Under the cool mountain air, the night seemed motionless. A few crickets and the rustle of leaves, and the snoring of dogs. Sweet had a burning urge in her, one that engulfed her long Swift-Dog legs and told her to run. She glanced at the dogs behind her: Lucky, her golden-furred mate, and their four pups. All had better luck sleeping than her. With quiet steps she left the cave, her paws shivering as they touched cold stone.
Above her, the Moon-Dog's brilliant light scattered in the surrounding trees, casting oval flecks into the dark camp. With the shade of the half-fallen tree den, the moonlight failed to seep through. Sweet followed her instinct past the camp, rushing around trees until the ground gave into an open cliff. Her paws faltered, the trickling stones clinking once before falling, never to be heard again. The sight brought her heart to a faster beat, the thump so heavy it might've broken out of her chest. But nothing sparked fear other than her mind.
She sat, her long, slender tail wrapping around her. No walls were around her, yet she felt them closing in. The nonexistent cries of dogs in her mind as she did nothing but watch them die. How could I? The memories of the Trap House were long gone, but ever since the Wild Pack stepped paw in the mountains, the guilt returned. Her memories forced themselves above all else, and she could do nothing but watch, as she did long ago. My pack...
Every time the Swift-Dog Pack came to mind, she remembered the times of good and bad. And her packmates, her former packmates. There was Brook, a fierce and competitive hunter. Rocket, a young and gullible dog. And Callie... Sweet shuttered as memories flooded back. She watched Callie die under the force of a Loudcage, doing nothing but listening to her stories of racing.
No, this is my pack now. I can't let the Swift-Pack stop me. But the times of before told otherwise. Times before the Big Growl. Before the Wild Pack almost collapsed in on itself. Sweet turned to the star-lit sky, where the Sky-Dogs were playing elsewhere. She gave the stars a worried stare, as though they could heal the damage inside of her. I will get past this... I know it. What kind of Alpha is held back by such small things? The words hurt more than helped. Pretending would get her so far. She had to do something. Defeated and restless, Sweet got up and turned tail. Tomorrow, I have to give my place to Storm. Something isn't right. It never would be right.
The guilt stung harder than a bee, it hit her with more force than a tusknose. A flash caught her eye, turning her head back to the sky. One of the stars streaked across the inky blue, briefly brightening it with its trail. Sweet found herself taking steps towards it as though she could chase it. What does that mean? I've never seen that before! It vanished back where it came, but a wish left her tongue.
"Star, please let this be a sign from the Sky-Dogs that everything will get better."
Silence returned. Sweet had her tail and head low as she returned to the camp and curled beside her mate. The warmth was much more welcoming to her short gray fur. But Lucky's body twitched, like he heard her talk to the star.
"Sweet?" the whisper came in a gentle voice. "Is everything alright?"
No, no it isn't. She paused with her mouth slightly parted, her words held back with conflict. Sweet knew Lucky, he wouldn't judge her choice... would he? Of course he wouldn't! But what if he did? Was Storm even ready, and how would she react? "Yes. I'm having a hard time sleeping, that's all."
She moved closer to Lucky, his fur warming her in moments. Every Alpha had a rocky middle somewhere in their time. How else could she explain it? The blackness of sleep came with uncertainty, but by now her mind refused to think.
