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 Posted: Wed Jan 04, 2012 2:27 am
Later, when Adonai had time to reflect on the event, he would be horrified. He was a pacifist, a firm believer that senseless killing could not be avenged with more murder. Perhaps that was why he was so disturbed by his daughters, by the warrior code that had taken his pups away from home.
But at the time, he could feel only rage. He tore at the beast for a long time after it stopped moving. Tears streamed down his cheeks, and his paws bled where his worn-down claws became broken and torn. His jaws ached. He tasted blood and bile in his throat and after awhile he fell back from the pig to vomit, heaving for a long time before his bowels were at peace.
Then, as if in a dream, he made his way back to his broken calico daughter. He had no way of knowing that the other pup was there, hidden, beyond his view. He didn't know to call to her and let her know it was safe. If only....if only. His nostrils clogged with the scent of death, half-blinded by tears, the slender white wolf gently took his lifeless daughter in his maw and padded miserably after Tiyana's trail, oblivious to his own bleeding wounds.
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Posted: Sun Jan 08, 2012 11:30 am
All of it.
She had watched all of it.
Had seen her sister die within seconds. Her brother's blank-eyed, shocked stillness. Her mother's desperate lunge. Her... father's miraculous arrival. The injuries, the blood, the ferocity of the fighting. Had watched as her mother was thrown clear. Saw her brother rescued. Her father heave painfully over the boar's remains.
...her sister's corpse retrieved.
And still, she remained where she was, fixed in place by instinct stronger than fear. To move was to die, that much she was certain of. She was uninjured. No one would come succor her terror. No one would wash the blood from her tacky fur, or nuzzle her gently to soothe the trembling that had locked all of her baby muscles into uselessness. His scent told her easily who the male was.
And he cared only for the dead one who looked like him.
Honoria remained motionless for long hours, ears and eyes fixed grimly on the blood-splattered abattoir that the clearing had become. Slowly, her trembling eased. With the lengthening shadows, her inaudible whimpering tapered into complete silence. Gaze fixed on the direction her parents had fled, she simply lay still, buried to the nose in the blood-slick soil.
They had left her, and they hadn't come back.
Without a sound, she scooted her small body back, wedging herself tightly beneath the edge of the boulder. Digging in her small, sore paws, the pup lay her head down between them, exhaling in a slow, carefully controlled breath before she began sweeping the area with her eyes.
She didn't look back towards the path her parents had took.
There was no reason to.
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