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Chapter 8: Divided We Fall

Humphrey's eyes popped open and his head shot quickly up from the ground as a faint, but oddly familiar scream assaulted his ears, but he quickly regretted such an action, for as soon as he moved, he felt his entire body rebel in a painful fit of spasms and throbs, causing him to lower his head once again to alleviate the pain.

For a moment he lied still, trying to remember what had happened to him, but after a span of about ten seconds or so it all came flooding back to him. He had fallen out of the train; Fate had decided that he had gone far enough, so here he was, though where exactly he had wound up was a mystery, and would for now remain a mystery, for that was the least of his concern at the moment. Again he lifted his head, though more slowly this time and felt his stiff neck crack as the inflamed muscles around his spine tugged at the disks between his vertebrae. He knew that getting to his feet would be excruciating, but he also knew that the pain would only grow worse if he continued to lie here, so, mustering as much strength as he could, he rolled himself over onto his stomach, positioned his paws beneath his body, then began to slowly push himself up.

He grimaced and groaned as his trembling legs lifted him higher and higher from the ground, until finally he was righted upon his paws.

"Alright," he panted to himself, "baby steps."

With a wince, he shuffled one of his forepaws forward, then brought his hind paw to follow it, but had to pause here for the pain caused him to lock up.

He suppressed a growl behind tightly clenched teeth and once the pain subsided, he took another step.

Each movement he made provided for him a pain that he thought would be similar to having shards of glass slicing into his every muscle, a searing burn and dull ache which throbbed and spasmed like electric shocks running up and down his entire body. He detested the movement, for the bodily pain he experienced was unimaginable, but at the same time, he welcomed it, for he knew that the mechanical motion of his body was the best remedy for his ailment, so he resolved to keep pushing forward, regardless of how hard it may have been for him to find the proper motivation to subject himself to such a great level of pain.

Tears stung his eyes as his paws moved again and he cried out when he felt a pop in his spine, causing him to once again arrest his motion. He panted, cursed, then lifted his eyes with a scowl.

"You're on your own now," he reminded, "you have to be tough. You have to become insusceptible to pain."

He felt his blood begin to boil and felt a fire beginning to build inside of him, but he could not explain why. Maybe he still cared about what the pack would think of him running off on his own. With this thought in mind, his scowl deepened.

"Everybody probably doubts you," he mused, "they don't think you can make it on your own. Prove them wrong!"

To the onlooker, he would probably appear to be insane, but for him, this was what he needed to keep himself going. He needed a reason to live, and now he had one. He would prove his worth to the world. He would show all of them what he was really made of. He didn't need her anymore. He didn't need anybody. He was on his own, and on his own, he would survive.

Left paw, right paw, one step at a time, one inch at a time.

One inch lengthened into ten, then became a foot, then three feet, and finally, he was moving freely, though he still carried himself awkwardly, for he had sprained his ankle.

Though he was able to move at a steady walk, he still carried himself with careful deliberation, for he knew that if he were to fall again, he would probably not rise. He kept ever watchful eyes over his paws to ensure that they did not catch on a root or rock or plunge beneath the grass into some imperceivable hole, but at the same time, tried to find a balance between caution and observation, for if danger presented itself to him, he would need to detect it prior to its arrival and act accordingly, which, at this moment, would be to flee.

He also kept his eyes peeled for a place where he could stay, at the bare minimum, for tonight so he could familiarize himself with the new territory in the morning, but such a place seemed to elude him, hidden away in the shadows of the night. Perhaps he should just settle into a soft spot of grass somewhere wait until morning to look. After all, he was completely lost.

It was then that he heard it again, that faint, and hauntingly familiar scream. When he thought about it he could swear that he knew who it was, but was not at the moment entirely convinced that it wasn't all in his head. Call it a hunch, an omen, or subconscious hope that karma had taken its tole on her, but he knew the scream to belong to the one who had destroyed his world. He heard stories about occurrences such as these. He knew of an ancient tribal belief that if somebody dies violently, their spirit is damned to remain on this planet and can be heard as it lives its final mortal moment over and over again until it is granted rest, but what did it matter to him anymore? Why should he care if something bad had happened to her? She brought it upon herself, as usual. Besides, he was through trying to save her, because no matter how many times he was there for her, she either fell short or stabbed him in his back, and he was finished. Never again would he care for her, and never again would he care for any but himself.

As he drew to this conclusion, the scream faded and he smiled in content.

There, now that's better.

He continued to plod his way across the alien territory in which he found himself, remaining cautious of any dangers just in case he was trespassing on a hostile pack's land, but he didn't smell any other wolves, so he at least got the comfort of the possibility that he was alone out here. However, he would not let his guard down, for he found a sense of paranoia in this strange new place that forbade him from growing too comfortable. He didn't know what it was, but there was something about this place that he just was not comfortable with.

Then he realized that his fears were justified.

In the distance, he heard a faint bark, which caught his ear and caused him to turn his head in an easterly direction. How he hoped that wasn't a dog, for dogs more often times than not meant humans, and for his kind, humans meant nothing but trouble.

The bark continued to sound into the night, but was suddenly replaced by a loud ki-yi, then all fell silent again save the chirp of the crickets which sang so rhythmically beneath the stars.

Humphrey paused, listening intently to the atmosphere around him, but when no more strange sounds rose, he continued on his way.

However, after he took about four steps, he stopped and once again regarded the direction from which the bark had sounded, for curiosity had been piqued inside of him. He needed to know for sure if what he feared was fact, that way he could rest easy tonight.

He turned and began to make his way east, trying to navigate in as straight a line as possible, which was not a difficult task, for the wooded area in which he had found consciousness began to thin out into sparse plains.

He continued on, hoping that he wouldn't have to travel too much further and eventually found himself standing at the base of a shallow hill.

He studied it for a moment then began his ascent, though slowly for his injury proved to be quite problematic when certain amounts of pressure were applied at certain angles, and after a climb of about twenty feet or so, he reached its crest and gazed out upon the land beneath him. It was a beautiful and mortifying spectacle, for beneath him, lying about a quarter mile away from the foot of the hill, was a lake which glimmered like a million stars beneath the veil of the night, a most captivating sight which would have awed him were it not for what lied directly on its far bank: a city.

From where he stood, Humphrey could make out the faint outlines of residences, businesses, and parks, all of which were dimly lit by a number of ghostly, yellow lights which lined its streets. The city's streets lay empty on this night, but he dared not go any further to investigate, for he knew that if he were to be spotted by any of its residents, both human and canine, he would likely be killed.

So he resolved to stay away from there at all costs. So long as he stayed on his side of the lake and approached the water only to drink, all would be well, or at least, that was what he hoped.

He turned away and began to make his way down the hill, still trying to find a decent place in which to bed down for the night, but after another twenty minutes of searching, he decided to call it quits.

With a tired and defeated sigh, he scanned through the night for a rock or tree big enough to cover his back, and once he found such a place, he laid his head down on his paws and closed his eyes, waiting for the sun to rise and bring about the dawn of a new day, and of a new life.

A&?

5 Hours Ago

Amina, the pack's healer and mortician, always hated her job, especially when she had to clean up the body of a youth which, up until today, was proud and strong and beautiful, and how it broke her heart to see such life cut down before it even had a chance to begin.

She had worked on many in the past, but never before had she had to deal with a death as gruesome as hers, and if she was anybody else, she would have called for a closed casket funeral, but the love she had for this particular young alpha was far too great to allow her to remain in such a condition.

So the wounds of the deceased were cleaned and those that could be closed were done so by a concoction she had invented that held wounds tightly closed and was practically invisible to the naked eye, a little something she liked to call Liquid Skin. Her fur had been cleansed of the blood, her mouth was fixed so that it was properly closed and her eyes, once a vibrant amber and now a vacant, glassy brown, were lightly closed, granting her eternal rest.

Using a wet rag made of caribou hide, she wiped the blood from Kate's lips, then discarded it and with a sigh she now stared, so sad to see family end in such a tragic manner. Then, after a moment she leaned forward, kissed her on the top of her head for the final time, then pulled a larger hide over her face, thus covering her completely.

Looking for a means of taking her mind off of the recent tragety, she then began to tidy up her den, gathering her supplies and putting them in their proper place, but when her eyes fell upon a set of tiny paw prints, cast in mud upon a slate of rock, she allowed what she carried to fall slowly to the ground and she took it into her paws.

Tears stung her eyes as she gazed upon the prints and the engraving which had been carved beneath them, written in such a way that only a pup could have done, with uneven, backwards letters and spelling errors, but she cherished them deeply and would not change them for the world.

"Wurlds Gratist Grama."

A small smile crept across her face as she read the words, and tears began to snake through the fur on her cheeks.

"Oh Kate," she cried softly, a tear dripping from her chin to the slate.

"Mom?" Eve called quietly from the mouth of the den.

Upon being addressed, Amina slowly lowered the slate and leaned it against the wall in its original place, wiped her eyes, then turned to her daughter.

She stood in the entrance with shaky legs and bloodshot eyes, which she seemed to focus solely upon her, almost as though if she did not look upon the body of her daughter, Kate would still be alive.

"Hello, Eve," Amina greeted, wiping her eyes again, for she wanted to look strong for her daughter.

Eve remained in place for a moment longer, hesitant to press forward, then began to approach her mother, though she did so almost as though her paws were made of lead.

"Is... she ready?" Eve asked slowly, pausing before the mortician.

Amina only nodded, for a lump had begun to form in her throat which refused to allow her to speak.

Eve nodded as well and finally did she turn back to the caribou hide, under which her daughter now lay, but she remained distant, uncertain if she should approach.

Amina sensed such uncertainty and took to her side, but said nothing. She laid a gentle paw upon her daughter's shoulder, causing her to turn, and the two met eyes, and through her eyes, Eve received the courage she needed to approach.

She sniffled, took in a deep breath of collection, then moved toward her.

As she drew near to the hide, she paused and slowly pulled it back to reveal Kate's face.

"I... I cleaned her up as best I could," Amina said softly, her eyes moving between Kate and her daughter, "I couldn't stand to see her..." she paused for the word "buried" refused to pass her lips. "in such a condition."

Tears rolled down Eve's cheeks as she stared down upon Kate, who appeared now to be practically the same as she had before her death.

"She looks beautiful," Eve choked, "thank you."

Amina nodded, wiping her eyes then Eve drew the hide over her daughter's face once more, covering her.

"Where's Winston?" Amina asked her softly, concerned for her son in law and looking to change the subject.

"He insisted that he would carry her to the... service alone," Eve replied, "he's taking it really hard."

Amina nodded her understanding, for she knew what Winston had seen and could only imagine what sort of trauma he was now experiencing because of it.

"When will he arrive?" she asked monotonously.

"As soon as he finishes getting Kate's... resting place exactly how he feels she deserves it to be," she replied, still refusing to speak such selective words to describe the reality of the situation.

Amina nodded again and turned away, for the air in the den was beginning to turn sour and she needed some fresh air to clear her head, but she would not leave Kate's side, nor would she leave the side of her daughter; they needed her now more than they ever did. Silence consumed them, enveloping the entirety of the den's atmosphere, causing it to grow heavy upon their backs, but despite its afflictive presence, the two allowed it to drone, for neither of the two felt much like talking at the moment.

Then finally he arrived, without a single word, moving as a zombie moves, mindless, lost, but oddly aware of his existence and his objective.

Amina and Eve turned to him, watching his every move. He sauntered slowly into the den, his head held low and his eyes on the floor, but did not speak, nor would he speak until first spoken to.

"Winston," Eve addressed, stepping toward him.

He lifted bloodshot eyes to his wife, revealing to all of them the magnitude of his pain, for in his eyes, they could see that his heart and soul were shattered and that he would almost never be able to repair them. He just did not have that kind of will anymore. They could see that he was angry, not only with himself, but at everything that was his to curse, including those that did not deserve it, and, though they did not know it, most of his irrational hatred was now directed at Tony, for he had set it in his mind that if he had not threatened to send the packs to war in the first place, none of this would have happened; Lilly would not have run away, and Kate would still be alive. It was all his fault.

"Is everything ready?" he asked the two females monotonously.

Amina nodded.

"Yes," she replied.

Winston took his turn to nod and directed his eyes toward Kate.

"Now Winston, I don't think it wise for you to carry her alone," Amina advised, "you might-"

"Don't," he interrupted, "I've messed everything else up in her life, I'll not be prevented from my last chance to do something right for her."

She opened up her mouth to offer further protest, but when Eve placed her paw on top of hers, she turned to her daughter, who silently urged her to leave it be, and closed her mouth.

Winston then approached the caribou hide under which his daughter lay and gingerly began to move her stiffening body until she was positioned along his back, where in any other case, she would have been laid upon a half-shelled log which would have been placed across the backs of two wolves.

Once she was balanced, he turned to the only remaining members of his family then turned toward the mouth of the den and began to take his leave.

A&?

The gathering was grim, all faces which stood around the open grave either glum or stained by tears. Standing directly beside it on the left were Winston, Eve, and Amina, the two females in the deceased's family sobbing quietly, but Winston stood firm for his pack, though in his eyes, he still had tears that he could not control. At the head of the grave, standing in the center of the group, was John, the pack's shaman, who, in a voice as smooth as glass, gave his eulogy.

"We are gathered today beneath the cold shadow of death," he voiced slowly, "which has taken from us one of our dearest children, who, once a vibrant and beautiful alpha, now finds eternal rest in the sacred soil of our earth. Here today, with tears and heavy hearts, we send her to the hands of Almighty God. Ladies and gentlemen, let us pray."

John and the others who had gathered closed their eyes and bowed their heads, but Winston only continued to stare at the mound of dirt which now covered the body of Kate.

"Lord we pray that you keep her safe," he prayed, "that you lift her spirit from this world to join with you in your eternal kingdom and provide for her love and everlasting life. Lord we pray that you watch over her family and give them the strength to overcome this terrible tragedy, and we pray for the lives of the pups that will now never be. Lord we pray that you please watch over Lilly, wherever she may have gone. We ask that you keep her safe, and if it be in your will, help her to find prosperity wherever the wind takes her. Lord we pray that-"

Winston's eyes drifted away, for something had disturbed him, and when they fell upon Tony, who approached the congregation slowly, a snarl pierced the air, cutting their shaman off.

"What the hell are you doing here," he demanded passionately to Tony, rising to his paws and stepping forward, "can't you see you've done enough?"

All eyes now focused upon the two, but nobody moved to step between them, for the suddenness of such an outburst left the group in confusion.

Tony was taken back by these words and found himself reeling.

"W-what do you mean?" he asked confused, "I came to-"

"Leave, you have no right to be here after what you've done," Winston growled.

Eve stepped between them and turned to her husband.

"Winston, please, this-"

"No," he seethed, stepping past her, "this is all his fault; he killed our daughter and I'll be damned if I'm gonna let this mother f***er anywhere near her funeral."

Tony was now beginning to grow angry, for he knew that Winston was upset, but he had no right to blame him for her death, and he especially had no right to try and excommunicate him from funeral, especially when he had done nothing wrong.

"I didn't kill her, Winston," Tony said bitterly, though still trying to mind his tongue.

Winston scoffed and stepped toward him.

"You're right, YOU didn't," he replied, "but your actions did, and that is all that matters."

Tony growled under his breath, for he had grown quite tired of the unjust accusations, then took a step of his own toward Winston, now challenging him.

"My actions had nothing to do with any of this," Tony argued, "your miserable attempt at fathering a child is what got her killed."

Winston's lips began to writher back at his molars.

"You had better shut your mouth right now," he threatened, "or I swear to God I will tear you apart."

"Guys, please," Eve cried as she tried to intervene yet again, "stop this."

Winston's scowl only deepened.

"If you hadn't threatened to send us to war in the first place, none of this would have ever happened," he accused, "my daughters would BOTH be sitting safely at home but now they're BOTH gone."

Tony's eyes narrowed further into a bitter scowl.

"But you forget, Winston that it was your idea to have her marry Garth so that we could one day unite the packs," he reminded in a rather condescending tone, "so whose fault is it really? I think we both know."

That did it.

Before anybody could blink, and without any prior warning, Winston lunged at Tony and knocked him to the ground, beginning to tear viciously at his flesh, his every intent to spray his life-giving blood all over the dirt so that his daughter's death would not go unavenged. Tony struggled frantically to free himself from Winston's fury, but was rendered helpless, for the angered father was simply too strong.

The onlookers gasped in horror as Winston attacked the Eastern Alpha, but once the initial shock wore off and they saw that Tony would be killed if no interventions were made, they began to flood to the battle.

"Winston get off of him," Eve cried, trying to pull him away, but Winston's might was simply too powerful and he shoved her away like a fly.

That was when the first Eastern wolf reached them. He leapt upon Winston, rolling him over and off of Tony, but Winston was quick to his paws once more and lunged at his new enemy. The wolf dodged his first attack, but he was too slow to avoid the second and found his foreleg to be clamped in the Western Alpha's powerful jaws.

He cried out in pain then was sent smashing to the ground upon his back, but Winston was not satisfied. He placed his paw upon the Eastern wolf's throat and began to press, slowly choking the life out of him.

Further help then came in the form of Tony, who threw his head into Winston's side, knocking him to the ground.

Chaos then ensued as wolves from each of the two packs leapt into action, at first attempting to break up the brawl, but when tempers began to flare up amongst them, they became encased in the conflict themselves, beginning to rip and tear at the flesh of their adversaries, who were, up until recently, mutual friends, maybe soon to be good friends, but war, however, would disallow such formations of fellowship to exist.

Those who could not bring themselves to fight simply stood to the side, watching as everything they had worked so hard to try and build came crashing down all around them. Among those were Eve, who, normally an advocate of war and violence when it was for the right reasons, could only bring herself to cry, for it seemed to her that no matter how hard they fought to drive evil from the park, it was never far away. It was always hiding in the shadows, smirking, waiting patiently to show its ugly face and cast them once more into bloody conflict.

A yelp rose over the snarls as one wolf was injured, left to bleed on the ground, possibly to die, then another fell, surely dead, for his throat had been torn. Things were getting out of hand rapidly.

Tony realized quickly that he was fighting a losing battle, so he lifted the call for retreat.

"Eastern wolves get out of here!" Tony suddenly yelled to his pack, causing them to turn their heads to him for an instant, "retreat!"

Those who could scrambled to their paws and began to beat a hasty and humiliating retreat to the east, while those who could not either lay dead or helpless upon the ground. Winston and the others who fought ran them all the way to their territory, snarling and nipping at their heels to add insult to their defeat and once their enemies were safely across the creek and hidden amongst the shadows of the trees, they ceased their assault. Winston stood breathlessly for a moment, bleeding from the many abrasions in his legs, chest and face, then turned to those who had followed, and ordered them to move back to the site of the battle so that they may assess the carnage and help those that may need it.

Upon arrival to the site of the battle, Winston realized just what sort of damage had been done, for now was the first time he had truly looked over his pack.

Cail, the largest of their alphas, had lost an eye, but others were not so lucky.

Hutch, who now stood awkwardly upon three paws, for his shin had been shattered, had lost an ear in the conflict and now bled profusely into the grass, moments away from fainting if not attended to promptly by a medical official.

Dakoda, his girlfriend whom he had met in Alpha School, had deep gashes along her stomach which would more than likely take her life if left to bleed as they did, and multiple others suffered injuries that would forever alter their appearance and their lives; others, still, lay on the field where they had fallen, dead or dying.

But Amina tended not to them. Rather she was making her rounds checking the bodies of the two Eastern wolves who had fallen and helping the one she could, but Winston would not allow it. He stepped forward.

"Why are you helping him" he demanded crossly, "we've got wolves who need your help now."

"He needs my help too," she argued, not even turning to acknowledge him, "and if he doesn't get it he'll die."

"So be it," Winston replied indifferently, "the enemy-"

"The enemy?" Amina demanded, turning away from her patient, who groaned and whimpered at her paws, "you attacked THEM, Winston."

"And not without just cause," he replied.

Amina growled under her breath.

"You've always been a giant pup, you know that," she accused under the apprehensive gaze of the pack, "look, I'm sorry Kate is gone, okay, I loved her too, but dammit, Winston, this is not a matter worth starting a war over! Can't you see what you've done? You've torn this entire pack apart because you weren't grown up enough to accept things for what they were."

"Mom, please," Eve begged, pleading with her to not carry it any further.

But to her pleas, she took no heed.

"And I'm certain that I'm not the only one who feels this way either," she informed, "look around, Winston. You're losing the faith of your pack. They're beginning to question your leadership, and pretty soon you will find yourself with nothing to look back upon but a sad and lonely life when death finally comes knocking at your den."

Winston growled bitterly under his breath.

"These things happen, Winston" she continued, "and you have no right to blame anybody but yourself for this. It's all on you. I mean did you ever actually take the time to listen to her, or did every word she said roll in through one ear and out the other? She thought the whole god damned world of you and you ignored her."

These accusations under which Winston now found himself struck a cord deep inside of him which caused the growl which rumbled deep in the base of his throat to rise slightly as his aggravation and denial grew.

"Feeling like a piece of shit by now?" she asked, now too angry to control her tongue, "that's good because you should."

Winston was now beginning to tremble with rage, though he still tried to keep himself composed.

"Don't think that just because you're family I won't have you banished," he warned.

She laughed.

"You think that to be a threat?" she mocked, "I was about to leave anyway."

Upon hearing this, Eve stepped between them.

"Mom no," she implored, "don't talk like that. There's gotta be another way."

Amina, however, would not be swayed.

"No," she replied bitterly, "I've already had to bury one member of my family, I'll not stay here to watch the rest of you die in some pointless war, and if it means my life is forfeit, so be it."

Winston glared silently for a moment.

"So this is your decision then?" he asked her flatly.

She nodded.

"Winston, mom, please don't do this," Eve begged, "we can still-"

"No, we can't," Amina replied boldly, "there's nothing more that can be done. It's all over. We're done."

Silence filled the air around them for a few moments, but Winston broke it when he stepped forward.

"You know the penalty of desertion," Winston reminded.

Tears filled Eve's eyes when her mother nodded.

"Winston please," she begged, "no."

Winston, however, seemed unfazed by his mate's cries.

He raised his paw into the air, preparing to end her life, but at the last moment, he felt his conscience overpower him, so rather than killing her, he simply brought his claws down hard across Amina's eye, slicing three deep gashes into her skin.

Amina's head jerked to the side with the blow and she stumbled back slightly, but after a second, she lifted her head.

"Get out of here," Winston said to her coldly.

Blood poured down Amina's face from her wounds, but she stood firm, nodded, then turned around and began to walk away, but after a few paces she stopped, for she had one final request.

"Allow me to take him with me," she said, referring to the injured Eastern male, whose life was slipping steadily away from his grasp.

"Take him," Winston replied bitterly, turning away from her, "he'll most likely die anyway."

Amina wordlessly moved forward and gingerly slid her body beneath his, then once he was laid across her back, she turned away.

"Winston, please don't do this," Eve cried as her mother began to grow distant, "Winston!"

Winston only walked away without even acknowledging that she had spoken to him, then paused and lifted his head to regard the pack.

"Western wolves, let's go home."

Some moved immediately to his side either out of fear or undying loyalty, but many more hesitated, remaining in place, each for reasons of their own, but the most important of those who remained was Eve.

"So this is how it is going to be?" he asked, turning to her.

"This is how it has to be," she replied, silent tears streaming through the fur on her cheeks.

"So everything we've ever done, all of the tears, the tests, all the blood, it's all been for nothing, huh?" he asked.

Eve nodded.

"It would appear so," she replied, "but this shouldn't come as a great surprise. You should have known that I was going to leave you anyway."

Eve had in fact been lying when she said this, for had this incident been averted, she would have been able to forgive him for what he had done, but after everything that had happened, she just couldn't find it in her heart to stay by his side any longer, despite how much she still loved him.

Winston was visibly hurt by her words, but his pride disallowed him to change his mind.

"You have one of two options," he said to them after a short span of silence, "you can stay and work as staff until the war is over or you can leave, but if you leave do not come back. Any attempts to return will be met with deadly force. You have a day to decide or I shall decide for you."

With this statement made, he turned to the meager numbers which remained under his command.

"The rest of you return to your dens. We have at least a day before the East mounts a counter offensive. We have that long to prepare and not a moment to lose."

The seven loyalists rose and followed him back to the den area, leaving Eve, Amina, and the others alone to make their decision, but such a decision would have to wait for the time being as they had more pressing matters to attend to.

"Fetch me my kit," Amina ordered one of the wolves who stood beside her as she gently slid the wolf off of her back, "hurry, he can't hold on much longer."

By this time the red furred wolf was trembling noticeably, for his body had run cold despite the tepid temperature of the evening, and would soon go into shock. If that were to happen, his body would shut down and there would be nothing Amina could do about it. Their medical research had yet to acquire such knowledge.

Some who watched him suffer sniffled as silent tears trickled through the fur on their cheeks, but they dared not move him or attempt to help because they knew that Amina was the only one who could; if he were to be tampered with by one who was not a professional, he would surely die.

His breath began to become choked and he began to thrash violently about upon the ground.

"He's seizing," Amina cried, placing her paws on his shoulders to hold him down, "get a stick, now!"

Though it seemed a strange request, the wolves scoured the ground frantically for a stick, and when they located one, they handed it quickly over to her.

Amina took the stick into her paw and slid it into the male's mouth, producing his tongue, for if left inside of his mouth, he would choke on it.

"Hold this," Amina ordered the wolf who stood closest to her, "and for God sake do not put your paw into his mouth."

The wolf, though disgusted, took his tongue into her paw and held it while Amina worked to secure him.

Then finally the runner returned with the kit.

Amina took not even the time to thank him before she went to work.

She scrambled through her many medicines until she found a sedative and quickly dipped her claws into it then punctured a vein in his arm to administer it into his blood.

Though it was not enough to put him to sleep, it settled his body to where Amina could work her magic without having to restrain him.

Working as quickly as she could, she produced a pawful of sweet berries and forced him to swallow them, for the wolf had lost an unimaginable amount of blood and the sugars and glucose would help to keep him conscious for now. Once this was done, she began to tend to his wounds, taking not the time to clean them, for there would be time for that later. With steady paws, she began to apply her Liquid Skin to the wolf's wounds, sealing them and effectively stopping his bleeding, but they were not out of the woods yet. Now they needed to be sure that he stayed conscious.

"Talk to me," Amina told him, trying to keep him awake, "what is your name?"

"R-flafdr," he replied weakly and unintelligibly.

"What is your name?" she asked again.

"R-ghc-Richard."

"Do you have any family, Richard?" she asked.

"N... no," he answered.

"Oh that's too bad," she replied, "I've lost most of mine, too."

He panted heavily.

"What's your favorite season?" Amina asked

He made no reply.

Amina gently shook him.

"Come on now, you've gotta stay with me," she said to him, "keep talking, Richard, what is your favorite season?"

"Fall."

"I love fall," Amina mused, "the leaves turn such beautiful colors. What color is your favorite?"

"Orange," he coughed.

"Mine too," she said, taking his paw into hers, "have you got a girlfriend?"

"Y-yes," he answered.

"What is her name?"

"Ch-Charlene."

Amina smiled.

"What is she like."

With trembling lips, the wolf smiled.

"She's a bitch," he joked, then coughed, "but I love her."

"She sounds great," Amina said to him, "I would love to meet her."

He smiled softly and his eyes closed.

"Am I gonna die," he asked her weakly, his body trembling.

She brushed his paw with her own.

"I won't let that happen," she assured, though she was still uncertain, for he had lost a lot of blood, "we'll get you all cleaned up and you'll see Charlene again in no time."

He coughed, tears stinging his eyes, for he knew she was lying.

"I'd like that," he smiled.

"You just hang on," she said to him, "we'll get you some water."

Upon hearing the word, Eve moved away, heading toward the river to get him something to drink.

"What-what's your name?" he asked her softly.

"Amina," she replied.

"Thank you, Amina," he said to her gratefully, "for everything."

"Just doing my job," she said to him, "no thanks are necessary."

He nodded, smiling still, then tilted his head back.

"It's beautiful," he mused softly.

"What is?" Amina asked him.

"Paradise, " he replied, "I can see it."

"Richard-" Amina pleaded, for she did not want him to die, but he interrupted.

"Don't," he choked, "it's okay. She's calling to me."

"But-"

"Let me go," he said to her, "let me be with Her."

Amina sniffled and held his paw tightly.

"It's alright," Richard assured, "it's al-"

His body tensed for a moment then his paw fell limp in hers as his life faded.

Amina sniffled, still holding his paw, then Eve returned with the water.

"I got the-" she cut himself off upon seeing him, "is... is he-"

Amina sniffled again and slowly laid his paw down onto his chest, then pulled hers away.

Those gathered hung their heads in distain, then one by one they lifted their heads to the sky above, howling their sorrow in one sad voice which carried Richard into the waiting arms of the angels.

Their howls slowly faded into the evening air and silence consumed the atmosphere yet again.

For a matter of about three minutes, time seemed at a stand still. Nobody moved and they hardly breathed. All they could do was stand and stare at Richard's body, as it drove home the reality of the gruesome war which would surely follow, reminding them all why they had to leave.