It's Darkest Before The Hope

The days were getting colder… and the brute grew lonelier with each passing day. He’d last seen an Abaven wolf by the name of Asha, thought her nice, but even her company had gone away after some time. Perhaps it was to be expected… But that didn’t mean it hurt any less. He missed his good friend Bass… missed his beloved wife. Missed hanging out with Bass’ kids and being like an uncle to them. He missed interacting with others in general… and what once was. Getting older was getting hard… and the older gentleman had the feeling he didn’t have too much time left in this world. He was already eleven… his sight beginning to fade and senses dulling…

Allen hardly wanted to die alone and miserable. But right now that seemed like the only possible option for what was to befall him. The brute let out a breathy sigh and rolled onto his side within the small den he’d made for himself out of an abandoned badger set. A bit of extra digging and it had worked well enough… but he still felt the cold chill of the air every time the wind blew, calling out to his lost soul. His ears perked, wondering for a moment if he truly heard pawprints being made within the snow… but… what if his mind was just playing tricks on him?