Stray Warriors
That night a moon was supposed to light the land below. But dark clouds black as shadows shrouded the sky, blocking the ghostly light from the moon. All the stars that were supposed to be visible only one shown through the clouds. A piercing red star gazed down like an eye. Only a handful of animals dared to come out. Most of them hid, they didn't like sudden changes in the weather and there was something else. An old legend told the darkest days the world has ever seen will occur when a red star appeared in the sky overcoming the clouds that even the moon couldn't.
In a forest below an owl landed silently on a barren tree branch. He didn't believe in myths anymore, he had grown out of them ever since he left his parents' nest. A cold breeze blew through the woods, the owl shivered and puffed up his feathers trying to keep warm. He had been hunting all night without any success: all of his prey had cowered in their burrows, fearing the red star night. He was about to go back to his tree, hungry and hope for a better hunting night tomorrow but just as he lifted his wings a soft whimper, barely audible sounded from the forest floor. The owl froze, his sharp hearing picked up the noise that some animals would have missed. He turned his head trying to find the source. His amber eyes narrowed as he saw a black lump partially covered by the blood stained snow that covered the ground like a white blanket.
The owl would have felt pity but he was a predator and pity was meaningless. Some animals are not strong enough to survive and no predator could have pity for them if they wanted to live another day.
The silent killer took off toward the weakling. As he drew closer, his talons stretched out ready for the kill. There was a faint growl. The black creature shot upward white fangs bared into a snarl. Red eyes blazing dangerously like an untouchable fire. The owl screeched and fled leaving feathers in his wake. The owl didn't look back at the wolf pup with the crimson eyes like the lone star in the sky. The black furred wolf fell back into the snow all adrenaline vanished. He could feel his blood seep out of his battered body but he couldn't remember where the wounds came from. The young wolf wanted to just rest their but he knew it was too dangerous staying out in the open. If another predator attacked he wouldn't have the strength to fight them off. He slowly painfully got to his paws. More blood dripped onto the snow. The wolf ignored the pain that flared through his body and staggered away and melted into one with the shadows.