What Hurts The Most

No. No. No. His grandfather had passed away. Cairo wasn't blood related to him, since his father Collision had been adopted by the russet man, but that didn't mean he wasn't family. His grandfather had been the Adravendi Patriarch. The guardian of Valhalla, the founder of his family. And he was gone. Mother nature had taken back the russet man. The young man was no stranger to the circle of life, to the cycle of birth and death, but that didn't mean that it wouldn't hurt. He hadn't spent much time with his grandfather as a pup, so his memories were limited, but it still hit home with the young Adravendi that one of his oldest family members was gone. Dead. Passed away. No longer breathing. So many had appeared at his Cairo's deathbed, all of them just as taken aback by his sudden departure, all of them mourning the passing of one of the greatest men that had ever lived. Gael had been one of the first ones on the scene, one of the first to announce the death of Cairo to the world. Though nearly the first one there, he had come to late. The russet man had taken his last breath before the young man had been able to get to him. He hadn't been able to say his goodbye. Cairo was gone and he never got to tell him how he loved him, despite barely having spent any time with him. Gael would never forget himself for that. He would never forget that moment. It would forever remained engraved in his mind.


Thunder boomed across the land, shaking it to its very core, lightning striking the darkened heavens, illuminating the sodden earth for a few minutes before plunging it back into darkness. Mud spattered paws beat heavily against the muddy earth, powerful limbs carrying the young brute towards the lake. He had been so stoic at his grandfather's death bed, the silent tears rolling down his face and yet no one had been of the wiser, the pouring rain disguising his heartfelt display of emotion. And yet he couldn't take it. He couldn't take looking into the still face of his grandfather, into the lids that would never open again. It had been too much for the young man who had never experienced tragedy in his life before. And so he'd taken his leave, needing to find solace, to have time to himself to come to terms with what was happening. A part of him couldn't believe that it was really happening. It couldn't be. This had to be some kind of nightmare that his mind was conjuring up for the fear that his family would reject him after been gone for so long. But he had seen Cairo, seen the stillness of his body, how he hadn't responded to the touches of the white women that enveloped him. Cairo was dead. And there was no going back.


Cerulean gaze spotted the lake up ahead, it's usually clear water now dark and murky, matching the mood of its surroundings. Muddy water splashed around his legs as he came upon the shore, stopping just short of the water. The rain was relentless, pounding mercilessly against him, soaking him to the bone, matting his usually pristine looking coat. But he didn't care. He could catch a cold for all he cared about in that moment. His grandfather was dead. Did Collision know yet? If he didn't, the young Adravendi would track his father down soon to break the news to him, something he knew would fall hard on his own father. Cairo had taken his father under his wing after all, which had to mean that Collision had to have an insane amount of love for his adopted father. How he wished things could've been different. What would happened to Valhalla now? Chrysanthe was the new alpha...His aunts...His uncles...Did they know about their father's passing? If they didn't, he was sure they would find out soon enough. Silver crown was dropped, lids falling shut over cerulean pools, audits lying flat against his skull, ivory tipped whipcord limp against his hocks. Rain poured down on him, dripping from everywhere and anywhere. How could this have happened...



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