Humphrey looked upon the scene, as joyous as his fellows yet also saddened, for he wasn't any longer bound to his crush, Kate. She stood there, pale fur still somehow shining despite the lack of light, and conversed with her father. Her father, who was the most authoritative and vocal opponent of Humphrey's crush on Kate; yes, this conversation would surely be the death knell of any hope of a relationship.
"What were you doing in Idaho?" he queried. Though this had little or perhaps nothing at all to do with pack law or somesuch, Humphrey felt still that his grim-yet-compassionate tone towards his offspring was hint enough to him not to try a thing.
"We were taken by humans to another park," answered his daughter simply, with no hint of regret or rebellion. Was she unaware that no bond could possibly foster between herself and Humphrey now? Did she not care? Was the mutual affection Humphrey had seen just a figment of his imagination, a vain hope weaseling its way into waking reality?
Regardless, this would be the last time Humphrey could possibly be at all amorous with her. He decided to take this last opportunity, do something, anything, to declare his love, even in the most passive or shallow of ways.
He stepped forth. Shallow it would have to be, he realised. "They wanted us to 'repopulate,'" he rakishly chuckled. He punctuated this idea by raising his eyebrows in a rather on-the-nose gesture.
This gesture, or perhaps the statement as a whole, was very much the wrong move.
The eyes of Kate's mother, old Eve, went wide for a moment, signifying like a portent of doom what was to come next. She lept at Humphrey, pinning him to the ground and squeezing the life out of his throat, her claws digging in further and further, even as it felt that there was nowhere further for them to go.
The world started to go fuzzy, and Humphrey realised that he was breathing his last. He had no time to contemplate his choices or his destinies, for not enough life was left in him for such a thing. All he could do was watch the sky go black and dust begin to accumulate in his eyes, like a corpse rotting before it died.
However, something strange began to happen. The world started melting away, like rain washing over a great pile of mud, sliding colourfully into an abyss both out of view and encompassing all Humphrey could see. Even his assailant dissolved into mixing colours, moving around aimlessly and intersecting each other to create wondrous combinations that could not exist in waking life.
It did not stop her paws from continuing to choke Humphrey, though. Nothing was certain anymore but his demise. The abyss, or whatever it was - death itself? - gradually ate even the shapeless colours it had created, the bare face of reality cannibalising its children. It grew, and grew, 'til all that Humphrey could see was the blackness, the bleak face of eternity.
But the world started to fade in again. It was a far different world. Around Humphrey - was he Humphrey? - was a great crowd of humans, but these were far different humans than any he had ever seen. It was an imperceptible difference, yet it was massive and fundamental. Fire from a great pyre behind him illuminated their bizarre (normal?) faces, in addition to occasional lightning strikes from far away.
The world began to come into greater focus. Whoever once was Humphrey now could see what was choking him. It was another human, dressed in different clothing from the ones around him. His face was stoic, but undeniably rageful. Whoever once was Humphrey recognised him, somehow.
Even as his mind kept slipping into death, whoever once was Humphrey searcher further and further into himself, looking to find where he recognised this man from. At last, he arrived at a small, or maybe large, epiphany.
This was Ntuku.
This was Ntuku, and he was Haqeba, the ngaka, or witchdoctor, of the Makungwe. He had killed Ntuku's daughter, Onika, so that Masaba, the defeated stickfighter, could eat her heart to gain his strength back. Ntuku, as it seemed, was unafraid to take revenge. Haqeba wondered how he found out; he had done a fairly good job framing Masaba for her murder. Maybe something happened in the city - that white man did come to visit him, after all.
But that was neither here nor there. Haqeba was about to die unless he could free himself from Ntuku's grip quickly, and most of his strength was already exhausted. He tried to claw at Ntuku's face a couple of times, but he got distracted by a simple yet complex question:
Who was Humphrey?
For some reason, after being forced to the ground by Ntuku, Haqeba entered a dream, or fantasy, or... something, where he lived an entire life as an "omega," as it was called. ...But that was also, somehow, all real? It was! Humphrey was (is?) a real wolf, who lived (lives?) a real life, and who did not deserve to die for something he had no hand in!
That's assuming Haqeba and Humphrey were one being, or one body with two souls, or something of the sort. Was Humphrey already dead, and Haqeba had for some reason been given his memories? No, he'd just lived those memories a moment ago! Somehow, he had to have been doing two things at once - riding on that train with Kate and being confronted by Ntuku. How could such a thing be?
The world started to fade out again, and Haqeba gradually lost the ability to ponder this issue. The world did not collapse into many strange colours and forms as it had last time, but rather it slowly yet cleanly faded to nothing. Haqeba prepared for whatever came after as he felt Ntuku's hands release themselves from his throat, through which no life flowed any longer.
A terrible, long silence followed. Haqeba heard the thunder ending, but that was all of it. It was painful. He could not breathe. He was dead, but he could not die - he was trapped in this black landscape outside of any world he knew. Relief, strange as it was, finally came with the final words Haqeba would ever hear, spoken by Ntuku:
"He was just a man."
Humphrey's eyes shot open, and he gasped for air. He was being held up at his mane by Eve, who for some reason or another had spared him. He took a moment to collect himself. He was alive. He was here, in Jasper. Not in Idaho, or in the jungle, or anywhere else. He was not a tyrant. He was a simple, goofy, hopelessly-in-love wolf named Humphrey. He was not the same simple, goofy, hopelessly-in-love wolf he was before.
He would never forget what he saw beyond the veil.
A/N: I wrote this in the middle of the night. I don't even like this movie. I just needed to write this.