Wolf RPG

On the fifth day, Lucani really felt it. The hunger pangs had become unbearable, and the strange illness that sucked at her stamina had her gasping for breath, jutting ribs heaving as she panted nonstop. She was wasting away. And Lucani felt a lot then as she lay upon the shore, gazing out at the sea and glancing hither and thither for a fat fish to come slurping right up to her forepaws. She felt resentment for the wolf who'd poisoned her. For if she'd had her health, she would've been able to contribute to Donnelaith in the manner it deserved, especially in its time of need. But now she was one of the poor ones, perhaps the weakest wolf in the pack — and she was an unknown. She wasn't family. She hadn't established herself here. She had absolutely no right to go asking for food when Donnelaith had a pregnant female and young puppies to feed — and so she asked for nothing and slunk out of sight when anyone glanced at her starving figure, keen to hide her state from those who would give up food for her.

Too tired to shift her forepaws even as small waves began lapping at them, Lucani began to imagine what it would be like if she'd stayed at Sleeping Dragon. Oh she would've been killed outright, she was sure of it. Not by her Alphas, but by some wild-minded warrior who realised she was a useless mouth to feed, especially in the heart of a deepening famine. She did not think that would happen to her at Donnelaith, and so she did not think of leaving. She strived to survive, for Lasher and his friends and family, and for the desperate desire to be useful. To live. For she had no life if she didn't have a use.

there was little food, and what water remained had been choked by the dying bodies of locusts. while the caches were still half-filled, lasher doled it out among the wolves in an attempt to make it last as long as he was able. the days were growing warmer, and soon summer would be upon them, but the herds had departed with the death of the green.

he had seen neither buck nor stag, nor elk, nor ruminant of any kind since the clouds had lifted somewhat. they too sought water and food, though if there were valleys shielded from the insect scourge, he did not know where to find them.

his patrols found the bittersweet trail of lucani, she with the hidden illness, and it occurred to him that his kindliness may have cost donnelaith a rank for a fitter wolf. yet he was immediately ashamed of his thought -- he set off to find her, and his eyes beheld her supine form. 

"lucani," he murmured, eyes rife with worry as his gaze drifted over the jutting bones beneath her fur. "when was it last that you ate?"

A straggling locust fluttered around her head, and her reflexes failed — her ear didn't bat it away. She wasn't the proudest wolf in the world, but she thought better of herself than to think she deserved this. Dully, Lucani wondered what would have to happen for her to catch a fish. Normally an exceptional hunter, in her current state it would have to flop straight up onto her paws... and into her mouth. It'd probably have to chew for her too.

Lasher's approach went unnoticed, and when he spoke she realised there was a high buzzing in her ears. She shifted painfully to look round at him, muzzle even lower as she regarded her Alpha. Knowing that the disaster had effected one of his wolves so early was surely a point of shame for him. Some days, she replied, her throat sandy. But I'm close to catching a fish, she lied, weary eyes becoming alert on the water's edge.

he did not believe her -- 'close' was not what he would have said, given the current and apparent exhaustion that lay upon her withers. he was ashamed that he could not keep her well, but he had accepted her into donnelaith with full awareness of her inabilities, and she in turn had pledged her life to his kith. "stay here, and still."

the druid traveled upstream some ways for a length of time, and returned with a silver trout that twisted in his muzzle, its scales catching the light. it had not been an easy catch, but he gave it to lucani. "eat." it was an order.

Even in the grip of pain and exhaustion, Lucani could not help but feel thankful for the man who'd found her. He didn't shame her, or give her scorn — he certainly didn't euthanise her. He simply set out to help her, which was not a credit to the use of Lucani, but a credit to Lasher herself. While she didn't have the strength to respond to his first statement, when the dark wolf ultimately returned with a fish she simply had to argue. Her mouth filled with drool at the sight of the fish, but she swallowed and blinked away. Lasher, she murmured. I must refuse.

For this reaction felt like the one from the Alphas of Sleeping Dragon and their desire to keep her when they knew very well that losing her would be for the best. She explained with what words her sandy throat could muster: The young ones. Osprey. Aria. It was probably not clear why she'd included a healthy yearling in her list of people she'd give up this sustenance for, but Lucani had a passionate crush on the young Alpha Female, and had a vague fantasy of providing her with her every desire. A foolish thought, she realised with a dull humiliation.

she refused, and his lips thinned into a grim line. "it was not an offer." she would eat the fish, and he would watch her do it. though he was not the sort to hold his rank overtop the heads of those who followed him, he insisted upon this, and it was made plain in the set of his jaw, though he did not bristle, nor did he raise his plume.

"lucani," taltos murmured in a softer voice. "i understand why you decline my offer, but your wasting away will not be done here. not at donnelaith, while i have breath left in my body. eating this will not take food from the mouths of the children, nor osprey, and ill though you may be, you are my wolf and therefore beloved. now, eat," he instructed, settling alongside the ailing woman.

She respected Lasher in more ways than one, but even then, even then, she could not simply obey his words for the simple fact that they were spoken. Lucani was flawed in her self-righteousness, in her desire to comprehend something entirely before she submitted to it. And she did not understand this. The sacredness he put on his wolves was beautiful, and it spoke of a morality that could bring this pack through the harshest hours, but it made her want to sacrifice herself all the harder...

Once again she swallowed the drool pooling in her mouth, and dared not look at the fish lest she give in. If you say it one more time I will eat, she promised, speaking quietly because she'd entirely lost the energy to speak up, but please let me say one last thing. She licked her dry chops. In the state I'm in, I truly don't see how I'll be able to survive the season — not with the plants gone and the herds away. Isn't it better for me to die now than to use up food and die in a few weeks from now?

he listened, and though irritation might have roiled in another to hear her deny his order, lasher knew she must speak her piece. the words given gave him pause. would she survive? it had been a long time since he had buried one of his own, and the thought of death within the beloved woodland gored him. 

he wished her to live, and looked into her pleading eyes -- lucani wanted the decision made for her, and this was something he could not do. the woman would live if he demanded it; she would eat and find strength for another day, but taltos would not do this. "i cannot make you eat -- i cannot lead you to the will to stay alive, lucani. that is your choice." 

standing, he watched her for a moment and then moved past the woman, toward the core of donnelaith. "if you choose to die, then we shall bury you here and commemorate your sacrifice," he murmured, his voice breaking somewhat on the final word. 

he continued to walk, though he was not so far away that she could not pause his steps if she so chose.

Sacrifice. It had never truly been something she'd been willing to offer a pack, but if she died now it wouldn't simply be some high-minded martyrdom for a pack she'd only just joined — it would be a sheer practicality. For Lucani believed herself right, and Lasher hadn't contradicted her: was there really much use in keeping her useless body alive to eat their food only for her to die when famine truly hit? And it was not as if she had the strength to leave the pack — and even if she'd found that strength, what was out there for her? From what she'd seen between the great redwoods, more than Donnelaith had been stripped, and the cloud of locusts had been enormous. They'd filled the sky. They would not have eaten one territory only, she was sure of it.

She had decided there was simply no hope at all.

Thank you, Lasher, she uttered weakly after him, turning stiffly to watch him go. Thank you.

Then she turned her eyes upon the fish. It was beautiful, gleaming in the sunlight. But she daren't even imagine sinking her teeth into it. She would not eat it after what she'd just explained, and she would not let it rot here with her. So she summoned every iota of strength she could muster, and slowly but surely began to get shakily to her paws. She was set on a mission: to feed a wolf, any wolf, with this fish.