Pack Event- The Mountains were Groaning

He was swept. It was the equivalent of taking a mountain to his side. He thought to leap at the last moment, previously frozen in place at the howls of warning, lost without direction; what was he to do? There was no one around to guide him, to nudge him towards a safe route. An instinctual urge to flee from danger had shaken his form, but the shadow of his anxiety had locked his limbs in place. Swept away thoughtlessly like a leaf in a rush of wind.

On the outer edge of destruction some would have thought he was lucky. The blackness of dirt, rock, and snow had released him, and with some resistance the dark figure flung his eyes open. Soreness crept over his body, unfamiliar with the ache of his bruises. The gash in his hip, which had taken damage a few days earlier in a hunting accident, had been ripped open. His nose thickly coated in snow could catch the rich scent of his own blood.

A vague awareness of his surroundings revealed the bark digging into his back, his anchor in this sudden turmoil. When knocked off his three good legs, he lucked out enough to somehow slam up against the tree's trunk, saving him from an early burial but not without it's consequences. Surprisingly he hadn't been torn in half by the force of the mountain, but the effort to do so left internal damages.

Choking on the air he shuddered to release from his lungs, a splatter of blood leaked from his maw, driving through the sharp pain to inhale once more. It was an exhausting effort soon soothed by a blanket of slumber.