A Silver Ray Of Hope
She staggered slightly, pausing as her now very large red son caught her against his shoulder. He’d grown so swiftly while they’d been lost, going from a pup who followed his curiosity more than his brain, and had gotten them into this scrape in the first place, to a serious male, who somehow had inhaled all of his cousins teachings about honor and how to treat a female. Stubborn, polite, and attentive. She was proud of him. Her shoulder felt so sore, though the gash the rocks had opened there was on its way into the last stages of healing. How had Regulus managed to inhale so much of Erani’s knowledge? If not for her son, she’d have been much worse off.
Erani… Surreals heart panged with the recent loss. Of all the wolves in her life, her mother had been the closest to her heart. Even eclipsing Falk. It was the special niche filled only by a parent, and none could occupy it anymore. She nosed Regulus’ shoulder softly, indicating she was steady enough to move on. How long had they been gone? She wasn’t sure. Where they were, she couldn’t say, but she caught random whiffs of scent that reminded her of golden eyes and bright blue feathers. Where was Batte-song? The last she’d seen of her friend, the hawk was being swept away on the strong winds of the storm that had helped to take them off course, along with Regulus’ sudden curiosity.
They continued on, until at long last, Surreal saw something that triggered a memory. Bright, shimmering sands, with sea on either side. ”Regulus… I think we’ve made it.” Her voice cracked slightly, her throat being parched. The last water they’d found had been yesterday at a dam. ”We’re nearly home.” But would any of them still be there? Had Falk given up on her? What about her daughters? Please, please let them be alright.
They broke out of the treeline, and she felt the sand under her paws, felt the hope rise in her chest. But dare she hope? All she could do was force herself to keep walking, though her stride was more assured now that she knew where she was. The heavy limp, she hoped, would fade with a bit more time and rest. With how assured Regulus had become about being a stubborn, fussing male, she’d be getting plenty of rest. He was growing into himself, and becoming so much stronger for it. And he wasn’t even a yearling yet.
Finally, she saw the smudge of mainland clarify in the distance, landmarks becoming visible. No doubt about it. They were nearly home.
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Regulus |
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...
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