I Remember Your Face

Winter was once more claiming Boreas in its cold grip. As the days marched on further and further from late fall and into early winter, the world began to shift for the colder. Frost covered the ground through the night and into early morning. In front of his eyes, Alastor's breath formed a dense cloud of humid condensation before vanishing like a ghost into the chilly ether. It was still fairly early in the morning, the dawn sun just starting to peek up over the eastern horizon as he trudged along the banks of the Rio Grande, crunching frosted grass beneath heavy paws. He had made one last trip back to the prairie den his family had started in to make sure there were no left behind belongings before Manea got the pack set up somewhere on the eastern coast. Now the dire wolf made his way back across Boreas, a trip he'd been making more and more frequently as of late. His paws, aching and tired, were ready for a well deserved rest.

Alastor hadn't slept much the night prior, unable to settle while away from his family. It was a protective trait he'd developed following the birth of his children, it seemed. Perhaps that was why the usually highly alert wolf missed the initial snare trap he stepped right into. His paw hit the trigger, and the next thing he knew, Alastor felt a rope tighten around his ankle, and then a pressure try to yank him off his paws. His weight was too great though, and Alastor instead watched as the snare failed, its counterbalance dangling uselessly in the air. It wasn't heavy enough to whisk the heavy dire wolf off his paws. It was actually quite comical the more he thought about it!

Grinning to himself, Alastor gave a short laugh and began to look around the nearby woods, seeking out whoever had set the trap. It had been a good effort; the snare was well made, just sadly lacking enough weight to take him down. Alastor lifted his paw and bit through the rope with ease, watching the rock used as a counterweight drop harmlessly to the ground. He chuckled again and continued on, wondering who was setting a trap for wolves—when another snare went off around a hind ankle. This trap, however, had a heavier counterweight.

Alastor had been expecting another failure, so imagine his surprise when the giant dire suddenly found himself being thrown to the ground and dragged back. He yelled out in surprise, clawing at the ground to try and stop himself as the snare pulled him back to a nearby tree, then hauled him up into the air by his hind leg. Alastor blinked back surprised obsidian eyes, trying to reorient himself as he hung upside down from his leg. He squirmed in the trap, flailing in the air like a living piñata, but ultimately was unable to free himself or reach up enough to bite through the rope. He was well and truly trapped this time.

Ahhhhh... fuck. Well, looked like he'd be waiting for whoever set the traps to come and cut him down, the massive black behemoth swaying gently while he waited, hoping they wouldn't be long before all the blood pooled in his head and he perished.


"Alastor"