The Heartwood blood of the wolf and heart of the lamb

Though the difference in discomfort was little, Kadezj could feel parts of his body beginning to heal. The loss of his pride remained the biggest injury he had taken in the loss of his challenge for leadership of the Khalas, but he refused to believe he would not get it back. Like most things, he was set to get worse before he could get better, and it dampened his spirits.

His companion, Justice, was off seeking a place for to them to stay on a longer term or who knew what else. He was left alone, inflammation throbbing through his veins on the feet of a thousand buffalo stampeding around his blood. He lay curled up at the base of a pine tree, his nose tucked into his tail, his size diminutive in this position. He could have passed for a full blooded coyote like this - weak and fetal, just waiting to be culled.

Kadezj flattened his ears. His eyes were wide, aimed in the direction of the Lake - but he could not see it from here at the edge of the wood. He did not like being far from it. He needed as much fresh water as he could take in. But the night air was below freezing, and he could not force himself to make the journey. Instead, he was forced to do the only thing he could: engage his own dangerous mind.