The sun pulled Alpha from his rest. The sun was already high overhead, he couldn’t remember having ever slept this late—or being this exhausted. They had been running for several days already. The puppies wouldn’t survive this frantic running for much longer, and though she tried to hide it, Luna was still recovering her strength after giving birth just a few weeks ago. The run was her first real time out of the den in months the nights hard running dragging it out to years.
Three of the older wolves, including his father, had already fallen dead from exhaustion. As if the pack could hear his thoughts, all of the wolves lifted their heads in a single chorus, howling their mournful eulogy for their losses.
After running through the night, the pack collapsed under the dawning smile of morning, taking refuge under a small outcropping of earth and stone that was not quite a cave. Nearby was a small laughing stream, and Alpha drank with a single-minded determination to lap it dry before the cold turned into winter.
He had led them to the place of his birth. The spirit of the forest had guided him to back to his first home. He hadn’t been running with any conscious purpose. Just away. Away from the cruel creatures and their buzzing fangs. Fangs that ate through trees as though they were summer mushrooms.
Though he had eaten only days ago, the run had gobbled the energy from that feast down to bare bones. He was very hungry and very tired. The scars of a hundred hunts clawed at him as though they were all fresh wounds.
The pups were awake, but had nuzzled themselves deeper within the safety of Luna’s fur, the fear that gripped the pack had finally wormed into the hearts of his young. A mixture of love, fear, and great frustration welled in his heart. He let out a low, mournful howl that was almost a whine, almost a growl. He would protect his young. Perhaps they had already run far enough. Maybe the hunters had given up the chase and the pack could begin to heal.
The sounds of danger broke the exhausted silence of the forest. The glimmer of hope that had been holding back the damn keeping his sanity in check gave way. What kind of relentless predator stalked their prey without rest? The pack knew when a hunt was too difficult and when to go after easier game. Had the roles been reversed, they would have given up the hunt within the first ten, no more than fifteen minutes. Hunting strong prey made the forest weak, wither and die.
He thought of the evil glowing eyes of their relentless pursuers, and the parasites that infested them, driving the into this single-minded insanity. This predator didn’t care e about the balance in the forest, it lusted after them as though the pack were a bitch in heat.
The parasites must have driven these giant creatures mad. He had seen it before, animals spouting foam, not hungering for flesh, but wanting to bite, rip and kill just the same. Once a foaming raccoon had launched itself at him, shocking him nearly to stillness before he came back to himself and ended the poor creature’s suffering. Perhaps the predators had been driven mad by the parasites, perhaps they were driven past the point of insanity. Perhaps they were even dying. Could the parasites live without their giant hosts?
They had traveled nearly the entire span of forest. Normally they would have covered this distance over the course of an entire season, but they had done it in just a handful of nights.
The evil sounds of looming death grew ever closer. Alpha let out another growling moan tinged with the hysteria that had begun to take control of his mind.
Luna nudged his muzzle, breaking through his exhausted, frantic thoughts, and for the moment, his madness. There was love, hope and urgency there. Even though the fear told him it was time to curl up and die, her fire snapped him out of his fear and replaced the creeping madness with determination. The pack ran on.
As Alpha wove in and out of trees, however, his hope fled out ahead of him and then died. As fast as the pack was running, the sounds of danger kept drawing ever closer. Nothing could be this fast, not for this long. The fleetest of creatures in the forest also tired the quickest. The things that stalked them were unnatural. Alpha didn’t know the word for it, but in his heart, he knew that the things were pure evil. An evil so great it had swallowed the world whole.
The forest became a blur, not because he was running, but because he was exhausted. He shook his head violently in an effort to clear the fog that seemed to fill the world around him, and to fight off sleep that seemed to be chasing him as relentlessly as the parasitic monsters gaining behind. Unfamiliar sounds, unfamiliar smells, unfamiliar sights. He no longer recognized any of the land the pack was now traveling. They were in alien territory, with an alien terror chasing, chasing, chasing. The pack ran on.
The pack ran for what seemed like an entire season, the sun had been replaced by the moon, and the moon replaced by the sun as they continued their ragged run through the trees. More of the pack, even some of the younger wolves had simply laid down and died. Were it not for Luna and their cubs, he would have happily laid down beside them.
The trees began to thin around them, and then suddenly, the forest broke open onto a green field rich with purple, blue, yellow, white, and orange flowers, their stalks drooped as though they were as exhausted as he felt. The exhaustion they all felt. Bereft of the shade thrown by the trees, the sudden explosion of light brought him halting to a stop, stars sparkling near the edges of his vision. The land was washed in white. His legs stopped working.
He collapsed, belly pointing to the sky, tongue lolling out of the corner of his jaws, sweat blanketing his fur, and basked in the sun’s rays. As his exhaustion began to slowly fade, he realized that he no longer heard the sound of the pursuing predators, nor could he catch their alien scent in the calm breeze. The land was at rest, and finally, so was the pack.
Alpha felt tired. No, tired was something he was familiar with. This was an exhaustion past the point of reality. It was better to rest, he was probably already asleep and dreaming anyway. His eyes closed, and perhaps because he was very hungry, he dreamed of hunting caribou.
The sun pulled Alpha from his rest. The sun was already high overhead, he couldn’t remember having ever slept this late—or being this exhausted. They had been running for several days already. The puppies wouldn’t survive this frantic running for much longer, and though she tried to hide it, Luna was still recovering her strength after giving birth just a few weeks ago. The run was her first real time out of the den in months the nights hard running dragging it out to years.
Three of the older wolves, including his father, had already fallen dead from exhaustion. As if the pack could hear his thoughts, all of the wolves lifted their heads in a single chorus, howling their mournful eulogy for their losses.
After running through the night, the pack collapsed under the dawning smile of morning, taking refuge under a small outcropping of earth and stone that was not quite a cave. Nearby was a small laughing stream, and Alpha drank with a single-minded determination to lap it dry before the cold turned into winter.
He had led them to the place of his birth. The spirit of the forest had guided him to back to his first home. He hadn’t been running with any conscious purpose. Just away. Away from the cruel creatures and their buzzing fangs. Fangs that ate through trees as though they were summer mushrooms.
Though he had eaten only days ago, the run had gobbled the energy from that feast down to bare bones. He was very hungry and very tired. The scars of a hundred hunts clawed at him as though they were all fresh wounds.
The pups were awake, but had nuzzled themselves deeper within the safety of Luna’s fur, the fear that gripped the pack had finally wormed into the hearts of his young. A mixture of love, fear, and great frustration welled in his heart. He let out a low, mournful howl that was almost a whine, almost a growl. He would protect his young. Perhaps they had already run far enough. Maybe the hunters had given up the chase and the pack could begin to heal.
The sounds of danger broke the exhausted silence of the forest. The glimmer of hope that had been holding back the damn keeping his sanity in check gave way. What kind of relentless predator stalked their prey without rest? The pack knew when a hunt was too difficult and when to go after easier game. Had the roles been reversed, they would have given up the hunt within the first ten, no more than fifteen minutes. Hunting strong prey made the forest weak, wither and die.
He thought of the evil glowing eyes of their relentless pursuers, and the parasites that infested them, driving the into this single-minded insanity. This predator didn’t care e about the balance in the forest, it lusted after them as though the pack were a bitch in heat.
The parasites must have driven these giant creatures mad. He had seen it before, animals spouting foam, not hungering for flesh, but wanting to bite, rip and kill just the same. Once a foaming raccoon had launched itself at him, shocking him nearly to stillness before he came back to himself and ended the poor creature’s suffering. Perhaps the predators had been driven mad by the parasites, perhaps they were driven past the point of insanity. Perhaps they were even dying. Could the parasites live without their giant hosts?
They had traveled nearly the entire span of forest. Normally they would have covered this distance over the course of an entire season, but they had done it in just a handful of nights.
The evil sounds of looming death grew ever closer. Alpha let out another growling moan tinged with the hysteria that had begun to take control of his mind.
Luna nudged his muzzle, breaking through his exhausted, frantic thoughts, and for the moment, his madness. There was love, hope and urgency there. Even though the fear told him it was time to curl up and die, her fire snapped him out of his fear and replaced the creeping madness with determination. The pack ran on.
As Alpha wove in and out of trees, however, his hope fled out ahead of him and then died. As fast as the pack was running, the sounds of danger kept drawing ever closer. Nothing could be this fast, not for this long. The fleetest of creatures in the forest also tired the quickest. The things that stalked them were unnatural. Alpha didn’t know the word for it, but in his heart, he knew that the things were pure evil. An evil so great it had swallowed the world whole.
The forest became a blur, not because he was running, but because he was exhausted. He shook his head violently in an effort to clear the fog that seemed to fill the world around him, and to fight off sleep that seemed to be chasing him as relentlessly as the parasitic monsters gaining behind. Unfamiliar sounds, unfamiliar smells, unfamiliar sights. He no longer recognized any of the land the pack was now traveling. They were in alien territory, with an alien terror chasing, chasing, chasing. The pack ran on.
The pack ran for what seemed like an entire season, the sun had been replaced by the moon, and the moon replaced by the sun as they continued their ragged run through the trees. More of the pack, even some of the younger wolves had simply laid down and died. Were it not for Luna and their cubs, he would have happily laid down beside them.
The trees began to thin around them, and then suddenly, the forest broke open onto a green field rich with purple, blue, yellow, white, and orange flowers, their stalks drooped as though they were as exhausted as he felt. The exhaustion they all felt. Bereft of the shade thrown by the trees, the sudden explosion of light brought him halting to a stop, stars sparkling near the edges of his vision. The land was washed in white. His legs stopped working.
He collapsed, belly pointing to the sky, tongue lolling out of the corner of his jaws, sweat blanketing his fur, and basked in the sun’s rays. As his exhaustion began to slowly fade, he realized that he no longer heard the sound of the pursuing predators, nor could he catch their alien scent in the calm breeze. The land was at rest, and finally, so was the pack.
Alpha felt tired. No, tired was something he was familiar with. This was an exhaustion past the point of reality. It was better to rest, he was probably already asleep and dreaming anyway. His eyes closed, and perhaps because he was very hungry, he dreamed of hunting caribou.
The fields that had become their new home were absolutely devoid of caribou, however. Alpha had sent out several scouting parties, but no food larger than a rabbit or two was to be found. It seemed they had escaped one predator right into the jaws of another. Starvation.
As the days turned into weeks, Alpha saw the entire pack beginning to look haggard and thin. An underfed pack is not a pack which survives.
The scouting parties began ranging back toward their familiar home, like some kind of beacon they were irresistibly being drawn to. They returned to report finding nothing but poor hunting, and an eerily quiet forest. Alpha resolved to search in the other direction, deeper into the tiny forests of grass and flowers.
Not wanting to spend any of his pack mates rapidly evaporating puddle of energy, he slunk gingerly away from what they had begun to think of as their new, unwanted, home under the cover of a taunting moon.
The darkness of night enveloped him as he made his way into the unknown. He had stalked the night for maybe a half hour when the scent of damp that was not morning dew hit his nose. He padded toward the smell, being guided as though he were a bee seeking nectar.
Lost in his thoughts, he nearly yipped like a pup when a tiny cold paw touched his nose. He started, but nothing was there. He felt another cold paw touching his snout, and realized that the first snows of winter had come. If he couldn’t find a source of food today, the pack would not survive.
He pushed these thoughts aside as he continued on toward the source of the smell. His heart soared as he entered the loving embrace of a proper forest again, and began to wind his way through the increasingly dense clusters of trees. Soon he was among giants—verdant pines that ran far past the reach of his gaze. A feather of snow dotted his eye. He blinked the snow out of his eye and moved on.
Gingerly he leapt over a fallen log, no doubt an ancient sentinel finally brought low by a wicked wind. Its life supported the small scurrying things and vegetation that clung to the forest floor. All life served the balance. Except the monsters that had driven them from their home. He shuddered and pushed the shadow of that thought away as his paws carried him on.
His ears were greeted by the low babbling sound of water. The sound of a river. The sound of life. A river meant that they would survive.
He began a trot that turned into a run. Soon he was loping full out toward the water, heedless of the ferns, nettles, and low hanging branches that slapped at his face and sides. The whooshing of the wind in his ears turned into the roar of a great river.
He stopped just short of the bank, small rocks making tiny plopping sounds as they tumbled ahead of him into the water. His stomach roared as he saw fish jumping out of the water, trying to leap up a small fall of water. The snows may have come early, but the salmon were still making their annual journey home. Ignoring the pangs of hunger, he turned around and rushed back. The pack would survive.