Sometimes you just can't win for losing

Rhyme was gathering herbs around the base of the Volcano with Solitude when the faint cries reached him. They sent a horrible chill up his spine and made the white raven take to the sky. The slate alpha took the time alone to gather herbs for his needy pack. The fire had destroyed a whole garden and used many of their supplies in aiding the wounded. He might never have heard the commotion had he not been taking the alone time.

Icy paws carried him swiftly towards the voice he knew was Alma’s. Solitude saw everything first, and the call he made caused Rhyme’s heart to drop. He slowed at the smell of blood overwhelmed him, but still trying to be hopeful he returned to his long stride before his blue and lavender gaze fell on the gore left behind. He went numb as Tana’s still body filled his vision.

She was gone, there was no doubt with the blood that pooled beneath her tiny body like the cape she had worn. Rhyme approached slowly, and gently nosed against Tana’s bloody cheek. There was no reaction, no heartbeat, no breath. Seeing neither of her companions, he could make out the difference between Tana’s and another small creature. There were paw pints of blood leading away, at least one of her companions had been dragged away by what he guessed was a cat.

He sighed heavily as his gaze settled back onto Tana’s form. Rhyme knew what he needed to do. With great care the dark wolf would wrap the mother of his children into the long folds of fabric that had been stained with her blood. He would bring her home to Abaven, to be placed next to their son. Shock settled over him as he worked at his gruesome task.