The monk had been deep within the springs' cave on the opposite side of the Vale when the rumbling shook him. He lifted his head quickly in the darkness, squinting toward the entrance of the cave some ways from him. It was a large expanse, very open; and that growling resonated around him uneasily. He stood completely still, listening for more, but there was nothing. Slowly, Tenzin moved forward until he was finally at the entrance, and he listened still. Nothing. Not even the birds he so loved to hear. He stepped outside and scented the air curiously. What had happened? Was it something within the mountain he was in? He doubted it, for it didn't sound that close to him.
Dawa. His mind became frantic. Whatever it had been, she'd be terrified. Suddenly the monk kicked into overdrive and he began to hurriedly scatter through the Vale, twisting unnaturally into turns as he looked relentlessly. "Dawa?" he called, several times a moment as often as his breath would let him. "Dawa?" he called again, but there was no response. His heart quickened. He was a man of self control but he lost all of it in times of danger particular to his ward. She was his to protect. He had saved her. That was when the great crack splintered the air. His eyes shot up to the snowcaps on the other end of the Vale.
No.
Tenzin had witnessed an avalanche on a homage journey with his fellow monks when he was only two years of age. Five years had made him, what, ignorant? He watched the first few sheets dislodge and he closed his eyes. No, he thought again, trying his hardest to picture where Dawa would have been. There? Was that where her den was? He had been so negligent of her. How could he have been so distant? The Dragon's short and broken calls startled Tenzin into action. His eyes flew open and he knew: Dawa was there. Tenzin began to run toward the falling snow but the Vale was wide. He wouldn't make it.
He wouldn't make it.
He stopped, rationalizing: the life of one opposed to the life of many. He couldn't afford to swoop in and save her - he wouldn't make it, it was as simple as that. The monk was smart, weighed the options, and turned with a heavy heart. He let out a long, steady call, picking up where the Dragon had left off. It was a warning, a great warning. The Vale wolves were in a dire situation and they needed to get as far from the avalanche as possible. In his call, Tenzin directed the wolves to the far end of the valley near the border, hoping that would give the wolves enough distance to judge the pace of disaster.
Then he headed that way too. His pace was fast, but not as fast as it could be. He was heavy with regret. It felt like he was running through thick, neck-deep mud and that rocks were tied to his ankles. He repeated his previous call but it was clear his voice was dull and melancholy. How many would they lose? How many had dens near Dawa? The monk trudged onward, leaving her behind. It went against everything he stood up for, and stood against. His conflicted brain turned him into stone. He was making an escape but he had left himself. Spiritually, he was shut down, like a circuit breaker tripping. He was merely Yasuo Tenzin, a wolf of great cultural background and only one reason to be here: Dawa.