Hoshor Plains Dust to the wind, Blood of my blood...

Rakharo felt like an apple got stuck midway down his throat. He couldn't make a sound. He was speechless. The Khal was looking at the remains of his brother. his bloodfang. Lavakho had been the only one Rakharo had trusted completely after Zhalia, and he too, was gone.

Maybe everything in his life was meant to be temporary. Maybe he was destined to be lose everything.

Those thoughts, fueled by sadness and anger, consumed Rakharo in a matter of seconds, and the outside world felt unreal. He did not pick the Dosh Khaleen's scent, and her words were a blurry groan in the background.

Maybe, if wolves were able to cry, this would have been the second time it happened to Rakharo. But instead, his black stare turned to the dark Khaleen behind him.

And nothing happened.