Last Song [closed]

[jay]

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[atrb=background,http://i39.tinypic.com/ejxyqt.png] This was the last straw. He simply was not cut out for this. Jay sighed, feeling the cool winds run through the fur of his back as he stood looking over the cliffs. He was not a brave, strong individual like he had let on to Toiro back there. There was nothing confident about him. He was simply a scared brute who had been dragged into the position of beta by a crush that was going nowhere. Sapphire had saved him, and yet Sapphire was going to be the death of him. The brute could not justify going on without the femme. She had quickly become his everything, and he had nothing left without her. Alearia was his friend, but even she could see how distraught he had become without his alphess. He would have done anything for her, but he could not do anything without her. He was a useless sack of bones that was good for nothing. Dihren and Vixen would be better off without him because he simply was not alpha material. The brute growled, suddenly feeling the urge to yell out across the sea. "Why does this keep happening to me? WHY?!" he screamed, his words turning into a devastated howl. The pain and anguish was thick in his voice as the howl echoed out across the rocks, singing a story of betrayal, abandonment, and loss. He did not have much left in his life. The brute was worthless, a shell of what he used to be. Aldgar had built the pup up just to destroy him again. Kadhi had torn at the young wolf time and time again, leaving shreds of what he used to be in his wake. And then Sapphire had patched him back up. He had been miraculously put back together just to be ripped apart once more. Fate was a cruel, cruel thing that only managed to beat him down. What was left for him to live for?

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[Wildlife [NPC]]

Winter was fast approaching and the herd was on the move. Sure fall had only just begun to set in. The northern territories always got coldest first though, and if the caribou wanted to survie they would need to start the migration south. Food would be more plentiful there. The lower territories were more open, plains like. Sure it made the chances of attack greater, but those of them that could survive the winter would once again return to the safety of their homeland.

As it was, the herd had stopped briefly to graze. High atop Zozyr's Glory they munched on what remained of lush grasses and vegetation, filling their bellies in preparation for the long journey south. The lead bull, Hans, stood highest on the cliffside, watching protectively over his herd. His ears were alert for the sounds of danger, eyes constantly scanning for danger. Twice he'd had to keep yearlings from wandering too close to the edge and a fight broke out over one of the greener patches of grass. When things had settled though, and he felt it safe to crane his own neck downwards, Hans let himself enjoy the meal. Never for long, but some food was better than no food at all.

And then a howl cut through the air. Tone was not important, nor was the message held within its song. Hans jerked his head up, grasses falling from his mouth as he startled at the sound. Tail rising in distress, he started to run, circling the herd and rounding them up. They had to get to safety! "Wolf! Wooooooolf!" he bellowed loudly, spurring the herd of a hundred or so onward. These lands weren't safe anymore. The predators were here! The caribou began to stampede.

In the frenzied panic, Hans could not ensure the safety of everyone. Some ventured too close to the edge of the cliffs, tumbling to their deaths. Others took to winding paths, trying to caves of shelter. Mightily he tried to keep his herd, his family, safe and together. He tried to direct them southwards, away from the threat of danger. He called out, desperate for the ones he was losing. But alas, it was in vain. His family members were tumbling to their deaths.

And, as a few of them took to a lower path, they ran into the wolf. No longer was young Jay the dangerous one here. Herd mentality had taken over. The caribou were running with no rhyme or reason, simply trying to escape. Five of them had ended up on the overhang and they would not stop until they either reached death or safety. Ramming full force into the side of the wolf, trampling him as if he weren't even there, three caribou continued on to meet a later fate. Two, however, had become tangle up in the young wolf's body. One tripped, footing lost, and together the three of them tumbled over the cliffside. With a splash they landed in the ocean below, dead by drowning if not the painful fall.

Death had befallen the Isata alpha.