Everything was a mess.
Aheero’s paws felt heavy, and indeed sore, his pads torn and bloody from digging and walking and scrabbling at crumbled stones. They stung sharply and painfully, but not nearly as painfully as his heart. So much had been taken away. So much was lost. So many were lost. And it was nearing that time where those who were simply missing yesterday… The time was nearing when finding them alive was… The dog shuddered then shook his head sharply. He could not be weak, not when his pack needed him so. And he would not allow it to show. He was less effected than most after all. His family had already been long gone before the slide had happened, he’d not lost a mate or a parent or, spirits help them, a pup.
He would be the leaned upon shoulder for those who needed one. Especially their princess. Their new queen, for all that she’d not made the journey she was clearly their new leader. Who could claim that Vorona had no favor by the spirits? Who would dare, when she alone survived of the royal lineage? And if they did… if any one of them threatened her fragile budding confidence with careless cruel words… well. Then they would have him to deal with. It was to be most unfortunate for them if they hurt his Princess.
The young dog sighed heavily, sitting for a moment beneath a crooked tree as he surveyed the emptying slope. It was too treacherous, they risked the living to find the dead now. It had been a difficult order for Vorona to give, a difficult thing for her to admit. But there… there was little chance that they would find anyone else now. And dogs were being hurt in the process. Aheero glanced down at his own paws, carefully wrapped by a kindhearted cleric. They still felt bloody and torn, but at least the dirt and stones had been cleaned from them. And all the others seemed to be managing, at least as best as any could be expected given the circumstances.
But they would manage. They had to. Life would go on, the pack would grow strong again. Never give up, never give in, trust in the spirits, doubts to the wind. His father had told him that time and time again, the old Knight proud of his young Ranger son, the only survivor of his litter. Aheero lived and would keep on living for his pack. He’d work more than the skin from his paws if he had to, if they needed it, if it was asked of him. He would do anything, anything at all, to help them to grow strong again.
Their new dens weren’t much further.
Shaking himself briskly, hiding the wincing soreness as he rose again to his paws, he slipped in to pace, watching the back of the bedraggled group. There was Kurroa, his childhood friend, limping along. Awati, the pastel-colored dame. And then another pair of rangers, Ajabu and Tangayin, and more he could not name. But not enough of them. Still not enough of them, they were so few! And where were the little ones? The Jumpers and Pages, the small Squires? Gone, lost, or so it seemed.
A heavier blow their pack could not have been dealt.
“It is not much further,” Aheero heard himself reassuring an elderly dog, who only looked at him briefly with heart-wrenchingly empty eyes. He swallowed as she moved on, feeling the pain as acutely as if it were his own. She was lost, how many more had left their hearts and souls buried in the rubble?
He clenched his fangs resolutely, bracing a limping dog who seemed to be struggling to scale one of the ledges, oblivious to whether or not he received so much as a grunt of thanks. His pack needed him, but almost all of his pack had been buried in their dens. Tombs. Their home had become a mass grave. Aheero shuddered again, his pale green eyes lifted beseechingly to the sky. If ever they had needed the guidance of the spirits, they needed it now! A howl trembled in his chest, aching to be let free as a mournful cry. He swallowed it firmly, ducking his head instead to utter a soft prayer to the mountain beneath his paws. It was the mountain that had destroyed so much of them…why? What had they done wrong?
And what amends could be made that would keep it from happening again? Because he would do anything, anything at all, to keep his pack safe! To keep his Princess safe. He had sought to find the new dens, he had been a guide and a companion on their search, and then he had dug and searched for days upon their heart-wrenching return. He’d searched until dirt and blood filled his nose and his paws left tracks of crimson mud in his wake. And it had been his words that got through to his Princess, and she could blame him if she wished to. If she needed someone to blame for this guilt she surely bore. It was not her fault, she had done no wrong. She was just the one who had been left to make it right.
But not alone.
He would not allow her to be forced to do it alone, to struggle in solitude. She should know he would be there for her. He’d often tried to be so in the past, longed to be a companion that Vorona would know she could lean upon when she needed a strong shoulder. His might be scarred, but it was steady enough.
“Almost there,” he repeated in a whisper, peering over the edge of the ledge he’d just scaled to check that none had fallen behind. His eyes were drawn, as he looked, through the swirl of mist and cloud to the lands he knew lay far, far below. The flatlands. He’d often wondered about them as a child, curious as to how any land could be flat with no peaks or valleys or slippery slopes. And ever since he’d come of age he’d been wandering them, his paws leading him down the mountain and into the vast world beyond. A world where the sky seemed to touch the empty plains and the fronds of grass waved at the clouds, where felines were huge and other dogs often lived alone. Alone. The idea itself stupefied him. How could anyone desire loneliness? Who would ever seek out pain? Perhaps those who roamed on their own were simply seeking a place to belong…
…that was it. Aheero gasped at his own idea. Their pack was small, crushed and crippled. They needed strength now more than ever, and where else to find that strength than in new blood? It was risky, sure, but he knew he could find the right sort. The sort who needed a home just as badly as they themselves needed the help.
“Let the Princess know I will be back,” he called to one of the younger Rangers, and before the young dog could even nod assent Aheero was bounding back down the mountain, his spirit soaring with the hope the mountain had returned to him. He would seek the place where the earth mirrored sky, and he would bring new hope to his home. This he could do, in this way he would continue to serve his pack. Always, always he would serve the pack.
Word count: 1254
