The Heart of The Storm Part II
-Watching the Fox's Den: A Few Minutes Earlier… -
It had been nothing short of Ancestral providence that the two wolves had arrived at the same time that their target had chosen to exit it's den. Clearly the Ancestors thought it just as necessary for Marcus to take control of the pack as he did.
But even the Ancestor's couldn't account for the sheer amount of incompetence from his younger brother.
Marcus bit his tongue hard enough to not only prevent himself from growling when Antony had stepped on that branch, but even to the point that he could taste the iron flavor of his own blood.
Both of the wolves had frozen in place after the loud crunch of the crushed stick filled the air.
The moment had felt like a lifetime, both wolves were crouching on all fours and perfectly still behind the brush that concealed them. Marcus' hackles were raised, and his shoulders were tense… if the fox went back into the hole, he would hold Antony personally accountable, and as the leader he would punish the small wolf however he saw fit… Namely, severely.
Judging by the fearful, cautious expression that exuded from the little wolf's features, the runt understood that fact just as well as he understood how vindictive Marcus could be to those who got in his way…
Luckily for the scrawny, white juvenile, the redtail looked to be choosing to brave the sound and venture out of its hole, although it seemed to do so much more reluctantly.
Marcus contemplated how he would have proceeded if the fox hadn't discredited that loud, idiotic blunder… Perhaps he would have forced the little runt to dig the fox's den up by himself as punishment while he bellowed orders and heaped abuse on the inferior canine, the idea held a strong appeal to the older brother… More likely however, Marcus wouldn't have had that amount of patience, and would teach his inept sibling a lesson in humiliation with his own bare paws.
Marcus shook the hypothetical scenarios from his mind, the fox was indeed departing from its home, and that was what he needed to focus on right now.
The grey wolf internally sighed, although the tired relief didn't carry over to his outer features. He was thankful this stroke of providence didn't go to waste due to the runt's error. Even talented, experienced hunters like himself knew that the slightest of advantages or disadvantages could make the difference in a hunt's success. It wouldn't have boded well for the little wolf to once again prove how damaging he was to the pack's overall ability.
Marcus' teeth ran over the fresh spot he had bitten in his tongue. The iron flavor produced was doing wonders for soothing the grey wolf's fury at his brother, serving as both a small foretaste of the mammals in front of him as well as the political victory that would be achieved when his plan was proven superior.
Honestly, the grey wolf looked forward to dethroning the compromised, soft Julius more than the taste of the kills he would soon have. (Although, he still very much valued his successful hunts since they had their own little way of demonstrating his value, strength, and superiority in the pack.)
Both wolves were on all fours behind the layers of brush concealing them. Silently they watched, crouched in their feral ambush positions, observing the fox crawling out of its den.
Antony had finally turned his focus towards the fox as well, mimicking the observant look that his brother had. Although, he still kept a part of his attention on the burly, grey wolf next to him while wisely keeping a short space between them.
Their ears instinctively perked up at the sound of the slight crunch of snow when the fox cautiously crawled out of its den.
A slight smirk could be found on the older brother as it became clear that the fox would be taking a trek out of its hole. Although, his smirk lessened ever so slightly when the fox looked like it would be taking a perpendicular route from where they were positioned.
If the redtail had chosen to trek towards them he would have had the luxury of pouncing from right where they were positioned, and if it had chosen to go the opposite direction, he could ensure that the fox wouldn't attempt to retreat back to its hole. (What prey would run directly to its charging predator?) Both would have sealed the redtail's fate.
Marcus gave another internal sigh at the fox's chosen direction, supposing the Ancestors wouldn't want to just give him the victory. Still, that sigh gave way once again to a wicked, confident grin. He was a skilled hunter afterall, and it wouldn't be the most challenging task for someone of his caliber to cut off the prey from the safety of its home, even from this distance.
His grin widened as he mentally reminisced about his last hunt. Cutting off this fox wouldn't prove to be any more difficult than when his father had tasked him with routing the longears from their warrens not too many days before.
He had been proud of that accomplishment.
For so long Marcus had been positioned as a front line digger in the pack, (one that sieged and dug the prey from their encampments,) it had been nice for his father to have finally recognized that his talents extended much further than that.. Routing the longears from their warren had been another great display of his superiority in the pack, and as if the Ancestors were highlighting just how successful of a warrior Marcus was, Sapper had failed miserably in the same front line position that he had so faithfully carried out since he was a juvenile.
But Marcus' moment of anticipatory and reminiscent glee was soon replaced by confusion.
"Is that a longears following the redtail?" Antony asked in clear astonishment while daring to inch a little closer to whisper his question to Marcus.
The grey wolf pointedly shoved his little brother's muzzle away when he felt the breath of the scrawny wolf against his fur. But once that slight annoyance was taken care of, Marcus' vision narrowed in on the peculiarity that Antony had pointed out.
He frowned. To the grey wolf's surprise, the whelp wasn't mistaken. He mentally cursed for allowing his excitement to let his inferior wolf notice something before he did.
That wouldn't be something he would allow to happen again.
Marcus narrowed his eyes at the grey patch of fur covered in frayed linen scrap. Indeed, a very small bunny was exiting behind the fox.
Ancestors, what the Hell is that longears doing-
Marcus' eyes widened in shock before he quickly stifled his surprise. He watched as the little bunny jumped up at the fox's paw and quickly snagged it with it's own. Frantically, the little longears tried to drag the redtail to the nearest of trees and brush.
For a second, the grey wolf lost his hardened composure when the redtail indulged the diminutive prey and followed it along.
Marcus couldn't stop his eyebrows from furrowing at the scene playing out in front of him, and for a moment his plan of attack was forgotten; derailed by the strange scene he was witnessing.
With confusion so clearly muddying his plans, Marcus began to absorb every minute detail he could of the scene to attempt to regain his grasp of what was happening.
He gave a critical eye first to the clothing of the fox. The creature wore a well-stitched, linen-based, grey covering.
Materials not out of place from the trades. The grey wolf noted, a frown now tugging on his muzzle.
It was a fact that annoyed him, knowing that Brute had surmised as much, and had used said fact to back up his father's 'no-attack' order… (Not that it would stop Marcus' plan to grab power. As knowledgeable as Brute was, the black wolf had a bad habit of underestimating Marcus' abilities, a fact that he didn't overlook.)
His hardened stare settled back on the little bunny yanking the fox towards the tree. Marcus knew he had scented bunnies along with the fox's trail, but he had figured that they would have been… well, digested by now… especially considering the amount of blood back where the pack had stayed to investigate.
It was a strange occurrence that prevented him from putting two and two together, and with the wind blowing firmly at his back he knew he wouldn't be able to confirm if this had been a scent from the trail or not. Unable to confirm that only increased Marcus' many questions he had yet to have answered:
Why are there rabbits still alive?
What is the fox letting it pull him around?
Is this one of the rabbits that he had scented on the trail?
How many rabbits are with this fox?
Are they related to the same warrens that they had destroyed?
If this rabbit is alive then was the desecrator still alive too and was it here?
For a second, the wolf's mind told him that the investigation that his father had chosen to do looked like it had a lot more merit than he originally thought.
It was an idea that soured his mood further, and one that he discarded quickly. He wasn't about to entertain the motion that the Alpha may have been right.
Marcus internally sighed again. These were answers he wouldn't find by staring at his targets…
but even so that's what he continued to do.
It was simply too strange of a scene and one that kept both Marcus and his brother captivated. There was something about these two mammals that kept the grey wolf from concentrating on his ambush.
Silent bafflement reigned supreme as the diminutive longears and the redtail stopped at the nearest of trees to their den. It was obvious now why they had come out, the little one clearly needing to relieve itself…
Attacking now would be the most efficient time, this was the most compromising moment that a prey could be in. But even so… The elder wolf found himself captivated by the mannerisms of the two mammals in front of him.
Curiosity tugged at the grey wolf's mind, as he found a familiarity to their behaviors. He had never seen these mammals in his life, yet he felt like he had witnessed their actions play out all too often.
His ears fluttered as they strained to listen to the two very different mammals talk to each other. He caught little moments of friendly chatter before the fox had turned away allowing the little bunny some privacy while it did its business.
Again, Marcus' eyebrows furrowed. He couldn't comprehend why this fox had kept this bunny around and why it currently seemed to be allowing it so much privacy and freedom.
Why is it not watching its prey, doesn't it know it could run?
The sight was both the most otherworldly incident he had ever seen… and yet again, it felt all too familiar to him.
It was an irritating feeling to the wolf, something about these two mammals stirred a confusing, angry feeling within him. A chip on his shoulder.
He studied the actions of the redtail intently before considering how it had behaved towards the bunny as it had left its den.
The red canine had been friendly to the bunny, it had worn a cautious wary expression that didn't seem to be for its own safety but for the small rabbit, and it had indulged the tiny creature as it pulled at the redtail to follow it to the trees.
It all seemed so… so…
Sentimental.
Marcus frowned as he realized he had indeed seen this scene before. It wasn't a conclusion that Marcus would come up with if he hadn't experienced it himself so long ago when Julius had been a much different wolf…
back before word of what happened to the Wolford clan…
What Marcus had come to realize about this fox and rabbit was that this wasn't an interaction between predator and prey.
Their behaviors were nothing of that sort. What he had witnessed was sentiment. This fox and rabbit's relationship was far more friendly… even familial…
This fox and bunny were… well, he didn't know what to call it exactly, but it did enough to anger the grey wolf.
That anger only steepened as an old memory tugged at Marcus' mind.
For just a moment the grey wolf didn't see a rabbit and fox in front of him, but something far different. A little grey pup chasing after a much larger grey wolf's tail. A little pup that was chatting happily with the scarred older wolf while trying to snatch the bigger mammal's fluffy appendage. Marcus remembered how the little grey pup always liked to try to hold onto the older wolf's tail so he could be dragged behind wherever the bigger wolf went.
Marcus shook his head in frustration to remove the unsavory memory from his mind.
That had been an age he was glad was over. An age that Julius had thankfully wised up to, shortly after word of what happened to the Wolford clan had reached them and later when that damned sentimental Wolford came crawling to the pack for help.
But that unwanted memory, as much as Marcus wished it had stayed locked up, explained exactly why the fox and bunny were so familiar and friendly with each other…
The redtail has made it its… its- Marcus didn't dare call the little food source the fox's son, he wouldn't even allow himself to entertain that thought… but he imagined that the redtail might be willing to think of it as such.
Still, at this revelation, the grey wolf had an idea of the foolishness that had come over the fox. An understanding that the little predator had succumbed to an idiocy that the foolish redtail's parents should have had rooted out of it as a pup. Just like Julius had done for him and for the pack…
Most of the pack.
An incensed fire smoldered in the grey wolf's eyes.
Sentimental redtail… Were you so weak that you had to stoop to a tiny longear's level?
Marcus understood now that the fox had taken pity on a bunny, one of the lowliest of prey.
It was easy to see that the redtail's weakness had caused it to break the natural order of things. Marcus could see that its sentiment had taken control of the fox to such a degree that it was to the point of upsetting the structured order of things that the Ancestral mammals had worked so hard to sustain. This fox was allowing its emotions to rule its life to where it had found value in the weakest of creatures…
A dangerous trap for you to fall into, foolish redtail.
Indeed, to Marcus it was the most dangerous of traps for predators. He recalled how this was the same idealistic rot that led to the inevitable infighting among their own kind. The same rot that had the capability to destroy clans and packs and tribes of predators when this idea became to pervasive
Marcus was witnessing everything he was warned against for so long,
Sentiment…
No, not just sentiment. This was sentiment brought to its logical extreme. Sentiment that had been left to fester and grow and bloom into its most potent of forms…
Empathy.
The word caused a disapproving frown to cross Marcus' lips. It was taboo to even voice such a word in the pack… And here he was, witnessing it.
To see it happening emphasized the dangers that it presented… Ultimately, this was why sentiment was rooted out of wolves, to see others as the same as them would spell disaster for their way of life, their culture… and quite possibly their species. Bleeding heart predators like this fox only sowed division and caused others to think of prey as something other than their food source. Marcus recognized that it was this sentimental falsehood that would leave their kind divided, powerless, and practically in famine.
These facts were set in stone by the Ancestors, and proven in his own lifetime by the fate of another clan's folly, one that he had seen the effects of first hand when Wolford had come crawling to their pack.
There was only one conclusion for Marcus as he stared daggers at the fox.
The world must be rid of predators like you.
If the pack was to remain safe, it would need to be protected from creatures like this fox and rabbit. It appeared that his plan to subvert his father's authority only felt more vindicated as he observed two mammals.
But as Marcus watched the vulpine standing protectively near the bunny, Marcus' mind conjured a new scene.
Images of a grey wolf just a little larger than himself standing protectively over a much smaller, pup. But this time the pup wasn't a shade of grey like his own fur, but a bright shade of white. The small pup was clearly a runt, yet without a care in the world it crawled around in the pawprints of the larger wolf nearby. The pup looked to be carefree in its endeavors to mimic the pawprints of the larger grey wolf nearby. It was happily playing about while the scarred, larger canine hung nearby, silently guarding the far weaker canine… with the slightest of smiles on its muzzle.
Marcus' lip stiffened at the conjured image superimposing over the bunny and fox.
How could it be? How could it be that these two unknown lesser mammals could cast a light on his own pack, how was it that when Marcus was looking at this fox and bunny that he saw Julius and Antony?
Unsettled by this new insight, Marcus grasped for answers as he watched his targets.
His eyes rested back on the small bunny. It was unbelievably tiny, undoubtedly weak and undeniably unable to fend for itself, yet it had a lax, naive and carefree nature that hung over it.
Everything that he could glean from its features only increased his disdain for the little mammal.
His eyes turned back to the red fox. It stood protectively near the weak, defenseless rabbit. Focused, intent, and ready to take on anything that came out from the woods around it. It was especially on guard, but not for itself… but for the little longears, clearly ready to snatch the rabbit up and do what it could for the little creature's safety at the first sign of danger.
The scene made Marcus' stomach turn uncomfortably, before the answer came to his mind.
It… He… He-
He took a deep breath and bit down on his tongue again, allowing the blood from the fleshy mass to calm his nerves and stop his growling rage.
He loves it. He loves that insignificant waste of a creature.
The question was… who was Marcus referring to?
His claws dug into the snow as his paws clenched themselves.
It was all a bad joke, a twisted mirror image.
The whole scene had played out and he had been able to do nothing but watch in complete captivation…
He had been so enraptured in the two mammals and now it was clear why…
When Marcus watched this bunny and fox, he wasn't simply observing the sentimental interactions of this peculiar duo
...but indeed, he was watching a parallel reflection of his own family.
His brother was weak, as useless as that tiny longears, yet his father had always stood protectively over him, always indulged the little wolf… always loved him.
When Marcus was a pup that had been true for him too… but that had ended for him when the tragedy of the Wolford clan had shown up at their doorstep. The Alpha knew that he had to harden his own heart and harden the hearts of all the pack… there wasn't room for such sentiment and love if they wanted to maintain their way of life, if they wanted to survive.
But something had changed in the Alpha after Antony came along; the little obedient wolf's starry eyed outlook had softened his father ever so much to how he had been before the incident that had destroyed the Wolford clan.
That little wolf had brought back a piece of that dangerous sentiment into the Alpha.
And that's what this fox was, what it represented.
Just like his father, it was that soft, emotionally compromised protector- a byword of predators that allowed the weak to endanger the whole of the group. It was what the Ancestors warned about, that when the weak are not relegated, or are overindulged, they would beget their weakness to others.
And where sentiment and weakness reigned, so too did the destruction that followed it.
It was a scene that played out over and over again. What had killed the Wolford clan was such empathetic behavior that had led to their division and ultimate destruction.
And that same sentiment was currently infiltrating their own pack. Sapper hadn't been able to keep his emotions in check for Wolford even with knowing what happened to their clan, and now Julius was indulging that same weakness with Antony, ironically giving in to that same sentiment that he had condemned the Omega for.
Empathy, sentiment, heart: the very ideals that brought forth weakness, and weakness that brought forth death and destruction to predators.
The absurdity of this whole scene struck Marcus like a charging moose. The gravity of just how close his pack had ventured to its destruction fell onto the grey wolf and caused his anger to rush into him as a wave rushed up the shore. A rising and continual fury quickly engulfed his mind: an anger that wouldn't be satiated with the iron flavor of his own blood but so desperately needed the blood of those that threatened his pack.
But even as he observed the fox and rabbit, he found himself unable to move from his position. Their very existence were threats, but they were not the ones that he currently warred against in his mind.
How? How can you disregard the dangers, father?! Everything you taught me to make me strong, everything you took away from me so we wouldn't collapse like the Wolford clan did! Why are you throwing it away now?
He had been clashing with his father for so long now, and at the epiphany forced upon him by this damn redtail, Marcus finally understood why he so strongly needed to take over from his father, why his disdain for the Alpha and Antony had grown so much…
He was the one who had to make things right.
You were so strong before, dad!
The term of endearment slipped out, he never called his father by that anymore, nor would he let that Freudian slip happen again.
But you've changed, father. You've allowed yourself to grow weak.
Antony's eyes focused again on the little rabbit that the fox stood near to.
Naive, carefree, weak, sentimental.
He's not special, father. You shouldn't have allowed yourself to be compromised… He's never been worth your time, your lo-
Marcus didn't dare finish that word…
But he didn't have to, the damage was done and the wolf's mind was made up.
The unnatural scene of the rabbit and fox had crystallized the destructive element that his father looked to be reembracing.
To Marcus, it was clear now: he was in the right, he would kill this fox and rabbit, but even more so he would kill what they represented, utterly obliterate it.
He tensed his body, ready to jump out and make his dash to route the fox, his eyes hardened in preparation as he stared angrily at the fox and rabbit, ready to-
Marcus' ears flicked at the sound of stifled chuckling coming from his side.
And in a singular second everything that the grey wolf had concluded, every bit of ire and hatred and readiness to attack the fox turned towards a new target.
Marcus' body hadn't lost an ounce of its built up fury or its taut power as he turned his gaze to Antony.
The scrawny weakling had an easygoing, jovial smile on his muzzle and a naive, contented look in his eyes.
It was a sight offensive enough for Marcus to desire to wrap his paws around the smaller canine's throat and choke the life out of him.
How did this little wolf have so much power over him as to take all of his attention from his targets?.. It honestly wasn't a question that was all that necessary thanks to his recent realizations about his family, but it was strikingly remarkable how the smallest of actions done by the small wolf could so thoroughly redirect Marcus' fury onto Antony… the grey wolf looked to be giving in to his anger, expediency of solving his most infuriating problem, namely his sentimental brother, over his current mission looked to be taking precedent.
"Why are you laughing, runt?" Marcus' question was much closer to an accusation, and did little to hide the anger that matched the hardness in his eyes.
Antony straightened up but he didn't take his eyes off the fox and rabbit. He willed himself to hide as much of his emotions in his voice as possible, but there was no covering the smile on his muzzle.
"I just kind of think they're cute, don't you? The little bunny leading the fox around almost like how dad would sometimes-"
It had been the worst possible choice of words for the little wolf to have chosen. Antony's voice tapered as he turned and caught the glare that pierced into his very soul… If looks could kill, Antony would assume that he would have withered away at that very moment.
He wasn't a stranger to Marcus' anger or the hardness that resided within his brother's eyes, he had been made to feel like less than nothing by it before, nor was it a rare occurrence for him to hide away from the camp and reduce himself to a sniveling wreck because of his brother's hurtfulness.
This wasn't that.
As Antony turned his attention to Marcus, the little wolf locked eyes with his brother, not in any intention to challenge the wolf, but because the moment he saw that fierce hatred he couldn't dare look away.
Antony felt his heartbeat quicken as Marcus turned his body towards the younger wolf. On all fours his elder brother was now facing him, his body in a position that looked ready to strike. It was an intentional posturing, the same type of striking stance Marcus had held for the fox and bunny. It was a fact that spiked a new level of fear into the little wolf's heart as he realized that Marcus wasn't simply displaying dominance or treading on his spirits, but was giving off signals that made Antony feel less like a hunter and more like prey.
Antony's fur stood on end, and his legs locked in position, ready to spring away from the wolf that stood before him. He could feel his ears pin hard against his head; none of this was an act of submission to his brother, he could tell Marcus wasn't asking for that. Nor was Antony showing cowardice; this was all a bodily reaction engineered out of pure instinct.
This was stemming from a primal dread deep within his subconscious thoughts that told the little wolf that if he didn't pin his ears, if he looked away, if he made a single move that showed either weakness or resistance, he might not live to see the next moment.
An instinctual self preservation had fully taken control of Antony's body.
Marcus' lip lifted into an almost snarling display. There was an absence of a growl, but the display of teeth held no illusion: Marcus was ready to tear into the juvenile if it gave him any reason to.
In truth, Marcus already had a plethora of reasons to do such a thing.
You're why I have to take over, runt. You're why father has turned back to weakness and sentiment. Wolves like you are our downfall… you're not special… you're not valuable, you're nothing but a plague.
Still Marcus didn't strike. A small piece of him told him that doing so wasn't smart, wasn't calculating, wasn't the right way to solve his problems and that he had to show his superiority in cunning ruthlessness like a leader, not in blind rage like an animal.
It was taking all of his strength not to take out his frustration on the little wolf here and now, only his true plans of how to properly strengthen the pack under his own leadership kept him from striking now, the fact that the pack's survival depended on it keeping him in check.
Antony was doing his best to keep his courage under the scrutiny of his brother. He desired to let out a whine of distress in hopes that help would come, he wanted to call for his dad or for Wolford or anyone who might come in to protect him… but his throat refused to allow it. It was as if the juvenile's neck knew such a gesture would break whatever restraint Marcus was holding onto and invite those menacing teeth to wrap around it and rip it out.
Antony struggled to figure out what he could say to appease the impending wrath of his brother. Something he could say to let Marcus know he was sorry, and that he would do better and that he would be a better hunter.
But nothing would form. He was helpless.
Dad, please get here now!
It was pitiable that the little wolf felt so in danger the needed to call out to his father. But as the walls felt like they were closing around the little wolf, an unexpected, fairly loud sound broke the silent stand off.
~"You'll never know dear, how much I love you…"~
It was strange, it was unexpected, and it was so extraordinarily out there that it snapped Marcus from his fury towards his little brother. Reason and artful planning finally claimed the larger wolf's mind once again, as he realized just what he was about to do.
Marcus physically shook his head to clear out some of his anger, but the gesture could only offer so much relief. Like simmering water his anger would inevitably boil over again.
But for now he had control,
That can wait… The grey wolf told himself. He could solve that problem another way.
It wasn't that Marcus would have regretted solving one of the pack's problems there and then, but his reason told him that doing so like this would only end up causing more problems for him and the pack.
It would have thrown the whole wonderful design of his plans away! How foolish that would have been. To have blatantly killed the little wolf would have resulted in most likely being ousted from the pack altogether, perhaps even killed.
That wouldn't do.
Marcus was decidedly craftier than that. He would dispatch this sentimental wolf in a much more discreet way, and in a manner that would be equally fitting for a wolf so worthless.
Marcus took one last hard look at the nearly sniveling runt in front of him, his disdain for the creature was clear, even the same way one would look at discarded waste. To him… this little wolf was decidedly not one of the pack, and when he could he would make sure that the pack would be rid of him…
But for now, he had to achieve his goal.
Marcus unceremoniously turned away from the cowering wolf when his ears flicked again at the displeasing sound emanating from where the fox was.
Thankfully, as if the providence of the Ancestors had been watching over him in his moment of distraction, the fox hadn't moved from the tree it had stationed itself at. The bunny was now in the arms of the fox singing away at its heart's leisure.
~"You'll never know dear, how much I love you…"~
If the longears was trying to redirect his annoyance to it, the diminutive creature was doing a fantastic job as it sang unsorted, broken bits of a song. However, the fox soon proved to be even more provoking, as it held the little creature as if it had immense value to it,
The grey wolf wasn't sure how long it had been holding the little rabbit, but that didn't matter. If the fox wanted to die holding onto its companion, Marcus would be gracious enough to allow it.
~"You make me happy, when skies are grey!"~
Allowing them to die together was the biggest kindness Marcus was willing to do for the two worthless mammals. A kind farewell to the redtail that will contribute to his overthrow of the Alpha.
One last thought crossed Marcus' mind as he positioned himself to sprint at the fox,
Ironic that this redtail will die for falling into the same trap that the Wolford clan had fallen into.
Marcus smirked at the irony.
Heart, sentiment… love, empathy.
The biggest killers of predators. True for the Wolford clan, true for Sapper and now soon true for the fox and rabbit, and eventually his brother and Julius.
It was the trap that was as old as sentience itself.
A trap that predators had to fight against if they wanted to live and eat. A trap that said that the weak have as much value as the strong. A trap that had divided so many wolves when they fell into such beliefs that it effectively started wars within packs.
A trap that Marcus believed, much like this redtail and its longears, his father will inevitably succumb to thanks to his brother.
Marcus knew It was now up to him to stop the cycle, to wipe out this abomination like one would wipe a dish clean.
~"You make me happy, when skies are grey!"~
Marcus' eyes hardened at the bunny's poisonous words.
First I will cleanse this place, and then the pack.
As Marcus focused in on the prey, he hadn't noticed the stiffening winds surrounding them, nor the icy dropping in temperature. They weren't particularly strong yet per se, but they were definitely promises of a large storm approaching. A storm that had just begun already making itself known through other means right where they were…
Antony was definitely the first to have noticed the light flecking of snowflakes beginning to fall, it had been the first thing he noticed the moment he found himself able to control the wobbling in his limbs after his brother had…
He shook slightly again, whether it was from the winds picking up from behind him or the thought of Marcus' teeth he wasn't sure. But either way the lightest of snows had started… Which meant that their father had to be on the way! a thought that gave him hope and relief, so much so that he focused all of his energy into listening in hopes that they might be on their way…
And his relief was further strengthened when his ears flicked at the very faint sound of distant howling, howling that his father said they would use to help them find their way to them when the storm proved to be overtaking their sense of smell on the trial.
Dad's calling! Dad's calling, he's gonna be here soon!
And at that, Antony's heart revived. His hopes that his father would be here comforted the little wolf, told him that he wouldn't have to worry about Marcus much longer and he would be safe with the pack. And with both the promise of not being alone with his brother and the order that his father gave them to answer his howl the moment they had heard it, Antony filled his lungs to let out the loudest, strongest howl he had ever accomplished.
The Fox's Fear: In Real Time
Nick had not been expecting the most powerful, ear-splitting howl in the history of all howls, but it did wonders to light a fire under his tail and make the run for the den!
He hadn't known what was in the brush, but it couldn't be clearer now to what had been stalking them since he had ventured outside. The amount of adrenaline that had surged through his veins when the loud call of a wolf screeched out so close had been enough for his wounds to have been completely forgotten by both his body and mind as he sprinted back to the safety of his den.
But if that wasn't enough motivation, the fierce growl that ripped through the air and the ocean of grey fur barreling over the pile of brush on his right side was.
There were many things Nick could feel at that moment. He could feel the ill intent, and the aura of hatred that emanated from the determined beast. He could feel the chill in the air blow against his side as he ran, he could feel the light flakes of snow hitting against his eyes and wet nose, and he could feel his heart trying to beat out of his chest like it had never tried before. But above all of that… he could feel the pitiful shaking fear from the beloved kit in his arms. The nightmare that the little buck had last night was coming to life and this time it would take the bunny's life.
Nick wouldn't let that happen. He wouldn't let the massive monster have his beloved family…
He knew he didn't have a hope in the world to fight a wolf directly, and his special poison had been left securely in his den's enclave. There was only one real option that could save his bunny. He would have to give his life…
Nick understood he would likely only have time to shove the little rabbit into the den's entrance. The wolf was almost for sure going to be able to catch him as he would enter the entrance and try to crawl to safety.
He would be so close to safety, the brink of it, in fact, but as it was, danger would have enough time to grab him by the tail or by the leg and drag him to his doom.
The only thought that Nick had was how he could shove the little bunny far enough into the den before he was crushed by the fearsome predator. He knew he could do that much, he knew he could make sure he was safe and that Judy could escape with the kits through the hidden exit while they were distracted by him.
He knew he could do that much for his family, for the quivering bunny in his arms…
I'll protect you Ashes, no matter what…
The wetness that began to form in his eyes went unnoticed as the fox sprinted to ensure the kit's survival.
He didn't have the time or the mindset to realize it, but everything about this was truly unfair… No, it was more than that, it was unjust. Unjust that he wouldn't get to join his family and all of their future adventures. That he wouldn't get to console his little bunnies or teach them any more songs or cook for them or… or just be there for them.
If he wasn't so focused on his current task, the fox would've mourned his loss for not getting to see the kits grow up, not getting to enjoy life with his new family… not telling Judy… in just what way he had begun loving her…
But instead of having the chance to think of all that, a short prayer of thanksgiving had resulted.
Karma, thank you for letting me have them… even if it was so short… it was nice having a family again… please… if nothing else, just protect them.
...The fox's eyes involuntarily blinked away the tears that had built within them, a last note of just how much he would truly miss being with them…
But as they opened again, free of tears and dead set on the den ahead, Karma was granting him his request. Indeed, perhaps even more.
Nick's eyes caught another patch of grey emerging from the entrance of the den, an almost identical shade to the little puff of fur he held in his arms and very unlike the menacing ocean that was trampling forth from the side.
It was Judy!
That beautiful, strong patch of grey that he had grown to love, tipped with black ears and holding a brown stick in one hand and clearly ready to throw it at the oncoming terror barreling directly at Nick.
With grace and a strength that betrayed her size, she flung the spear at the animal that was furiously closing in on her beloved fox.
A loud yip came from the beast as the sharpened spear planted itself in the wolf's shoulder. But that action could only stop the mad animal for so long, it did little to kill the furious mammal's momentum.
"Hurry, Slick!" Judy shouted at the fox that was closing in on her fast.
She ducked back into the den to allow the fox and her sibling the necessary space to crawl into the hole. The tunnel to the actual chamber was plenty long enough to safely allow her to wait the few seconds it would take for Nick to enter. She had been waiting for the fox to come back when she had heard the loud, roaring howl from right outside, she was only glad she was able to help before she lost even more of her family.
She wouldn't let that happen. A sentiment reflected by the fact that she was right there waiting to help pull the fox and her sibling to safety deep within the den.
The few seconds of watching Judy bravely throw her spear at the fierce predator on his side served to both embolden Nick and give him hope to escape with the little bunny in his arms. The larger wolf hadn't slowed much, but it had been just taken aback enough by the attack to stumble before it had regained his footing.
It was a flaw just bad enough that allowed the fox to test his luck as he dove into the dirt hole entrance of his home. First the bunny was shoved deeply inside, followed by his forepaws and arms. His head passed the threshold of the entrance, then his body and legs and finally the tip of his tail.
He was in! His mind was elated, he was safe!
A furious growl ripped from right outside of the entrance tunnel, one that promised to kill the fox, brutalize it, and consume him. The bunny waiting for him inside took note of it too and wasted no time,
"Come on!" Judy yelled.
She grabbed his forepaws and yanked him further into the den.
And only as he finally moved did he feel the brushing of claws behind him sweep against his tail.
Nick's eyes bulged as he had turned to see a massive steel grey paw reaching deep within the entrance tunnel trying to grasp around to snag his fluffy appendage.
But Judy had been quicker. She had pulled the fox far enough in to prevent such an unfortunate fate. They rushed into the inner safety of the den to meet with the rest of the family. Ashes had immediately clung to Judy the moment Nick had thrown him into the entrance and he saw her, and now little Ollie and Cotton ran with full force to the safety of their fox and sister the moment they laid eyes on them entering in from the entrance.
Nick quickly scooped them up. Relief washed over him as he felt their little paws grasp against him.
I made it. I-
He lost his voice as he felt the tightening hugs of the little bunnies.
He had indeed made it, but they were far from safety. And their little bubble of safety wouldn't last.
Another loud, piercing howl filled the air from the outside, and distantly Judy's ears could perceive howling much further away. A whole group was coming their way, but even more intimidating, a fierce, terrorizing growl could be heard by all within the den, and even worse a new sound joined in with the deep snarl. A loud boom that shook the earth around them, deeper and louder than any predators growl- a clap of thunder followed by the sounds of intensifying, strong winds.
They were surrounded by wolves, and it appeared that the storm was now right on top of them.
AN: I think its all coming together. Definitely by far the hardest chapter I had written. Did it turn out ok?
Some explanations on the doctrines of 'sentiment' had hopefully been given and understood, as well as the taboo destruction of the Wolford pack.
I'm hoping the parallelisms between all of the characters isn't getting lost in the writing.
The next chapter will definitely be exciting to write! (Oh, and sorry for the cliffhanger, I'm trying not to do them, but now they are turning into more frequent occurrences.)