Redhawk Caldera Lost boys go to Neverland

Peter's life recently had been rather eventful - he was constantly hungry and therefore weak, he did not wish to play or run, preferring to sleep on his own most of the time. Days lost meaning to him, there were simply moments between black nothingness and dull gray waking hours, when he could not force himself to get up and move. 

He did not engage in games and not even Ferret's sometimes cruel means of making him do something, did not help. He would simply lie there, limp and unmoving, staring in to the distance with blank expression. The little boy did not know it, but it was apparent to anyone, who was around him - he was running out of time, unless a miracle happened and they suddenly had plenty of food for both strong fellows and weaklings alike. 

It was a little unusual that Peter would leave his sleeping spot that day and walked towards the forest. He first had thought he had heard voices calling and then there was a whiff of wind that brought the most delicious smell of all. Food. And right about that time the runt was just about to believe anything his delirious mind was going to offer. Further and further he went, deliberately putting one foot after another, taking what little strength he had left, not to tumble and fall. 

No one saw or heard him leave.

While there were people dying from hunger, fights and stupid accidents, there was Hedda, who had been dying for months but hadn't been able to reach the end quite yet. At first she had relied on her master - believed that the only reason she was still alive, was the fact that she had one last purpose to fulfill - but now she had given up on this belief entirely. Keeping on living had become an increasingly hard burden for the old hag. Especially now, when the food was scarce. 

With desperation there comes courage and after many days of fruitless wandering around the unclaimed areas, she had come to a conclusion that she was more likely to find food, or scraps at least, where there people lived. And one pack had been particularly close and had seemed to her rather unguarded during the days she had spent lurking at a safe distance from the borders, watching. On the day she decided to take action, she knew very well that this could end badly for her. Trespassing was a crime punishable by death, but she couldn't care less about these rules now. It would be death either way - with a full stomach or being shred to pieces.

And when you thought about that last option... her viking ancestors would be proud. She would die in a battle. Hedda cackled at this thought, having given up on those fools for years and yet there was part of her that looked forward to an end like this. Wasn't it always more honorable to die trying than to give up? The old wolf did not get very far past the borders, for she had to stop and cough - blood spilled from the corners of her mouth and, before moving on, she spent a moment to look at it thoughtfully. How much longer? There was probably only one way to find out. She proceeded.

Peter, who had been used to follow Ferret around and had been used to get lost in 9 cases out of 10, paid no mind, when he didn't recognize his surroundings. Long gone were days, when he would be panic stricken and afraid. With the little strength he had, there was little room for any emotions or feelings left. Apathy was his new best friend - and one that he did not even try to fight. 

The sound of someone walking through the forest - branches breaking, old leaves rustling - brought him out of his trance-like state for a moment. Long enough for him to pause and have a look around. Maybe it was his brother hiding somewhere, waiting for an opportunity to pounce and pin him to the ground. Maybe it was a packmate that would bring him back to his family. Maybe... he sighed and proceeded towards the source. There was a bit of curiousity and hope that it was something good. A little food wouldn't hurt.

Hedda was quicker to notice Peter's presence than he had become aware of her. She froze the instant she heard someone coming, listening intently, her mind analyzing the sounds and the smells, creating an approximate image of the person, before she even saw it. Her first guess was that it might not be a wolf. Too small, too light. Yet... she had not seen a living prey romping around for days and she was not that optimistic to believe that it was any different here. Or could it...

She decided to risk it and carefully moved around and drew closer to see, what it was and who it was. And, when it turned out to be a meagre wolf-pup, she felt both terror and growing excitement. Hedda watched it quietly for a while, scanning the area, listening, in case any parent or aunt figure would happen to be nearby. No one came, no one called. It almost felt like a god's gift to her, therefore she stepped forwards and approached the puppy directly, purring in a malicious voice: "Well, hello there, little kitten..."

Peter jumped, when a dark wolf came into his sight, and froze in his tracks. He stared at the tall figure with fear stricken eyes and his tail made a feeble attempt to wag. For some reason this stranger - out of all he had met this far - didn't seem like the rest, yet... what could he know for sure. There were new people he met every day. And they were friends, right?

So, he force a small smile and sat down, trying to appear as small as possible, while looking up at the wolf, whose stench made the blood in his veins go cold. He had caught this smell once or twice - food, not exactly fresh, but still edible. And, what was uncomprehensible to him was, how could a living person reek of... death. It was not a figment of his imagination - it's every breath was full of it. 

It spoke to him and he looked away, beginning to tremble.

Hedda had never felt any particular affection to kids - she loathed them and therefore it was no wonder that this little fellow feared her. Old, auntie Hedda did not know, how to speak with children. Hell, she creeped most of the adults too. Yet for some reason this kid's fear seemed almost... amiable. And when his eyes locked with hers, she stopped and held the gaze, momentarily mesmerized by the intensity of that look.

It was... as if he knew, what was coming. Somewhere deep inside a child that had such a mature look had to know. Or maybe it was her sick mind playing tricks with her. Whatever was the reason Hedda, who had never cared for a single person in her life, suddenly felt almost pity towards this kid. Therefore she sat down next to him and nuzzled the soft fur on his nape. And as dripping blood streaked the young's fur crimson, she murmured in his ear: "There, there... don't you worry..."

It was a horrifying voice, one from the nightmares, horror movies... Peter held his breath, while the other wolf touched him in a way that was meant to be a soothing gesture. He did not like her being so close, yet, he had learned so far that, when it came to adults, you had to trust them and do, what they told you. They always knew better...

And against his better judgement, he dared to look up at the wolf again, taking it's face in detail - the scrawny features, the mismatched eyes. One pitch black, one hauntingly yellow, predator-like. He sighed and a thought came into his mind. The boy got to his feet and after a little hesitation raised to his hind legs, pressing his fore-legs against the scary she-wolf's side. His signature move, the one that won people over, the one that earned food. If hugs could change the world (he had also learned this), then surely... they could change this wolf too?

Hedda was a cold-hearted and cruel creature, yet even she had her rare moments, when conscience struck her. It happened now too, when this little fool decided to trust her and make a move. She almost cringed away from his touch, thinking with contempt about the useless bunch of parents, who had not taught the most basic self-preservation instincts to their offspring. This very same thought made her feel sorry for the little guy too. 

Not sorry enough to leave him be here, but enough to make a decision of ending this quickly. She would deal with remorse - if there was such - later. Therefore she struck him down and grabbed him firmly around the neck, letting her teeth sink in the tender flesh and the strength of her jaws crush the boy's spine. To answer her first question - this choice had just bought her a little more time.

Things happened too quickly for Peter to react or even understand, what was going on. All he was aware of was the crushing force around his neck, the inability to breathe and the darkness that crept from all corners of his vision, erasing images first, then muting down the sounds and finally the numerous smells that had been tickling his nostrils earlier, narrowed down to one. That horrible stench of dying body, enclosing him completely.

A small, whistling sigh escaped his throat and, as the soul left it's shell, the boy's body became limp. Somewhere a tiny heart fought for it's last beats, but the spirit once named Peter Pan Redhawk was not there anymore to appreciate it, being on it's way back to the stars than once again sang to him and welcomed him home.

The cub did not put up a fight, he did not utter a single sound - it was dead within seconds, though Hedda hold on to it for a little longer, just in case. The taste of the flesh - as meagre as it was - and fresh blood was both thrilling and nauseating. She let it go to regard her successful kill with hungry eyes. She had done it, defied the odds, right on the fringes of a claimed territory. And no one had come to defend the child - it now seemed almost justified to take it's life. 

It hit her then though that she should hurry - carrying it away to a safe spot would not be an option, therefore without hesitation she attacked it, tearing flesh, limbs, insides apart and with little attempt to chew it, she gulped it down. Fifteen minutes later all that was left of the once - cub was a mauled head and spine with little tufts of fur stuck to it here and there. Hedda did not cast a single glance back, when she left the territory, leaving a trail of her own stale-stinking blood with the fresh one of the cub's. It would not probably take much effort to track her down, but by then... she would have had an hour's head-start.

When he couldn't find little Peter near the rendezvous site, it was strange, to say the least. Eljay felt worried and decided to look for his lil' buddy. Considering he, himself, was pretty much the runt of the litter (even if there was only one pup) he felt for the underdogs. Peter was growing up to be a fine young dude, with already much more bravery than Eljay himself possessed at that age (or so he imagined) and he was such a homebody that not to see him at the site worried Eljay. Without realising he might need to inform anyone else, Eljay went to look for Peter.

At first he felt alight with hope; surely Peter would be nearby? Yet there was a churning in his heart, a worried rumble in his gut. Eventually Eljay caught Peter's trail and at first relief flooded him. "Petey?" Eljay called out carefully, and he quickened his pace in case Peter was still anywhere nearby.

His path led him closer and closer to the borders. When the scent of blood started to drift to his nostrils, Eljay's relief faded and the worried frown returned to his face. "P-Petey?" asked Eljay and he swallowed dryly as he carefully walked along the borders, terrified for more reason than just one — for being at the dangerous borders that lead to the outside world, as well as fearful for his little friend's whereabouts.

When he came around a corner and saw something in the distance, Eljay's heart beat quickened and he picked up the pace, starting to run.

"Petey!" he called out while he followed the sickeningly present scent of blood now, but the nearer he got, the more his pace slowed down, as though his body was preparing him for the let-down, as if it wanted him to stay away because this would be too great a shock and he might not be able to handle it. Yet the self-preservation worked only for so long, and as he approached, slower and slower, what he saw before him started to sink in to his mind.

"P-Pete--" but the words choked up and Eljay's pace slowed down further and further until he was left standing there. In the distance he heard a howl, but it barely got through to his mind as he stared at Peter's remains.

His eyes started to fog up and Eljay slowly and reluctantly moved over to the head that still faintly resembled Peter. He lay down, curled up around it, and whispered, "Don't worry, I'm here now, everything's gonna be okay..." while tears slid down his cheeks.

Ferret cameo

His damn brother had wandered off. Of all his siblings, Ferret was closest — in a strange sort of way — with Peter. The runt annoyed him greatly, yet he felt a certain protectiveness over him. It was they who roamed and adventured. It was to Peter whom Ferret turned when he wanted to play (read: harass).

Such a pair they would have made in adulthood.

Ferret scoured the home site with a scowl, his stomach pinched and burning from hunger. His leanness had become lankiness, accentuated by the ripple of his ribs beneath his flaxen coat and the angle of his hips, and it had intensified his temper. That he could not find Peter when he wanted to soured him badly, and it was with a stiff-legged trudge that he picked up his littermate's trail and followed it, fully intending to cuff that pup upside the head when he found him.

But what he found...

Ferret was frozen for a long time. The sight, the scent. Some part of him understood, and yet his mind was blank, so overwhelmed by the discovery that it simply stopped trying to process it. His eyes roamed from Eljay, and the maimed head that he cradled, to the detached spine and tufts of fur to the side. Here, his dead stare lingered, until he, inch by inch, paw over paw, crept toward it. He stood peering down on it, with saliva collecting at the corners of his mouth and spilling into long strands that descended toward the earth.

His stomach roared, and he gritted his teeth as they were bared in a grimace. His bent his head toward the bones... and then abruptly turned and ran away.

Having been set on the mission to try and track down the pup, Shrike had patrolled the borders and the lands immediately outside as much as he possibly could have, but for so small a creature, it had just been a matter of time and not crossing paths soon enough that the pup had managed to get far enough away that Shrike had not happened upon his trail nearly soon enough. When he'd begun his patrol, he'd been present with the option of starting in one direction, or the other. Something told him to go South from his current expedition- but surely Peter wouldn't have gone that far without being noticed, so he'd gone North, his conscience nagging him the whole time until he finally gave into it, turned atound in an uncharacteristic change of mind, and headed South. 

That little voice inside his head might've saved the pup had he listened to it, but fate was rarely so kind. It would only be in retrospect that Shrike would feel guilty for having not listened to that voice inside his head, but for now, he'd already forgotten about that nagging little voice. Call it foresight, or perhaps just a funny feeling, it's passed him by without being noticed much at all and heeded far too late. 

He caught Ferret's scent close by, and heard him rustling through the undergrowth, speeding away, and he thought nothing of it. Ferret was a quick, impulsive boy, and he half expected to be pounced by the young lad- but instead he seemed to simply speed off in one direction, almost as though being chased by something. It only struck him then that something was the matter, and when a high, mounrful voice reached his ears, his eyes sharpened. 

He felt shock sweep over him the moment he saw Eljay, curled up on the ground where there was a nearly indistinguishable pile of torn innards, blood, and tufts of fur and he knew at once what had happened. This was not the work of a natural cause, and he could smell the scent of a lone wolf, though said wolf would have already been long gone. He gritted his teeth and walked stiff-leggedly toward Eljay, touching his nose gently to the boy's cheek as he glanced just once more at the torn remains. The pup had been killed, parts had been eaten, and in haste, the stranger had left. The first image that flashed in his mind was that of Dingo, but the scent did not belong to that male. 

Anger boiled up inside Shrike, who could not bottle the surge of feelings any longer. A loud, vengeful howl cut through his throat like a sharp knife through leather, causing the hairs along his own spine to lift and stiffen. He strode away from Eljay then, saliva beginning to drip in foamy strands from his lips as he sniffed at the surrounding area, inhaling the scent of the female lone wolf, committing it to his memory. It fuelled his rage and he licked his lips to clear away the saliva before he turned to Eljay. 

"Gonna find her." He said hoarsely, his voice half growl. "Gonna go now." He said, and though he knew he probably should have waited for the alpha's orders, he would not let this scent trail go old. He would find Peter's killer, track her down and kill her. He shook with rage as he spoke those words, completely unaware of the reassurance the boy needed as he mourned the loss of the pup. But for now, all Shrike could do was concentrate on vengeance. He turned on his head, dropped his head, raised his tail and set off at a brisk lope as he pursued the female's trail out of the packlands, hoping his pace was faster than hers.

Lil' Bandit was barely noticed, so engulfed was Eljay in his grief and denial. He looked up briefly with swollen eyes when lil' Bandit arrived, but as he opened his mouth to say something, anything, not yet sure of what'd come out of his mouth, the pup already turned and left. Ears folded back and Eljay moved his nose back towards Peter's head, roving it through the soft fur of his forehead and shaking with heartfelt sobs.

Eljay didn't even look up when the other appeared, barely registered the words, and before he realised he was gone already. Eljay closed his eyes and continued to shake with sobs while he whispered soothing words into the boy's ear, even though he could no longer hear a word of them.

continued this here as for Eljay's part :)