broken his heart then, if he’d not been determined to at least save their offspring. So he had hauled himself to his paws and fought, again, until the lion cast him down with a dark chuckle, “I would keep you for Thralls if I wasn’t sure you’d attempt to slit my throat at the first opportunity...”
Harvest collapsed only when he could no longer draw breath deep enough to stand, and deep gashes across his shoulder made it impossible for him to bear his own weight. Newmoon had fought for only a little longer before his head was dashed against a rock and rendered him unconscious. Despair – the dog was full of it. He lay in wait for his own death before a sudden roar sent a tremor through him. Another lion – but this one was no friend of the dark demon. A black shadow had spilled from the dark night and collided with the attacker, and their battle had lasted for only a short while before the demon shook out his mane and left with a raucous laugh. He’d promised the other lion a position in among his ‘Reavers’... how could he have propositioned such a thing amongst all the blood? Harvest never would understand such callous disregard for life...
He had lost consciousness not long after, but his dreams were always haunted now by that bloodied face and that bright, malicious gaze; the dead emerald eyes of his beautiful mate and the flash of his wounded brother. The puppies... the small lumps of flesh behind the bush – none survived, the knight and his brother told him later. All those little lives lost for a gangly foal, for a snack. He could hear their little voices that were never heard in this world; whispering in the shadows and nibbling at his ears in his sleep. How could he not have protected them better? How could they not have survived...
He woke with a start, a brief yelp slipping past his lips as he was brought with a jolt into awareness. The night was close, but he could feel his brother’s presence to one side. He wasn’t alone, not completely yet. He knew they would part ways soon, but not yet... he raised his head slowly as he caught his breath, his panting causing the dirt before him to billow out in little clouds before he stopped long enough to lick his dry lips and speak, “Is it dawn yet?”
“No. Far from it. You should stay awake anyway if you are going back, you’ll be expected to stay up the whole night through, as we used to.”
His brother’s voice was quiet, so Harvest knew he had been awake for sometime now. It was not slurred with sleep, and for a few seconds he was confused, “Did you not sleep at all?” When he didn’t receive an answer, he turned to look at his dark brother more fully in the face, pale blue eyes wide with interest, “Have you decided to come with me, then?”
“No,” Newmoon was slow to respond, but he shook his dark head with a soft smile, “Not yet, brother. Soon, but not yet, so there is not much reason for me to sleep with the moon and play with the sun, is there? When I’ll have to fix my routine soon enough anyway?”
Harvest nodded, licking his pawpads quietly for a few seconds before sighing, “No, I suppose not.” He hesitated, “Do you suppose it will be much different there?”
“Generally, no, but I don’t expect it will be the same for you. We’re different than we were, and will view it all different than we once did.”
He nodded, again, then looked back at Newmoon, “Will you be long in coming? I don’t suppose I’ll know many there anymore, or if I do, they’ll all have grown up and different since then.”
“Not long, but I can’t make any promises, Harvest. It’s time you go back whether I am with you or not, but I promise I won’t keep you waiting.”
Harvest turned his face to the moon, letting it’s cold light wash over him before he exhaled softly and hauled himself to his stiff paws. His body was sore after such a restless sleep, and the muscles twitched uncomfortably in silent protest to any movement, “Let’s hunt. I need to get my mind off things.”
Newmoon was quick to his own paws. He had expected some sort of request for a distraction to come up not long after his brother woke, and he was eager to get his own mind on to the present and away from the past. Dipping his head, he looked out over the grasslands with his large ears scanning the night before inclining his pate in one direction, “There’s a warthog burrow that way. Surely a nice fat boar will be waiting.”
Harvest only nodded, and then the two of them took off into the dark. He left the voices of his dead children, and the staring eyes of his dead mate, behind in the shadows for another time when they might catch up to him.
