"Nothing revives the past so completely as a smell that was once associated with it." ~Vladimir Nabokov
In all his years as a wolf of the pack first known as Starlite, then rechristened Valhalla, he never expected the events of today. He hadn?t expect that he would have fallen in love with Blu, nor that he would have ever become beta of Valhalla in the old Alacritis lands. He never expected to leave his first home since Acanthos and he had been ripped apart from each other, by the claws of the avalanche. He didn?t expect to get to come home and tell Blu how he felt, and he sure as hell didn?t expect to be leaving Valhalla?s borders so infuriated.
He just didn?t understand where Aislyn had gotten the nerve to treat him like that- to treat Blu like that. He had spent years serving Valhalla, and she just assumed it was his fault that he left? Like it was some selfish reason? When had Chronos ever been selfish? He hadn?t made it far from the borders of Valhalla when he felt the familiar rushing in his head. Sounds magnified and his vision swam, and he shook his head violently as he staggered to a walk. As always the flash-back ended with a heart wrenching screech and a flash of red.
Panting he sank to his haunches, reveling in the feel of the cool ground underneath him. The dizziness slowly faded, back into the dull throbbing headache that had become his constant companion since he had his first lucid moments. The sun was sinking into the horizon, its warm glow slowly dissipating into the night sky. Star crept out, adoring the light blue night, as the eastern horizon slowly turned into an inky velvet blue.
Head tilted back he stared through teal colored eyes at the stars, contemplating his choices and the consequences of his choices. His head was amuck with the chaos of his thoughts, so much so that when the summer breeze ruffled his fur, he missed the scent of another, another that meant more to him than his own life, his light at the end of the tunnel.