Silvertip Mountain I'm past being hungry

Only post from me

Something was wrong; he could sense it as soon as Niita let out her howl. With a shudder, Phocion answered the call, striding across Silvertip's mountainous forest with giant strides until he reached the others. His stomach dropped as he found the pack wolves surrounding a dead, dusky brown body--Zaria's body.

The small white wolf let out a mournful cry at the sight, his voice despondent. He had not known Zaria well, but he knew that she had been a noble, imperious wolf, a warrior princess, fit for glory. She was with the angels now, a beacon of light in the stars. The famine had ravaged her body tremendously; she had given all her strength to her pups. And now she was gone.

His belly further clenched as he realized Steady was feeding the pups their mother's dead, cold flesh, and he lowered his head, feeling incredibly sick. Still, that was the way of things. Phocion padded slowly to the old beta's corpse and touched his muzzle to her forehead, breathing in her scent for one last time. Peace be with you, Zaria, he murmured, a quiet prayer, his breath ruffling the fur on her head.

He looked back up at Steady, the leader of this rag-tag group, and nodded, a lump in his throat from sadness. He could not look again at the sight of Zaria's chunks of flesh laying on the ground, potential meals for their children. "Do what you must," Phocion said quietly to his alpha, head lowered. "I will hunt some more." Gathering his own famine-emaciated body, he lunged back into the trees, away from that gruesome scene. Just one more wolf the famine had taken from them. . .and what a wolf she had been.