Broken Boulder when the city goes silent, the ringing in my ears gets violent

@Korei Julia <3

Tucked away behind the bracken forest, the territory of sawtooth stone and winding tunnels had quickly become the pack's sanctuary. The Bracken Sanctuary. Bright as it was this night, the moon blanketed the earth with gentle shadows, casting a slim ashy caricature across the ground of the boy exploring fervently under its light. He slipped briskly between slanted boulders and over jagged patches of stone, head low. There was little joy in his hurried expedition. Briefly he would feign interest in a discovery, stop to sniff deeply or admire the sky, but his heart was not in it. The night came down to distraction; his means of survival, for now.
Alarian was many things; he could be kind, selfless even, and he could be patient and gentle but-- he couldn't be strong. He had never been strong. The boy had come to know the world as a place for those with strength, power. That he had survived in it this long was perhaps equally a miracle and a tragedy, when it had no true place for him. Eyes drawn skyward, Alarian wondered if he was ever meant to be happy.
He should have been, now. Everything was over, they had found a home, but-- but he was suddenly feeling everything as if for the first time. The dust had settled, and now that he could see the damage done it felt irreversible.
"Alarian."
The boy whipped his head around at the whisper, immediately assuming one of his packmates had found him. Nothing. He came to a halt, ears flattening suddenly, and another whisper, this time incomprehensible, danced over his left ear. Alarian swore he could feel the hot breath ruffling his fur. He jerked his head to the other side, movement stiff and mechanical. Something wild and unnatural glinted in his eyes. Hackles raised, he took a few steps back.
What-- what are you? He demanded, suddenly certain something was tormenting him. A spirit? Had he been cursed, followed-- was this a ghost from his past? The boy's mind flashed to his father, and a deep shudder wracked his body.
The silence that followed unnerved him; it was as if all sound had been removed from the world. Even the rustling of trees was gone to his ears. He shuddered again, mind racing.
Is it me? Am I going crazy? Or is this real-- am I haunted? Do I deserve this? What if--
He felt it then, looming over him. Alarian froze, too terrified to look up, but he knew if he did he would see it-- whatever it was. He would come face to face with it. One beat, two, three-- a deep, gurgling growl surrounded him, and stones dropped heavy in his stomach. His chest tightened, breath catching, and after a moment his terror became too great.
The boy shrieked and launched himself backwards, expecting to meet with the body of his tormentor. At first he felt only the frigid night air through his fur, the briefest flash of confusion. Alarian hit the stone hard, skull bouncing with a dull thump from the impact, and he knew no more fear-- only the blissful dark of unconsciousness.