Walking In The Past

She padded on light paws along the edge of the painfully familiar Plains. It had been so long, but her paws remembered every step. Every now and then, she’d dip her nose to the ground, taking quick, shallow sniffs, analyzing the scents. The stink of the pack that had been squatting on the lands she’d been born in, fought in a siege on, grown up on, and patrolled since she was young, was stale. It gave her a deep sense of satisfaction to smell the lack of pack scent markers, to know that Ebony had abolished Arcanum, with two of her sisters warriors along. She wished she could have been there to land a few blows.

Her tail lifted above her haunches in good spirits. The time was drawing nigh when the true denizens of Vericona Plains would reclaim the lands as theirs. With a last deep sniff as her circuitous route around the lands that Arcanum had once sat upon, she finalized the first step, veering inland with a sure stride. She fell easily into one of her old patrol routes, the nostalgia hitting her hard enough to blur her vision momentarily. She followed the route on its spiralling course toward the central Meeting area. It had doubled as a sparring ground for internal pack fighting training. The boulder that settled in the middle, with an oak growing beside it, roots coiling around one side. A sad smile drew itself upon her jowls as she gazed at it, an old scene playing through her mind; her mother sitting at the head of a pack meeting, joining Ashtoreth and Leons paws in marriage. Her own rise to the place of Heir.

With a single smooth bound, she mounted the boulder and stood there a long while, eyes scanning the surrounding plains, ears swiveling to catch the familiar sounds. Autumn would be settling onto the land soon enough. Her toes spread slightly, feeling the stone under her pads. She had set aside her plans for regaining the pack while he children were small pups, and then again after Falk had been kidnapped. It was time to begin planning once more. Not just planning; finding able wolves to fill the initial ranks when it came time to take this place back. She would wait a while longer, to let the last stink of the Arcanum pack to dissipate.

She leapt down to the ground again, falling into a quick trot down a central track that would lead into the patches of woodland that dotted the inner parts of the Plains. One of those patches held a large hill. However, she didn’t head for that patch quite yet. Instead, her paws took the fork in the path that would lead to a certain grove. As she passed under the boughs that hung over the path, she was glad to see that everything was overgrown. They hadn’t set paw here. Good. They had no business coming here.

She stood by the overgrown patch of herbs and flowers that marked the resting place of one of the greatest Monarchs she had ever known, even if her personal experience with him had been fleeting. It was his connection to her mother that made him special. She stood silently, gazing at the plants her mother had planted, and bowed her head. ”She didn’t make it. She wanted to, you know. This was going to be where she wanted to close her eyes for the last time. Not with father, wherever the hell he ran off to. With you. She never forgave herself for losing that challenge and letting that red Sovari bitch throw the pack around like a rotted deer skin… Chrysanthe is missing, but I think you’ll be proud of Epiphron; she’s a Queen again. But maybe you already know that. Syrinx is dead; but he went down fighting Isardis. Maybe he’s up there with you. And maybe mother is, too. Take care of her, Cairo.”

Her head lifted, and she turned, following the path out of the grove. Finally, her paws found the path that led to her birth place. As she drew nearer, her jowls lifted at how strong the scents were around the area. The bastards had defiled her mothers den with their presence. As her paws took the sharp turn onto the path that led into the ravine, her hackles lifted. Soon enough, she stood at the entrance, the black marble struck through with gold veins glittering under the faint green sunlight filtering through the vines and leaves covering the narrow fissure above the ravine. The scents were stale, but definitely there. Her canines flashed as a snarl erupted from her throat, echoing into the cave-den. No one answered.

Finally, she padded up the three natural stone steps and into the cool main chamber. Immediately, she rubbed herself against the wall, trying to erase the stench of those who had dared enter her mothers cave and live there. It lent some comfort to smell herself on the wall, and know they weren’t coming back. Some part of her knew they wouldn’t be back. She still wanted to rip them open. She settled for exploring every last alcove and inch of the system. Once it was all explored, she returned to the main chamber, haunches lowering to the ground as the memories washed over her. So many memories.

As the first tear slipped down her cheek, she clenched her eyes shut with a shuddering breath. Images flashed through her minds eye; playing with her siblings as a pup, practicing fighting with her uncle Cormalin and cousin Alsander. Being ill in her alcove from the plague. The vague memories of her father dragging in a bison calf for her mother. Her mother, sweet and serene, sorting her herbs and plants, and roots, humming an old tune. Another shudder ran through her frame; a choked back sob. She missed that voice.

She missed her so very much.