ballad of rain

Somewhere safe. In their mind, an image of safety appears.

Their den that sat at the edge of The Polar Sound, bordering the Sparse Pines and tucked away from the prying eyes of the pack. A burrow nestled between two ancient pines- a sanctuary that was quiet and comfortable. And beyond that, was the space they shared with their parents and siblings- a place they were welcomed into, despite their growing age.

The image of home.

But their reality was far harsher than that- this boy did not know of The Syndicate. He couldn’t have been heading in its direction. Somewhere safe must mean a place out of the elements- a temporary sanctuary they could hunker down in until the storm passed.

They would have to accept the circumstances. There was nothing else they could do.

“F-fire.” They echoed his words and nodded their head slowly, agreeing with the notion. They needed to dry their fur, and get the chill out of their bones.

Finally, Iskandor found their refuge- a canopy of trees that would shield them from the elements. As he slipped inside, the rain stopped soaking Abyss’ body, but continued to fall in drones just outside of the makeshift shelter- a reminder of the danger looming just beyond the trees.

He slid Abyss off his back with ease, their body resting against the fallen log, shielding them from the howling wind that shook the mile-high woods.

He was trying to rouse their resolve with light banter. Abyss couldn’t help but smirk, their eyes fluttering open to follow Iskandor. He was searching for supplies to make a fire, determined to help them. A wave of unease rushes through their body. Why was he doing this? He had to have an ulterior motive.

“Who-" They murmur, their voice weak, but steady enough to be heard. “Who are you?” A simple question really, but there was weight behind it. Why was a stranger helping a wolf like them? A Syndicate wolf at that?

“You d-don’t know me.” Their teeth were chattering again, their gaze distant and hazy, but locked on the boy’s face. “Why are you doing,” Their eyes fluttered shut for a moment, their breath catching in their throat as they fought through another wave of nausea. “This?”

Abyss would never go to these lengths to help a stranger. They were focused on self-preservation, a concept taught to them by their Mother. Survival of the fittest. And their survival- the survival of their bloodline, of their family- was far more important than someone else's.

They would have left the boy for dead if the tables were turned.

"Abyssinica"