Packland excursion

While Vitus was a little sore from his loss, both physically and emotionally, he decided he wouldn't allow himself to sulk. If there was anything he knew, it was that his siblings needed him. Well, he believed. The young boy also believed he was born solely to protect them, that it was his destiny to lay his life before them and become their soldier. To keep them safe, secure, and stable. He would lay everything at their paws, and it was the reason he kept his silence this long, kept himself from play, from the emotions he couldn't yet name. So he dragged himself from the den, his eyesight still slightly blurry on his left, his shoulder still aching and the pulling of wounds still healing along his shoulders and face. But he felt better, felt less depressed than he had. The child had lost, and he vowed he would never lose again.

With a deep breath he moved through the soft underbrush of the sparse pines, feeling the rough feeling of the undergrowth at his paws as he shifted through the thin layers of snow at the bases of trees. It was here that he would wait, hoping that he would catch sight of his siblings. Maybe they would play in a game that Vitus so rarely allowed himself to partake in. Maybe they could bond and play and spend a day away from the emotion of the den, away from Vitus' sadness and regret, away from all the things he didn't want to think about right now. Maybe they could try their hand at hunting, or get into havoc that boys their age seemed to always get themselves into. He settled in at the base of a larger tree, a small smile upon his face as he relaxed in the cool embrace of snow.


"Burn Baby Burn"