No, no, no, no! The boy ran as fast as his legs could carry him. He plowed through snow laden bushes, tripping and falling over obstacles he would have normally avoided. Nothing was going to slow him down. Vahva's howl hung in his ears; he couldn't rid them of the sound. She sounded..she sounded...he didn't even want to think about it. It couldn't be true. It was the sickness talking.
As he neared, the boy called out, letting her know he was coming. "Vahva! VAHVA!" Please! He flew over the snow, moving fast enough to create a vortex of flakes in his wake. Although he wasn't aware of it, Azalea was right. Now that there was sickness the only time you heard someone lift their voice was to announce bad, sometimes terrible news.
He arrived too late.
Sliding into the den, Laufey nearly tripped over Vahva's body. Immediately he was chilled. His voice soft, he queried, "Vahva?" Gently, the boy nudged her shoulder with his paw. This was the wolf who had taken care of him when his had mothers failed to and she was so still. Louder, he called again, "Vahva, please, no! Somebody, help! Help me! Please!" What could he do? What was there to do? Was there herbs? Something, anything! Think you idiot child! Placing both front paws on her shoulder, he shoved her hard. Wake up. "Pleeease..." And then, because deep down he knew there was nothing to be done, Laufey began to cry.
"Speech"
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