dreameater

Aran Nathaniel was exhausted. His summer pelt was like leaves on his back, autumn winds chilling him to his bones.

Aran didn`t actually think that, of course. He didn`t know the words "autumn" or "summer or "leaves" or "exhausted.

But he was tired. He knew he could not make it through another Cold alone. He had travelled from the Water (Lake Rodney) and left alone some Packs - their scent was musty and smelling of pine needles like his...The Pack. Anyway, he was bad. No Pack could ever want a wolf who couldn`t talk and barely understand.

He shook his head and struggled up the mountain. There was nothing to do but Submit. Submit as he had for moons, to his Alphas in The Pack. Now he had to submit to the Spirit, and face death.

And so when he next stumbled, he lay there. And he smelled the sweetest Scent, and Aran Nathaniel was sure that death was forthcoming.

Thanks Gerra! Set up for your next post :)