01-09-2018, 11:02 AM
[align=center][div style="background:transparent; width: 450px; min-height: 100px; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 100%; text-align: justify; color: #3D3E53; font-family: verdana"]it'd been two weeks, but those two weeks felt like an eternity. two weeks since he'd last seen rosebreath, three weeks since he'd felt the warmth of his father's pelt brushing against his own or heard the gentle laugh of zephyros. it'd been a month since his brother had left, runestone had sobbed while the older wolf walked away, pelt bristling and teeth bared, never once looking back. the bonds holding the pack together, already unstable after the fight between deimos and hyacinth, had snapped completely when the radiation hit, and they'd scattered without so much as a word. in his heart, runestone prayed to whatever gods were still out there that they were safe, and that they were searching for him just as frantically as he'd been searching for them, despite all signs pointing towards the opposite. it was a feeble hope, but one he refused to let go of; after all, hope was all that the werewolf had left. he was alone in a vast and unfamiliar terrain, with no one to turn to and nowhere else to run.
for the past fortnight he'd been searching relentlessly for his pack, returning to the makeshift camp every time with grazed paws and increasingly diminished hopes. they weren't out there, deep down runestone knew that, but the wolf couldn't stop looking, he had to find them, had to believe that they were out there somewhere. it was a cold evening, and the wolf was returning to camp with his head hung for the eighth night in a row. he couldn't keep this up, sooner or later he'd have to give in and admit that they weren't out there, but until he'd scoured every inch of the mountain range, he couldn't stop. they couldn't just be gone. a flash of sandy brown fur caught his eye as he walked across the clearing, and for the slightest moment he thought it could be rosebreath, until the distinct shape of a sandy brown lynx moved into his line of sight, crushing any hopes he might've had.
with a tired sigh the wolf slumped down atop a patch of boulders, raising a bleeding paw to his mouth and running his tongue over it with even, practiced strokes. the light of the setting sun caught in his mottled fur, turning the greys and beiges to a rich orange before the moon's light took hold. despite his exhaustion, sleep continued to evade him as the stars spread across the sky and the mountain around him turned silver in the cool light.
for the past fortnight he'd been searching relentlessly for his pack, returning to the makeshift camp every time with grazed paws and increasingly diminished hopes. they weren't out there, deep down runestone knew that, but the wolf couldn't stop looking, he had to find them, had to believe that they were out there somewhere. it was a cold evening, and the wolf was returning to camp with his head hung for the eighth night in a row. he couldn't keep this up, sooner or later he'd have to give in and admit that they weren't out there, but until he'd scoured every inch of the mountain range, he couldn't stop. they couldn't just be gone. a flash of sandy brown fur caught his eye as he walked across the clearing, and for the slightest moment he thought it could be rosebreath, until the distinct shape of a sandy brown lynx moved into his line of sight, crushing any hopes he might've had.
with a tired sigh the wolf slumped down atop a patch of boulders, raising a bleeding paw to his mouth and running his tongue over it with even, practiced strokes. the light of the setting sun caught in his mottled fur, turning the greys and beiges to a rich orange before the moon's light took hold. despite his exhaustion, sleep continued to evade him as the stars spread across the sky and the mountain around him turned silver in the cool light.
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