Wolf RPG

Silver eyes drifted between the vivid autumnal colors surrounding the den, but there was no light of recognition in their vacant gaze. The beauty of fall was lost on Tuwawi who laid coiled at the mouth of the Sveijarn burrow, lids red, heavy, and dark from sleepless nights following Larus' kidnapping. The pack had been quick to assemble and pursue Njal's trail, but his fleeting scent had soon been lost. The silver alpha had not yet returned to them, causing Tuwawi to fear the worst. With no blood trail or corpse, the enigmatic unknown generated more fear than sorrow. Were they alive? Dead? Caught in a ditch and suffering agony?

Guilt fell second to horror and panic, and it weighed Tuwawi down. They had lived in this land only a few weeks before the unthinkable occurred. Duskfire Glacier was a territory Tuwawi herself had hand-picked. If only they had stayed in Swiftcurrent. If only she had listened to Scimitar. She had been so sure, so confident, that this was the right path... but everything had been ruined and only Tuwawi was to blame.

The children were on lock-down, viciously guarded by their mother, as members of the pack searched for the golden-faced boy. The children could not know her sorrow — Tuwawi needed to be strong... but when they had fallen asleep she had openly wept. Her chest ached and throat burned, but despite her desire to join the search party Tuwawi was unwilling to leave her remaining three children. Now, without Njal at her side, the cold sensation of desolation tickled at the back of her spine, and suddenly the alpha found herself very alone.

Though not familiar with who he should be searching for, the stray had followed distant instructions to search for a child and another pack superior. The turmoil of the pack felt strange to the stranger, but knowing that he would be worse off on his own, this felt like nothing by comparison to the loneliness, something he knew well. He didn't feel as if he were being particularly helpful in any fashion, but he was eager to do more than simply search for wolves he'd never met before.

Stranger had a warm hare in his bloodied jaws, and he was moving steadily towards Tuwawi's den. Her name he had procured elsewhere, and also the knowledge that she had fairly young children (one of whom was missing, along with her mate). He found her den by scent alone, though felt the time of his arrival had been unfortunate at best. She had been crying, and from her slumped frame there exuded a palpable sadness. He kept several yards back, lingering awkwardly with the offering dangling limply from his mouth.

He kept the rabbit in his jaws, if only to keep from saying something foolish like: "I'm sorry."