Phoenix Maplewood Remembering

Spring smiled at the mention of being taught by his Mother.  “That must have been nice.”  Spring faltered when she was asked of how she had learned.  “Well... when I turned one.  My Mother taught me for a week...”  Spring paused choosing her next words very carefully.  “Then a huge plague sickness came to my pack.”  Spring shivered at the memory.  “At first it seemed like the common cold... but then.  After a week, a wolf would wake up and have no idea who they were and just go... crazy.  Attack the others in the pack.  Eyes bloodshot.   Then, well then.  They just fell dead, eyes stretched wide open.”  Spring shivered at the memory.  Remembering.  “So I worked for six months.  Working on a cure.  Until finally it was just me and my Mother.  She had been sick for a great while.  Longer than the others.  It had been eight cruel agonizing weeks for her.  We were sleeping...”  Spring paused.  “Well I was awake.  I hadn’t slept in a long while.  I was working on a cure that had helped some of my pack mates live longer, but still ended in the same cruel fate.  One more week and maybe I could have perfected the cure.”  Spring whined.  “Then my Mother started twitching, her eye lids sprang open and she looked at me, well she looked at me like I was a piece of meat.  She looked so hungry, so unfamiliar.  Then she sprang at me, and missed.  She, hit her head on a rock and it looked like she gave herself a minor concussion.  My Mother looked at me from the ground.  And just said nothing.  Then dragged herself to her paws heading towards me.  I didn’t know what to do so I stood still, it was almost as if I couldn’t move.  Then right as she as an inch away from me she fell to the ground twitching and fighting.  She coughed up blood and it splattered on me.  Then just fell silent.  Dead.  After that I left and never looked back.  I ended up teaching myself many of the herbs I know.”  Spring looked down noticing she was trembling and felt very insecure to act this way in front of her Alpha.  She sat. So it would be easier to stop the shaking.  But her gaze dragged on the ground, wishing she could have done something to save her old birth pack.  Something.  Anything.  She should have saved them.  But she left lighter, like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.  It felt good to tell someone.