Rudder stood there stumped, They're... dead? The familiar smell of his pack was evident in the air with a heavy mixture of blood. But... I... I should've been there. I could have saved them! The world around him turned silent, as if his ears turned off to it. He stared blankly at the ground as thoughts of regret crept into his mind. If only I was there. I could have helped. They wouldn't be dead!
The cub's eyes watched as a small rock, displaced from Kaaili's paw, rolled down the scree. Without any real thought, he continued to observe the small rock until it collided against a huge boulder, one that was probably three times his size. He remained transfixed on the boulder for a time, his thoughts turning from regret to realization. I could have... could have... All his dreams, all his imaginary adventures, faded into nothing but black and white images to the smell of blood surrounding him, so potent that he could smell the color of it.
He was kicked in the stomach by the cruel force that is reality; he was only a pup, nothing more. He wasn't a super strong wolf, he wasn't destined for greatness by some wise-owl's words; he was an ordinary pup. The words of his father crept into his mind, "Don't day-dream too much, you will get disappointed eventually." What hurt the most was that he will never, ever hear him say that again. He'll never get to play with his siblings, lay beside mother or show off his skills to his father. That pain sunk deep into him.
He took one final look up the scree at the mountain that he once called home. He had always imagined to leave it for an adventure... but not like this. The young cub then followed closely behind the others; his walk somber, his poster defeated and his spirit broken.
The cub's eyes watched as a small rock, displaced from Kaaili's paw, rolled down the scree. Without any real thought, he continued to observe the small rock until it collided against a huge boulder, one that was probably three times his size. He remained transfixed on the boulder for a time, his thoughts turning from regret to realization. I could have... could have... All his dreams, all his imaginary adventures, faded into nothing but black and white images to the smell of blood surrounding him, so potent that he could smell the color of it.
He was kicked in the stomach by the cruel force that is reality; he was only a pup, nothing more. He wasn't a super strong wolf, he wasn't destined for greatness by some wise-owl's words; he was an ordinary pup. The words of his father crept into his mind, "Don't day-dream too much, you will get disappointed eventually." What hurt the most was that he will never, ever hear him say that again. He'll never get to play with his siblings, lay beside mother or show off his skills to his father. That pain sunk deep into him.
He took one final look up the scree at the mountain that he once called home. He had always imagined to leave it for an adventure... but not like this. The young cub then followed closely behind the others; his walk somber, his poster defeated and his spirit broken.