The Heart of The Storm Part III

-What Hath Caesar Wrought?-

Brute gave an affirmative nod to the Alpha. Words weren't needed after hearing the piercing howl of their youngest packmate answering the Alpha's call. They had their waypoint now, and reaching the Alpha's sons would only be a matter of time and persistence through this storm.

As it was now, Julius would continue to lead the pack while Brute would take up the roll of calling back with his own howls to the scouting party. With years of experience, it wasn't particularly difficult to decipher just how far and in what direction a howl was coming from, although the strong, blowing winds of the storm didn't exactly help in that matter.

Things appeared to be going according to plan. By the earnestness, and urgency of the howl that answered them, clearly being his younger son Antony, it sounded like his sons must have found their targets and wanted the rest of the pack to be there as quickly as possible.

Brute called back again. Followed by Antony once again answering back with a mighty howl. The urgency in his son's second call was just as palpable as the first.

It was an urgency that Julius was glad to hear, thinking that his sons must have had the unfortunate prey cornered. However, his mood soured a bit when a clap of thunder shook the grounds they were running on.

Julius, annoyed at the storm, bit back his growl.

Ancestors, surely we can put this damnable hunt behind us soon. The Alpha thought, disdain for this 'Honor' Hunt growing stronger every moment.

What had started out as Julius' ideal scenario to remove a dangerous dissenter from the pack had metamorphosed into the most disagreeable hunt he had ever experienced.

Julius had finally gotten rid of Sapper, the wolf that had endangered the pack with his own sentimental wishes by continuously disobeying the Alpha's command to rename Demas after that of his fallen clan: Wolford.

Getting rid of the sentimental Omega had finally allowed Julius to both rid that thorn in his side and bring Wolford to heel. However, what he had not anticipated was how a third party would end up desecrating the Omega's corpse.

A part of him had been satisfied when Brute had relayed to him the state of the Omega's body. His plans to put the inexperienced Sapper on the frontlines had resulted in not only a humiliating death for the Omega, but also a humiliation in the afterlife.

A fitting end for a dissenting pelt like you. Julius thought, disdain for the Omega still as strong as ever.

Your sentiment could have brought us to the same fate as the Wolford clan.

Indeed, not only had Julius been satisfied with how well his plan had worked in disposing of Sapper, but even more so with the news of the desecration. His opportunism could only interpret it as a potentially wonderful thing for the pack and for his further consolidation of power.

If successful… there was so much to gain for the Alpha.

Wolford's need for vengeance would be sated and he would likely become an useful tool for Julius' future designs. Julius' leadership would also be strongly bolstered and his dynasty through Marcus would be all but guaranteed.

The key words being: If successful

However, as if being divinely spurned by the Ancestors, he had found so much opposition in this hunt. Brute had strangely challenged him (or rather accepted his challenge,) when he had brought up the wonderful possibilities of using Sapper's Honor Hunt for the purpose of furthering Wolford… That had been a shock for the Alpha, his oldest friend hadn't directly accepted a challenge from him in years.

But that had only been the beginning of his troubles in this hunt.

There was obviously the storm that was bearing down on them right now that had threatened to cut them off from their prey; It had loomed over them like a bad omen ever since they had departed from their encampment before dawn. Without a doubt, it would have erased the trail completely if he hadn't the foresight to send his sons ahead of them as scouts.

And of course there was the issue with this fox, the reason why they had to split up in the first place. The strange way that the vulpine had gotten involved only served to create an additional layer of confusion in their Hunt that had warranted an investigation that had sadly yielded less than desired.

And finally… there were his sons.

Marcus… Antony.

He couldn't discount the building tension that practically oozed from his eldest.

Marcus' rebellious nature towards him and antagonistic attitude towards Antony had only seemed to be galvanized in recent days, and for the life of him Julius could not figure out why. There had been an increasing effort by Marcus to challenge his authority, and an even higher increase in abusive behavior towards his younger pup as well.

Julius growled slightly underneath his breath. The way his elder son had been behaving towards his obedient child had been unacceptable. Julius would not stand for whatever underlying reasons Marcus held such disdain for Antony… When this Hunt was over, Julius intended to straighten that behavior out entirely.

The Alpha snapped his mind from that train of thought, thinking back to the bigger picture of his recent plights.

All of these issues seemed to be symptoms of some sort of divine conspiracy against him. To Julius, it felt as if some great power was working against him. For what purpose and reason these problems were all piling up at once the Alpha couldn't place.

It felt as if the ancestors were working against him…

And it all unsettled the grey wolf…

For a second. And only a second.

He chased off the fleeting bout of worry that tried to take over his thoughts, not allowing the emotion to grow. The Alpha Had the mental fortitude and the practice to suppress those pesky emotions.

He gave a furtive look back at the wolves trotting along behind him, eyes settling on the tawny brown male that trailed behind Brute and Casius.

His eyes hardened and he turned his gaze back to the front.

No, for the sake of the pack I can't allow such emotions to reside in me.

No amount of divine disfavor or otherwise would shake his resolve.

Julius knew that his leadership was unbreakable, knew that nothing could shake him because after what happened to the Wolford clan he had calloused his heart. He had been diligent in rooting out the sentiment and weakness that had resided within himself. He became the strong leader that could ensure the pack would survive, the kind of leader that wouldn't allow his pack to disintegrate over petty emotions like the Wolford clan had.

His resolve grew with every step he took towards the last howl. With each movement forward his confidence crushed his worries. Julius was the strongest, he wouldn't allow the pack to fracture and hadn't a weakness that could be exploited and because of that he-

"Old friend, should I call again?" Brute questioned. "Young Antony has not answered my calls since the thunder."

He was the strongest. He hadn't a weakness that could be exploited… So how was it now that the scarred, grey wolf, calloused and cruel as he had trained himself to be, felt the worst pang of anxiety coil in his chest at that question?

He could feel it, feel the walls close in. He had felt it every time he sent his younger son off away from him, but now it wreaked havoc in his mind.

Something's wrong.

Julius did his best to block out that feeling, to keep his composure, but that news wasn't something he was prepared to hear. He stumbled over his paws slightly as he trekked through the snow at the realization that his younger son hadn't answered that last howl. An unusual slip-up that caught Brute's attention.

The good news was that they could still find the general vicinity of his sons provided they didn't move. It brought little comfort to the Alpha however. The two were supposed to continue signalling back to them until they were in sight with each other.

It felt as if a large stone had been laid across his chest. Anxious worry laid claim to the Alpha's heart.

"What?! Call to them again, Brute!" Julius bellowed, his running pace and speed of speech simultaneously increasing.

Brute gave a curious eye to his old friend, there was an underlying tinge of panic in the Alpha's voice that Brute hadn't heard from Julius since they were pups still competing over every little thing. It was strange to hear that slight break in confidence in the Alpha, and it was definitely something the Beta would ponder over on their way to the scouting party's location.

All the same, he obliged the Alpha's command. With a momentary break in his running, Brute let another howl that pierced through the intensifying storm around them.

A moment passed by in a disquieting silence, the only noise being that of the forceful wind, the almost inauditory thumps of their paws against the fresh layers of snow, and the heavy breathing of the running wolves.

A dread that had no right to lay claim to a wolf of his confidence took over the Alpha.

They continued along at their speedy pace, not a sound shared between them for a moment that seemed to drag on for an eternity.

"Again Brute. Call him again." Julius restlessly growled out.

The singular third person pronoun in the Alpha's request stuck out to the Beta.

Brute's eyes widened. Antony. He's concerned about Antony.

The realization surprised the Beta, but not entirely. These days, the old Julius that he had always known and valued only ever seemed to shine through when that pup was involved.

It caused the slightest of warm smiles to grace Brute's muzzle. An understanding that his friend, as hard as he had become, was still somewhere in that hardened shell of a leader. The smile dissipated quickly as the image of a ruined corpse came back to the Beta's mind.

Why does it have to be this way, old friend?

That question taunted the Beta, knowing that Justice for the fallen packmate would have to be carried out eventually.

But even with that small smile wiped away and the fate of Sapper fresh on his mind, Brute obliged his closest friend once more and let out another howl.

The seconds dragged into minutes again. It was becoming clear, there wouldn't be another answering call from the scouting party again.

Brute sighed, willing himself to tell his friend that they were clearly not going to answer again. But before he could manage to find the right words, his ears pinned from a loud piercing howl from behind him.

Wolford, without command, had called out to the scouting party.

Surprised, Brute turned and saw the tawny brown wolf, concern clearly displayed in the wolf's softened eyes, the frown on his muzzle, and the raised hackles of his back.

Demas… you're worried for the pup?..

It was strange to Brute to see these features on his packmate. No, wait- it wasn't strange… He had seen that look before on the wolf. He had seen that look many times when the brown wolf was concerned for the deceased Omega. And again just that morning when it looked like the storm would stop them from reaching the desecrator who had threatened Sapper's afterlife.

And now…

Now he's worried for the pup…

Brute didn't understand why Wolford looked to be so concerned for the young juvenile, but that didn't take away from the clear fact that he was indeed worried.

Brute had seen that look before… the look of worry for someone that was cared about. The black wolf recalled that same look being on the Omega's face when he had refused to call Demas by the name of his clan and had been demoted for his disobedience.

It was…

Vulnerability.

Vulnerability from a sentimental anxiety for someone that was important to the wolf. Perhaps some would have called being vulnerable a weakness, and perhaps they'd be right. After all, anxious worry like that was an emotion that had been banned by the Ancestors.

Brute wasn't sure how he felt about seeing Wolford in such a state. Those were emotions that if Brute hadn't have begun to have a change of heart about, he would have immediately reprimanded his packmate for.

But now…

Was it really a weakness? The Beta internally questioned.

Brute hadn't realized how caught up he was in the brown wolf's actions until his ears flicked at the Alpha's voice.

"Again. Call them again."

It was unclear if the grey wolf was speaking to him or Wolford. But before that could even be considered the brown wolf behind him let out another earnest howl.

Julius didn't comment or question the fact that Wolford took over calling to the scout party. No address was needed as long as it was being done, as long as they were doing everything they could to reach the scouting party as quickly as possible.

It would have perplexed Brute, should have perplexed Brute… If not for what he saw right in front of him.

The Alpha's hackles were raised, just the same as Wolford's.

It only took that one look to see what he hadn't seen of his friend in so long… The Alpha, Julius, his friend… was clearly anxious… clearly… emotional… clearly…

Vulnerable.

That question reverberated in the Beta's mind once more…

Is it really a weakness?

The Seeds of Karma: A Tale of Two Sons

His shoulder throbbed. The spear hadn't been particularly thick, but what it lacked in size it made up for in depth. He wouldn't admit it, but that longears had one hell of a throw. Had he been prepared he would have been able to swat the damn stick out of the way, but as it was now he had only helped the puncture with his forward momentum.

Yanking the damn thing out hadn't even occurred to Marcus until after the fox and rabbits had successfully retreated into their hole and had moved well out of reach of his uninjured arm.

Damn it! Ancestors, damn these filthy pelts! A deep growl ripped from his throat.

His grey fur stained a darker shade of red around the wound. It needed to be patched, but that would have to be postponed for now.

Right now, Marcus would have to figure out how to dig these worthless creatures with an injured arm while avoiding anymore nasty, pointy surprises. It would not be an easy feat without causing further damage to his bloody wound.

But he was not one to be deterred.

I'll dig you vermin out even if it kills-!

Marcus' frenzied thoughts were interrupted by a second loud howl erupting from behind him. He turned to see his brother facing the opposite direction from the foxhole calling to the pack.

His shoulder throbbed again, That damn runt, this failure is his fault!

Indeed, it was Antony's initial howl that had tipped the fox off to their presence.

Marcus' anger flared at the noisy call. His hostile growl was a natural, subconscious reaction to his brother's faults. It was unclear what caused Marcus' body to shake more, the outrage that filled him or the loud boom of thunder that vibrated the whole of the forest.

The grey wolf picked up the bloody spear that had been used against him. Marcus glared in the direction of his 'brother,' then back to the fire-hardened piece of wood in his paws.

You endangered the pack again… You endangered me.

Marcus had been proven right, vindicated once again and this time at the cost of his own blood. There wasn't a shadow of a doubt that the weak, sentimental juvenile was a danger to the pack.

Under his breath the grey wolf couldn't help but voice his animosity. "Worthless, insignificant ant."

Marcus' injury was the fault of the little wolf. Had he not howled out, the fox wouldn't have been tipped off to its impending death, nor would that damn longears be ready with its own counterattack against him.

This time there would be a reckoning, and this time it would not wait.

Antony had been focused on the howls of the pack. His heart had leapt each time he heard the responses. The first from his father, the second and third from Brute. They were coming here and soon he would be safe! He would be-

The impact across his throat had been unexpected. And the immediate need to cradle his neck with his paws and try to draw in breath superseded any thought to answer back to the pack.

Antony could feel the snow give way underneath his frame just as easily as his knees had given way underneath his weight after the blow. He found himself in the fetal position, the sound of his own gargled gasping and a pitiful string of coughs wasn't quite as loud as the howling wind around him, or the loud screaming voice of the wolf hovering over him.

His mind was too blurry to figure that out right now, most likely because it was totally focused on wheezing in whatever little bit of air that could make it through the knot in his throat and into his lungs. Still, he could make out a few words: worthless, weak, fault.

Vaguely, Antony could feel the fur on the back of his neck being pulled taut and upwards by a vice-like force. His legs lifted with it in an effort to relieve the extra pressure it put on his now bruised neck. He felt like he was almost dangling in the air, only able to keep marginal support in his wobbly legs to lessen the painful pressure that was holding him up. His mind cleared up slightly when the force holding him by the scruff of his neck shook him violently in an effort to get the defenseless pup to come to.

It was then Antony realized that he had been unable to open his eyes since the blow. Clenching them shut had been a natural reaction caused by the unbearable pain. But as some of the initial sting abated into a general soreness he could finally creak open his eyes.

Antony wished he had kept them shut.

As if waking from one nightmare into another, the little wolf was greeted by the sight of Marcus' snarling muzzle being nose to nose with him. It was enough to make the panicked juvenile have difficulty breathing again. He tried to move away, to put distance between him and the imminent danger only to realize how weak he felt… and how that held him up was also holding him still… and how it was the paw of his brother that was firmly, painfully clenching the scruff of the back of his neck.

The sore pain in his throat was now accompanied by the new pain from Marcus' claws digging into his skin. A distressed whimper escaped his aching throat, but was quickly cut off by the roaring, angry voice of Marcus.

"SHUT YOUR FILTHY MUZZLE!" Marcus' voice was sharp, and it was clear that he would not tolerate even the slightest of annoyances from his brother. That point was driven home when his free paw swatted across Antony's muzzle in a solid, audible whop.

But Marcus was one to be thorough.

And with his muzzle right next to his brother's ear he growled out, "...Or do you need me to shut you up again you worthless fucking pelt?"

Antony tensed, tears in his eyes stained the fur around him. His heart beat in his chest at an uncontrolled, frantic speed. It hurt just as badly to hold in his pain as the blows themselves.

And the mental anguish the little wolf felt for not knowing why his brother was doing this only piled on to his suffering.

It wouldn't be explained to the little wolf either, at least not with words. To Marcus, it was plenty clear why he had retaliate like so. That hit was only a fair punishment. Antony had caused his blood to be drawn by the rabbit's spear because of his loud howling giving them away, so why wouldn't Marcus batter the young wolf's throat with the side of the rabbit's weapon to shut him up?

Really, he was being quite forgiving, only using the stick as a baton instead of its intended puncturing purpose. That forgiving nature, however, was running out. It was time for the little wolf to make up for screwing up his advantage over the targets.

Marcus dragged the worthless runt towards the fox hole before unceremoniously dropping him in the snow at the entrance. He didn't wait for the little wolf to regain his bearings or even catch his breath again. He was beyond that, so very far beyond that.

Right now it was time to rub the runts nose in the failure he had caused.

"Look at me, runt. TURN AROUND AND LOOK AT ME."

There were only two things on Marcus' mind right now. He wanted the vermin inside dead before the rest of the pack arrived, and he wanted to be rid of the sentimental weakness embodied by the damn pelt that writhed in the snow before him.

With wet and frightened eyes that pleaded for mercy, Antony locked eyes with his brother.

The worthless little patch of white wouldn't find empathy there however, and instead the pitiful sight only served to anger his grey overlord. Marcus had seen that look the many times he had beat the Omega back into its place, but Ancestors at least that wolf knew its place.

Ancestors, you're even more pathetic than that waste. And he was killed by-

An image of a sentimental wolf lying dead in the snow at the entrance of a rabbit warren came back to the grey wolf.

And For the first time on this hunt, for the first time in perhaps years, even perhaps since Wolford had been adopted into the pack… Marcus smiled genuinely.

The grin turned wicked when that image of Sapper morphed into the image of his brother…

Marcus was truly inspired. What way would be more appropriate in disposing of his brother than the same humiliating way as the Omega?… And to think he could play it off as an unfortunate accident to boot and be able to swoop in and end the vermin inside once the runt was taken care of.

What a fitting end for a pelt like you.

Antony shuttered at the hateful grin on his brother's muzzle. He could feel the malice oozing from the grey wolf. It filled him with dread.

The burning in his throat from the blow earlier had been enough pain already, but as his brother stood over him menacingly, glaring at him with those cold, hateful eyes, Antony couldn't help but feel so small and powerless. A shiver ran through his scrawny frame, not from the cold of the blizzard around them but completely to do with his brother's hardened stare bearing down on him.

His pain had only begun.

"Dig."

"Wha-"

"Start digging, pelt…" His voice was raised, and the spear was clutched tightly in his paws much like a baton, promising to give the little wolf the senseless beating he deserved if he didn't comply.

"Start digging now."

Flee(t)ing Life, Steadfast Love

They didn't have long to pack up. What they would be able to take was limited and the fact that an injured fox would have to carry the three rabbit kits through the snow was a given.

Right now the fox was working on winterizing a familiar basket in order to carry the bunnies through this storm. In a way it was poetic, the scavenging basket he had used to carry the kits to his den the night he found them in the snow would now be used to carry them away from it through a snowstorm. The coldness of the snow would have snuffed out their little lives if they had been left in it for much longer, and now braving a blizzard was their only hope for survival.

He looked to the bed to see the shaking, cowering bunnies clinging to their older sister. They were so terribly frightened and had huddled in Judy's strong grasp. These kits had watched their own warren being dug up and their beloved family torn apart by the very creatures that waited above them, and that dreadful reality clung to them just as strongly as they clung to their sister.

The fox's verdant greens caught the violets of the bunny he loved, and for a moment their eyes locked. An unspoken message was shared between them.

I'll protect them no matter what… The fox internally vowed to his family.

Although it was true, the thought didn't exactly fit right when those violet eyes gazed back into his own so protectively…

We'll protect them no matter what. He amended.

Even in his own thoughts he already knew… she wouldn't let him leave himself behind. They were a team. And even though he would be perfectly willing to lay down his life for his family, he knew just as well that she would do everything in her power to not let that happen…

Nick finished with the now winterized bunny carrier. He placed the altered basket on the bed next to the rabbits before rushing to grab Judy's pack and bringing it to the storage enclave. Nick quickly began stuffing as much food as he could in her bag.

They would need it where they were going.

If… if it's still there. He thought. Karma, he hoped it was. It had to be for their sake.

His ears flicked at the roaring, incensed voice above,

They're right outside.

Nick couldn't make out the words, but the tone of the animal was as clear as day. The furious voice had been unsettling enough, but the real concern began when the quick scratching sounds began to emanate against the entrance tunnel.

They were going to dig them out soon.

And in a den full of rabbits, he certainly wasn't the only one to catch on to that.

"Nick! We need to get moving NOW." Judy yelled. She had the three little kits already situated in the prepped carrier on the bed, they were huddled into each other for comfort, and even from across the den he could hear their distressed cries through the blanket that Judy had covered them with.

"I- We have to be prepared or we won't make it out there! I- I need more time!"

She knew he was right. Hated that he was right. They would need some supplies to stay warm during the blizzard… otherwise they may not make it through the thick of the storm. Not only that but they would need rations during and after the storm for sure, finding food in the winter, especially with the added layers of deep snow would be nigh impossible.

Nick hadn't expected to see his bunny by his side at the enclave, but he wasn't sure why he hadn't. Of course she wouldn't be sitting down when a threat was this close.

Judy didn't have to scan long before she saw his fishing spears. They weren't fire-hardened and weren't built for defense against larger creatures, but the tools would have to do since her spear was well out of reach. She grasped one of the weapons, giving it an experimental thrust and adjusting her grip to the slightly increased weight and length of the spear.

"I'll buy us some time!" She said, resolutely.

The fox's paw caught her by the shoulder before she could rush to the tunnel entrance.

"Judy, wait!"

Wait? She couldn't do that. Not when so much was at risk. And a part of her almost snapped at the fox for those two simple words. She couldn't help but immediately wonder if he was going to try to stop her from defending him and her siblings? From defending the ones she loved? She wouldn't let that be the case, she wouldn't fail her new family too.

"No, Nick! I hav-"

She lost her voice when those large russet arms wrapped around her up so quickly. She could feel his snout press against the side of her neck breathing in her scent and her ears perceived the slightest of a distressed whimper. It was a hug. A hug that spoke louder than a host of words ever could. He wasn't going to stop her… He… he just needed this, needed to feel the comfort of her scent and to try to give that same comfort before she risked her life. When she realized that… the hug felt intimately close, not unlike when she had kissed him on his nose last night.

"I know." His voice was small, vulnerable even.

Judy could feel him inhale again, breathing her scent in as if he might lose her… Because… he could lose her.

She gave in to the urge to hold him as well. The spear thudded on the den floor as she cradled her face into the downy, cream-colored fur of his throat. The scent of violets, the scent of her home, old and new, filled her nose. It was a scent that she wasn't willing to lose again, a scent that she had to fight for.

His paws found their way to her shoulders and grasped her tightly, and when he willed himself to pull his snout away from her neck's fur he had to stare into those eyes… Those beautiful amethysts that shined light into him, that had mended his lonely heart.

He couldn't lose those eyes. He couldn't lose her.

"Please… be safe."

He… he really wasn't going to stop her. She could tell from his eyes that he wanted to… wanted to stop her so badly. That he…

Doesn't want to lose anymore family…

Same as her. But he also knew that she had to slow them down if they wanted to leave with enough supplies to survive out there.

He began to pull himself away, but before he could her paws had clasped against both sides of his muzzle. He was trapped by those soft padless paws, and drawn back into those loving violet eyes.

She wouldn't let him go yet, couldn't leave him like this.

She wanted to tell him she would be safe, wanted to promise it. But that wasn't a guarantee she could make… But she could promise one thing. The one thing the fox had earned so thoroughly since she had met him, the one thing that she had realized she had wanted to give to him already.

She could promise her heart.

Tenderly, she pulled his face closer to hers. His muzzle was so close to hers now, and she wanted to give him everything she could, let him have every part of her heart. And there was only one way she could communicate that right now fully, only one way that would make her heart known to the fox that she loved.

Her soft lips lightly brushed against his, her small paws drew him in closer, pressing him into her. And when his lips moved with hers, when she felt the love and passion that he put right back into it, her heart was his… and his heart was hers. Truly hers.

The kiss was brief, it had to be. But it still told them both everything they needed to know.

It was love.

"No matter what happens, Nick," Judy began, "I love you."

And with that the bunny picked up her spear and ran to the entrance tunnel, leaving behind a stunned but oh so motivated fox to gather what they needed to brave the storm.

AN: I enjoyed writing this chapter immensely, although I felt so pained to treat Antony in such a way. :/ Were you expecting that? What about Marcus' plan? The nighthowler lay forgotten for a moment, but don't worry it will find its way into the story once again.