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 Posted: Mon Jan 09, 2012 8:49 am
Hole up and hide. Hide away from the world. Hide yourself, be safe, do not wander from safety… where was safety? Did she even believe she would ever feel safe again?
She was hurt, and in a bad way. From under her front leg the blood poured without stop, but she couldn’t look at it now - couldn’t tend to it when she could still hear the sounds of desperate fighting far behind her. Her flight had been quick, and fright had given her wings toward her destination, but now… now, she was exhausted. Her limits had been broken ages ago, and she regarded herself as little more than a reanimated corpse sent to assure her son would stay alive.
Her little jester, all curled up and quietly sobbing as she carried him in her jaws. In the most loving of ways she was callous to his fears, refusing to stop when he pled for it, knowing that she would have only a small window of opportunity to find the place she so desperately sought. He would have to endure so that she could hide him from the blackness that bristled in her mind, even though he had already survived so much.
Survival… she had her son, and she had seen the calico puppy die - a scene which now repeated on and on in her mind, clouding her better judgements as she slipped amongst mud and forest debris. Impaled right through… eyes wide, but unseeing… it was so terrible…
But her son was alive. Her little boy was twisting in his skin as she nearly ground her teeth down in agony. She had one puppy…
One out of three. There had been three.
She found the fox den, right where she thought it would have been. It still smelled of rendez-vous, and she could almost remember what it looked like when it had been framed by snow. But she didn’t care for old memories, not when a new, fresh terror was seeping into the folds of her brain. Threee puppies! Three!
So… where was the other? The little one, the black-furred girl, who had…
She couldn’t remember. She hadn’t hidden her, nor had she seen the puppy flee from the scene - so where could she be? Had the boar gotten her, too? Was her little corpse lying out in the forest, abandoned along with her sister? Oh, her unfortunate daughters…
A wail caught up in her throat, but she didn’t have the strength to entertain it, far too preoccupied with tossing her son into the fox den and folding herself around him. For two wolves, it had been quite snug. But now, it was just her and her son. Her quailing, frightened little son, who she alternately stroked with her tongue without any real care for her own wounds. He smelled of blood, and tasted of it, too. She hummed a bar without a tune as though to bring him some sort of comfort, but in the same way was making the only sound she seemed capable of for the time being.
She had seen Adonai attack the boar, but was he still alive? Could he find her little daughter? Or would she lose them both?
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Posted: Mon Jan 09, 2012 12:11 pm
 The adrenaline had not yet drained from his body. He could not yet feel the pain that was to take up residence in his bones, the searing ache of torn flesh. His heart was pounding painfully in his chest, and it seemed to crowd into his throat and choke him.
He was not as young as he once was. And the grief and shock and pain and exertion were due to take a toll on him.
He followed Tiyana's trail. He couldn't smell anything but death. The pig, the pup in his jaws. But her path was easy enough to find, marked as it was with drops and spatters of blood.
He shivered and nearly collapsed as a terrible pain cut through his shoulder, but he managed to keep his feet and was, soon enough, outside the fox den. Of course she would come here. Of course.
He didn't want to set down the dead puppy.
He hesitated outside, not sure what to do. He had to get help. That was the thought that occurred to him: He had to get help. He danced from one paw to the other with uncertainty, a low whine in his throat.
Should he go back to the pack? Try to find someone who could help them? Or should he try to make Tiyana come with him? The wolf who had been so eager and heroic moments ago was now paralyzed with indecision. His brain moved like mud.
Finally, without saying anything, he made a decision -- or his paws made the decision for him. Without daring to drop the pup in his jaws, he turned silently and made his way for the pack lands. What was the point of having a pack, if it wasn't to get help at a time like this?
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Posted: Mon Jan 09, 2012 12:43 pm
 Casimir had the curious sensation, as he walked, that the forest was settling into a hush around him. He had been walking for some time, bumbling along on what the pack very generously called a "patrol"...when he began to realize, ever so slowly, that certain sounds had begun to go missing. He heard no squirrels bounding overhead. No territorial fluttering of songbirds, and eventually not even their measured, insistent calls. The only voice in the trees was the steady, inexorable breath of wind that swayed the world around him and carded through his plush fur.
A yellowy ear twisted back as he thought on this, and began to taste the buffeting wind.
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Posted: Mon Jan 09, 2012 2:07 pm
 His parents were busy tending the pack, his siblings were otherwise occupied, Balios had disappeared somewhere, and most of the rest of the pack was still a little wary of him. What did all of this mean? Quite simply, it added up the the single, undeniable fact that Rhys found himself with a lot of time and nothing to do with it.
Consequently, he had taken it upon himself to make an attempt at patrolling the border. He saw no reason why he should be an unacceptable candidate, and there were several as to why he was suitable for the position. He was quiet enough to remain unnoticed by hostile strangers, yet intelligent enough to know what to do with friendlies. Certainly, he was not yet fully grown, but he was large for his age, and what he lacked in age, he made up for in inherent wisdom.
However, whatever musings he was having while wandering around the edges of the territory were lost when he began to notice the unnatural stillness of the forest. His hackles stood on end. Something was amiss. The young male also caught another, familiar scent...Casimir? He was fairly certain that was his name. So, it looked like he was not the only one patrolling today.
He hoped that the older male was not in trouble. Still, whether it was pack or a complete stranger, Rhys was duty-bound to find out what the problem was. So, he delved deeper into the quiet.
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Posted: Mon Jan 09, 2012 2:57 pm
She was only partially aware of Adonai, as he came and went with all the substance of a terrible ghost. She could smell him, yes, but he also brought the scent of feral pig and pungent death - he brought a limp thing with him that she saw from the corner of her eye, a weak growl warbling against her cheeks as though that might make the problem disappear.
Her daughter...
He had brought the wrong daughter.
Fear and fury are, essentially, the same emotion; or, at least, incredibly related to one another. Now Tiyana was consumed with both, or either, or perhaps even a third party emotion that drew back her lips in a feral snarl and repeated as though in mantra, One is still alive, one is still alive. Where is she? He doesn't have her! One is still alive...
She had to be fine, tucked away somewhere safe. The little black pup had been clever, and would have known to get out of the way.
Right?
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Posted: Mon Jan 09, 2012 3:17 pm
Adonai was overtaken by a sudden shivering as the adrenaline flooded out of his body, his blood pressure dropping dramatically from loss of blood and overabundance of adrenaline. He felt woozy. His heart was beating quickly and ineffectually and he felt like it might explode. He still held the limp body of his unnamed daughter in his jaws and he clutched her as though afraid of losing her.
The sound of other wolves assailed him, in the unnerving silence. The sound of ground crunching beneath paws sounded deafening in this world full of no birds and no insects and no life.
Stumbling numbly over white paws, he shifted to run into a collision course with Casimir and Rhys.
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Posted: Mon Jan 09, 2012 3:37 pm
Given the unnatural silence, something about the clear, sudden rush of wolf-smell made the maned wolf bristle with unease; the scent of blood came sharp and clear over the scent of pack, and something in that odor struck him deep in his chest, made him want to whine and grovel without knowing why. Adonai, he thought, a little dazedly; Iosef's father. For the space of a moment, the shame and embarrassment he had called up for Cas at their first meeting flashed through his mind, but it was put away immediately; the big wolf began a timid lope as he followed the wind, the silence, and the smell of wolf's blood.
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Posted: Mon Jan 09, 2012 4:00 pm
Taking care to keep quiet lest there be danger, Rhys nonetheless hurried toward the scent of other wolves. Yes. There was another now, faintly familiar, but also unpleasant with blood and fear and violence.
He redoubled his efforts, and soon saw before him both males. Cas, to be sure, and another. Someone who seemed somewhat familiar despite Rhys not knowing who he was. Who was it? What had happened? With those questions in mind, he strode purposefully past the brush and into whatever chaotic situation was brewing. It was, after all, his duty as a border guard.
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Posted: Mon Jan 09, 2012 5:10 pm
Adonai broke through into vision, then, crashing through the undergrowth and looking like a wild thing. He was matted, and torn, and bloody -- soaked with his own blood, and that of the boar, and what was left from the tiny body held so tenderly in his jaws. His claws were torn. His pelt was raged. His eyes were wild and blind with grief and confusion and terror, and his chest heaved with his harsh breath and aching heart.
He didn't want to drop the pup, but he had to in order to speak...and he had to speak, in order to get help. He stood, frozen, meeting Casimir's eyes, and willed him to understand telepathy. Please come help.
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Posted: Mon Jan 09, 2012 7:30 pm
The sight of Adonai as he was set Cas's hair to stand on end; he ducked his head, looking as much sheep as wolf, and tried to work through his shock and understand what he was looking at. "A, Adonai," he stammered, his bright eyes flickering from the spotted horror in the white wolf's jaws to the weeping ruin of his pelt. A pang of dread knelled in his gut again, and suddenly he was circling at Adonai's side, his nose frantic as he pieced the day together. "What can I do?"
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Posted: Mon Jan 09, 2012 7:40 pm
Rhys could do little more than stare in shock for several moments. Was that? Surely not. No. Could it be? It wasn't...dead...was it? But the facts were undeniable. The tiny, bloodied bundle of fur clasped gently in the male's jaws was not moving. It was not breathing. It was, in fact, limp and much more motionless than even the deepest sleeper. There was nothing else it could be but dead.
Cas's broken words shook Rhys out of his shock. There were still the living to attend to. That's right. The male was not looking so good, himself. Where was his mate? Were there other pups? Were they injured, too? He waited for the answer, praying for the best.
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Posted: Mon Jan 09, 2012 7:45 pm
He couldn't bring himself to explain anything. He shook his head, trembling from head to toe, and turned, hoping the others would follow. He hardly knew who the younger wolf was -- he vaguely thought he recognized him, but he was quite sure he'd never talked to the pup. It didn't matter. Casimir had met his eyes...had understood his plea.
Cradling the pup, he turned heel and trotted back, shivering, to the place where Tiyana had taken shelter. The trip back seemed to go by faster than the trip there had; maybe it was the knowledge that he was bringing wolves with him that could help.
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Posted: Mon Jan 09, 2012 8:25 pm
She couldn't see. She couldn't feel. She didn't hurt any longer, not physically - not with a cacophany of mental images splashing like paint before her eyes. Perhaps they moved more like blood, in that they dribbled like the coagulating puddles running muddily between her toes. A boar and a puppy - a boar and a wolf - a boar...
And the scent of blood, hot blood, that would come and go, ebb and swell. Her blood, boar blood, puppy blood. His blood. Adonai's. Adonai, who had done wrong, and chosen a lifeless pup over her hidden little daughter. Adonai, who stood before her holding the mass of calico fur in his mouth as though his tenderness might do good, or bring her back.
At first, her snarls were low. A whine in the back of her throat. Not very loud, but definite sounds that mounted higher and higher upon themselves with each new scent. Two unknowns, too close, too likely to be a threat toward the little shivering puppy that seemed to become one with her red bellyfurs. Fangs that still carried bits of pig flesh were revealed as snarl became rumble, and rumble became growl, her sticky fur bristling where it could. She hunched further over her son, hiding him behind her front legs, and trembled with her own misplaced ferocity, hardly willing to allow said strangers anywhere near her little spot of safety.
They were too close, and she let them know.
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Posted: Mon Jan 09, 2012 8:50 pm
Adonai reeled backward from the mouth of the fox den, finally chancing to settle the pup down between his forepaws, laying the calico furred corpse as gently as though it were the most precious cargo. He settled down wearily to his haunches and said, somewhat dazedly, "I brought help."
His eyes flicked to his packmates, pleadingly. "From the pack. They...they're going to help."
Now that he said it, he didn't know how they were going to help, or what they were going to do, or what he was doing anymore.
He nosed the pup between his paws and groomed her carefully, smoothing all of her fur down, carefully grooming around the gaping wound. Tears burned behind his eyes but he forced them away.
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Posted: Mon Jan 09, 2012 8:59 pm
Rhys leveled a calm stare at the female. The vaguely familiar male's mate? That must be it. What was his name? He was sure Cas had mentioned it. Adonai? Something like that. But that was the least of his concerns. There were at least two injured wolves and a potentially injured pup here. He tried not to think of the other. The one that Adonai had finally set down. Undeniably lifeless, now.
He moved half a step toward the snarling lady. As the youngest, he should theoretically be the least threatening between himself and Cas. And he could help.
"Please," he said to the female, giving her that same calm, knowing look that caused some to fear him as a pup, hoping that it would help reassure her now. "Let me help you. Is your pup injured?"
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