Sly Fox Sand Dunes and there in the deep i lay

he'd stayed with the shadow wolves until his paw had healed, and then he'd run. 

he'd run for a long while, though with no idea of where he'd been running to. days passed quickly at first, and then they turned to long tormenting hours. what weight he'd once carried was now middling, ribs beginning to display themselves along his sides. 

he hunted well enough to keep himself alive, and that was all. 

the autumn days were cool at first, and then they turned bitter. he'd not minded the chill, he'd been born to alongside a glacier after all. but as he thinned so did his resistance to the cold. he sought warmth and had run to the desert as a refuge, unknowing this place might serve as his grave. 

it been days now and he could not find his way free of the sand. alone atop a dune the boy collapsed and lay there, waiting to be picked apart by the buzzards that hovered overhead.