Silvertip Mountain Another road to travel

FitzDutiful was in his way to see Zaria and the pups. He had been out for the day, hunting some small game for them to all eat. The pups were getting so big already, a month or so they were just beginning to eat regurgitated meat: something he hoed would please Zaria. They were less dependant on her now. She was able to get more time to herself though they had yet to have time to themselves as a couple. Trotting along he was thinking how proud she would be of him. FitzDutiful wasn't a dedicated hunter but he had managed to procure three fresh hares for the quad of puppies.

He was maybe two minutes away from the pup den when his head began to hurt again. It had been on and off for the past few weeks but he was pretty sure it was just a series of migraines; he put down the meat and stopped for a moment. Shaking his head he looked up, hoping to see some of his children playing at the den entrance like they often did.

Suddenly it was as if a hammer hit his head, massive pain erupted from the front right of his forehead and he yelled in such agony. It probably sounded as if he was being ripped open by any attacker. Such pain he had never experienced before in his life.

Then it stopped.

Slowly, his body swayed from left to right. It swayed one way, then the other, then back to the left before falling over completely. He was still now, free from pain and trauma and would know no more worldly pain.

His soul would follow his family for the rest of his days, watching and protecting them; rooting for them in all things they did. Never would he judge them for he had judgment no more; he would ever understand them and love them for being who they were.

Zaria was by the den entrance, often letting her pups out to play seeing that it would tire them and she knew that the mountain was safe, they were in the heart after all. She had grown a bit more loving, puking up meat was still a weird concept but she learned because of Fitz. The young mother perked up her ears when she heard a cry. Fitz's cry. The female's heart sunk in her chest. "Fitz!," she cried out. She was not a soulless monster. She might have pretended in the beginning but as strange as it was she truly loved FitzDutiful. She trotted in his direction when she came to a stop. The pups. She was torn between the two.

Fuck. Damn them! "Stay," she spoke, knowing they could understand several words by now. She wanted to threaten them if they didn't stay by the den but her own panic was something that hurried her. She sped off, not very responsible as a mother but she heard her mate. She knew something was wrong. Zaria was quick to reach Fitz, who was collapsed on the ground. "FITZ! FITZ!," she let out, her emotions for once letting her voice choke up. She even stumbled herself as she got closer. She nosed frantically through his fur, her paw pushing against him. She had seen a fare share of dead bodies in her life but she was reluctant to believe it. "No!!! You were not suppose to die! You are the good one! You were my good one."

What was she going to do without him!? She looked around, for once not knowing what she needed to do. She let out a howl, her green eyes staring at Fitz his body. She realized they were becoming blurry. No, this could not be happening, this was a nightmare. This... No. Fitz was her family, she couldn't be losing her family again. Her family. Her pups. Their pups. She swallowed thickly, as she turned away. "I'm so sorry," she choked out, while rushing off back to their young. She never deserved him, this was what happened in return. And now, all she had was the young children that had their blood.

Mason heard the strangled yell - he had been on his way to see his brothers and sisters again, as he so often did, and so he happened to be nearby. He could tell it was Dad's voice, and Mason's heart pummelled his chest with fear and adrenaline. He turned on the spot and charged in the direction of the sound, ready to defeat whatever foe was attacking his father.

He didn't realise he had nearly passed right by Zaria in his rush.

FitzDutiful had already toppled into what appeared to be a peaceful slumber (at an awkward angle) when Mason managed to reach him, and he hesitated suddenly, skidding to a halt. There would be no last words, and no promises of undying remembrance. The boy - for that is what he was in this moment, merely a boy - stepped over to his father's body. Mason wasn't stupid. He knew what this was - the ultimate journey. It didn't look like he had been attacked, or poisoned. How old had Dad been? How old did wolves live for? Why was this happening to him?

The questions flooded his mind, then suddenly stilled as Mason flopped down beside his father's limp body and numbness took over. The adrenaline slowly dripped out of him - this was a foe he couldn't fight.

He didn't know if he should be crying, but the shock wasn't allowing any tears. He managed a dry sob of strangled despair.

Mason's thin muzzle was laid to rest across Fitz's narrow shoulders, and he mumbled the words carefully into the fur. "Love you forever, Dad."

It was not only the cry of agony she heard, but the howl of Zaria that brought Krypton galloping to the scene. The presence of her superior was gone, but the other lay upon the ground, eerily still. She had heard Zaria's words and sobs, but it seemed she had ran off. Either to mourn or tend to her little ones, Krypon didn't have time to decipher. What mattered was FitzDutiful.

It however seemed that Mason beat her to the spot, he was already laying next to his father like a devoted child. Krypton's pace slowed to a hasty trot, making her way over to Mason. She arrived, in silence.

she looked over the pale man. He looked at peace, no pain covering his visage. She quietly lowered her head towards his body, nudging it as if she were trying to wake him up. Her lips let out a whine, her ears flattening in sadness.

She turned to face Mason, giving him a bow of the head to show respect and take a place sitting next to him. She nudged his shoulder with her muzzle, trying to comfort him.

 She however stood up, backing up a few paces before showing the most respect she could muster. Her entire body bowed as if it was a feline stretching, her head lowered and eyes shut.

Be at peace FitzDutiful she whispered.

Chaska bolted to the scene. There it was, happening all over again. Or so he thought, until he arrived. Only one had died. But he felt no relief in this. For the one who had fallen was what he saw as a friend. A great friend, who had given him shelter and shown kindness. And all he had done to repay his efforts was tell stories. 

He didn't want to look at him, his friend who had now passed on. Too much sorrow was building up. All those emotions resurfaced, they would drive him to depression. He didn't want that. Then he recalled the others, how they must have felt. For them, he would stay alive. They were all a pack, and no matter what, he would do everything in his power to protect what was left. 

He slowly trotted over and placed his muzzle against what was left of his alpha. "Goodbye, my friend..." Then, he raised his muzzle to the sky and lee a sorrowful howl.

So much sadness in one thread

It was on her twenty-eigth day of life that her ears straightened up.  This happened only minutes from her Father’s death.  Odette had just been sitting at the edge of the den quietly, so very still, when her ears straightened up.  At first it was a surprise.  Yet another glorious gift had been given too her!  Now she could see and hear!  Touch, sound, sight, taste, smell, the ability to move!  It was all so lovely... so wonderful.  The joy of sound lasted for a few minutes.  She enjoyed it, loved it even.  Odette's tail wagged happily with joy.  This was glorious!

Then she heard a voice, a yell.  It was the first voice she had ever heard and it was knitted was pain... oh so much pain.  Her Mother left with a single word: Stay.  She did.  Yet the sound had been pretty close so the pup scented the air.  In attempts to figure out who it was.  When she scented the air, Odette was surprised and for some reason that she did not yet understand her heart felt as if it had been turned into a heavy stone.  It matched the scent of the black and white wolf.  The one that she had wanted to stay with her.  She didn’t understand death, nor pain entirely.  It was simply not in her knowledge range yet.  Although she could feel that something was different, something was wrong.  Something... no someone was... gone.

Gone forever.

Steady had been diligently patrolling and marking the borders. His anger over their new neighbors had lessoned, but not his determination to see they stayed on their side of the border.

It was his duties that kept him away. He had not known anything was wrong until a sorrowful howl reached his ears. He didn't think before he headed in the direction in which it came, his legs not carrying him fast enough.

The scene when he arrived was heartbreaking. It was obvious Fitz was gone, but why? What happened? he asked allowed, though didn't really expect an answer. Gingerly, he stepped to Fitz. Brother, he said softly, his head lowering to Fitz' neck as he nuzzled it gently. A whine escaped his throat as the loss sunk in.

The dark male sat back on his haunches and lifted his muzzle to the sky, singing his loss of a great leader, and a beloved brother.

Stoic did not understand what was happening. Mother was crying, which greatly concerned her. He had begun to form words and comprehension, and mother was sad. "Merrr," He whined, although it was not a selfish gesture. What was wrong? He did not know his father well enough to cry, or to be affected by his abrupt death as of then. he nudged against Zaria, trying to make her stop. He did not like this at all, not one little bit.

"S'merrr?" He questioned, trying to get her to speak. He tried to climb her, reaching as high as he could to lick her muzzle. In the end, he settled to resting upon her, his own way of trying to comfort her. Whatever cause Mother this much grief would have to deal with him, or else. Never would Mother feel like that again, as long as he was around.

June is late to the gathering, but though distraction pulls her awry more than once on her way, she's nevertheless drawn in by the co-mingled smells and sounds of many wolves. Though generally quiet and introverted, June is also drawn to social interaction, and this drags her out of the shadows of the mountains to view whatever spectacle has the pack in such a tizzy. The small coltish thing approachs on light paws, craning her neck to peek around the wolf ahead of her (Chaska), and that's when she spots Mason's freckled fur. She hastens her steps, sensing something amiss, and when she sees FitzDutiful, it's with the innate animal understanding that he isn't there anymore.

This does nothing to quell the banshee-like shriek that tears from his childish daughter's muzzle as she breaks through the crowd, for now heedless of them all, and collapses atop FitzDutiful. For June, the loss of a loved one hits like a pile of bricks. She has yet to mature to the point of being composed what with her developmental hurdles, and even Mason's calm and steadying presence is not enough to keep his sister in check. She sobs openly across FitzDutiful's cold and still flank, and remains there until someone forcibly pulls her to her feet and away from her deceased daddy.