A Silver Ray Of Hope

He felt like a real louse. If he’d just been a good pup and stayed home when his mother and grandmother had left that night, none of the recent events might have happened. But no, he’d been so curious as to why both of them were leaving so late at night, when if his mother left the den usually, she left his grandmother to watch over them. Now, his grandmother wouldn’t be watching over them ever again. She was dead. Dead. The word felt so strange on his young minds tongue. The Forever sleep. He’d never understood it before. Now he understood it clearly. It meant goodbye. And he and his mother had nearly said goodbye, because of him.

His mother staggered, and he instinctively leaned in, lowering his shoulder to catch her weight. She was nearly a third of her size, and still had such a long way to grow. His paws were still oversized, his head still large. He had all the makings of a massive wolf. He cast a glance over his mothers thin form. He’d done his best to hunt for them both, but he’d only had a few lessons from Sarak before all this had happened. So his catches were meagre. A small fawn, a beaver at the dam. And clams on the beach they had smashed into when they had washed up. But it wasn’t enough for an adult, and a growing wolf together, so they were both thinner than they should have been.

His mother nosed him, and he started on again, keeping close to her side in case she needed him again. Play was all but a memory in his mind now. Now he needed to make sure she stayed safe. He’d done his best to fix her injury, but he knew it was nowhere near as good a healing his grandmother could have given. His mother would scar, but he hoped she’d still be strong enough to hold her own in a fight someday in the future.

The trees thinned, more light seeping through, and finally, he saw the sands, just as his mother spoke. She sounded so rusty. He glanced at her, large sapphires anxious. But it wasn’t until they hit the sand, and the warm grains crunched under his toes that he began to relax slightly. But it wasn’t over yet. They were heading back to a land where fighting was so commonplace peace seemed a long forgotten luxury. Ever since he was a puppy, his mother and grandmother had regaled himself and his sisters with stories about Valhalla, and the lands they had come from before. They had told him the entire history until it coursed in his veins like his own blood. He could recite the history from memory now. He wanted that, but would his mother be able to fight for what she wanted?

The mainland was in sight, and by the rise in tempo of his mothers tread, he knew she was eager to get there. He would allow her to speed up , but only until they reached the other side and the shade; then he was going to use that protocol his grandmother and cousin ‘Sander had hammered into his head since he was small to request a rest period. ”Almost there, mother.” His voice had deepened a little while they were away. It wasn’t much, but it was a whisper of what his voice would sound like as a grown wolf.

He dared to hope his family would still be there; what was left of it...