WX-78's POV

The sky was stained pink and red and orange with the rise of the sun. All night, while the others slept, I had watched the sky. Sometimes, counting the stars, but most often just letting my mind wander. Wilson had seemed happy, but also uncomfortable, at the fact that we had killed the Moose, but I couldn't tell what Webber felt. Every time I had looked at him there had been a different expression on his face. Grief one time, glee another, shock, then fear, then guilt, then excitement. I hated to think about it, but I had felt truly overjoyed at seeing the beast fall. Some part of me that I was trying desperately (and more often than not failing) to salvage hated it simply for being a living, breathing creature. So what if it had a nest to take care of? If we had let those moslings live, they would've grown up to be just as much trouble as their mother. Another part of me, that was decidedly my own thoughts, so take that Wilson, wondered if I should be more sad about it. However, even if I tried, I couldn't muster any guilt for it.

The beast had deserved to die. It was more trouble than it was worth. If we had not killed it, it would've killed us. It was simply the circle of life. The new day reminded me that I was, in fact, existing. I shook my head, only slightly, before turning my gaze disdainfully to the other two of my group. They were still asleep, of course. Weak. But the thought wasn't as scornful as it usually was. Of course, they were going to be exhausted. It was not their fault. It was the fault of their weak, fleshy and far too easy to harm bodies.

What if one of us had died in that battle? Could the other two make it out without them? If I had died, could they make it without my brute strength? Could Wilson and I make it without Webber's... whatever he contributed to the group? Of course, I mentally added. I could make it by myself.

But was that entirely true? All of us had suffered painfully for our arrogance in the winter.

Stop. Stop doubting yourself. That was a single case. An unlucky one, at that.

The rising sun caught the fragment of the Goose's egg, glinting like a tiny sun. Wilson had been clutching it to his chest when he had fallen asleep, but his grip had, by now, loosened enough to where it fell onto the dirt beside him. I hesitated, then slowly began to inch closer to them. I had not touched it since Wilson had retrieved in, primarily due to my lack of caring about it beforehand. I retrieved it, studying it closely and holding it up into the light. To my surprise, it was not just a solid color. Small fragments of something black and green glittered in the pale blue surface, looking quite like distant stars in the midnight sky.

I frowned, just a little. There were so few stars in this world, even on the clearest of nights. Where did I see that...?

Instinctively, I looked up at the brightening sky. There were many things that the old sky held that this one didn't. For one, I had a very faint, vague memory of clouds that appeared in light fluffs. Here, the sky was either clear and sunny or mostly covered in thick, foreboding gray clouds.

Sometimes, it was hard for me to realize that I had only been built in the past four or five years and that the time to form new memories was short. We had not even been in this world for an incredibly long time, but already my memories of our home world were beginning to fade. I looked back to the other two members of my group. Wilson never talked about a family or friends, yet he seemed to fancy escape just as much as I did. He never really spoke of how he got here; He tended to focus on what was happening and what needed to be done at the current moment.

Webber was an enigma. The way he threw himself into the brunt of the action, always eager to strike the first blow, to spill first blood, was oftentimes useful for our gain. Yet, he almost never spoke of freedom. It was easy for me to forget how young he was, despite the fact that he was the smallest of all of us. He was a magnet for trouble, of course, the most likely to shatter his legs or get pushed into the ocean in the middle of winter or literally any other stupid thing, but he also didn't show the same passion that Wilson and I shared to escape.

A soft, almost-but-not-quite barking sound jogged me from my thoughts. My gaze rested on Chester, the sentient pumpkin-creature had idly hopped up to me, and now it panted expectantly like I was the most likely candidate to give it a rub or a pat. I stared at it with disdain. I had my misgivings about keeping the little creature, but truthfully enough it was fairly easy to ignore, or even forget about. In fact, the only times I ever really saw it was when it had bounced out of the shadows to rest by the fire. Despite the fact that we held the item that summoned it, it rarely showed up. Good. It had better stay that way.

I didn't plan on giving it the pet that it obviously wanted. I looked up at the rising sun, letting out a quiet, static sigh. My team would be waking soon.

I stopped.

My team? Did I think of them like that now? Sure, I greatly appreciated their help at times, not that I would ever tell them, but did we truly work as a team? I had always pictured a team working like cogs in a machine, linking and moving and humming and working together, all the time, to make something greater. We fought, we argued- we were nothing alike. We even let our arrogance split us apart at one of the roughest times of the year.

Despite this, we had killed the Moose. Despite all of our pettiness and grudges, we had set that all aside in the heat of battle. I closed my eyes, leaning my head back and letting the sound of the early morning birds chirping and squawking as they flew down to the ground and searched for seeds to eat.

…

Intermission: Kyra's Pack

Kyra and Shatter padded side-by-side in the back of a hunting party. Her pup bounded beside her, his little pink tongue hanging out from the side of his mouth. "Where're we goin', mamma?" The newly named ice hound chirped in question, looking up cheerfully at Kyra's face. She gave him an affectionate lick on the side of his face. He was growing big, but he was still as eager as a tiny puppy. This would be his very first hunting mission- it wasn't anything dangerous, Varg would never send a warrior-in-training on a mission that could take his or her life before they were fully grown, just an expedition out to the rabbit holes, but she still worried deeply for him and his safety.

Shatter- the original Shatter- had died before the survivors had become prevalent to the pack. Sometimes, Kyra had heard Varg mention that this was a shame for multiple reasons, not just because an expectant mother had lost her mate, but also because if anyone could take on a group of survivors and win, it was Shatter. She knew very well that this is what his plans were for her pup. This was merely a trial run. If he did well here, then Varg would know he was almost old enough for a proper hunting party.

She wasn't sure if Varg would wait until he was at least fully grown before sending him against the survivors.

He wouldn't be that inane, she hoped. Sending a small pup against the survivors? Not even Varg would expect that to work well. Her nose twitched as she caught the powerful scent of rabbit meat. Sizzle, the fire hound pup, hung back for a moment to walk beside Shatter. "Are you excited for your first hunting mission?" Her voice was kind and soft, easily the gentler of the siblings. Then again, compared to the ever-rowdy Ebony, perhaps that wasn't a hard title to gain.

"Am I ever!" Shatter exclaimed, hopping between his feet. His icy blue fur was practically glowing in the sunlight, as were his wide, silver eyes.

"Hush," Hailstorm hissed. The ice hound was leading the party, his fur brushed out slightly as the smell of meat washed over them all. "Take your positions. I want each of you to lead your prey into Shatter's paws. The success of this hunt will determine young Shatter's place in the rankings."

"What about me, sir?" Kyra stepped forward, beside her pup. Shatter was quivering with excitement, his paws eagerly kneading the ground in anticipation.

"Take his back," Hailstorm instructed. "We can't fail a hunt just to train a pup. Try to catch any rabbits that he misses. Alright, pack, positions!" He let out a short, quiet bark, and at once, the entire party split into different directions. Shatter flattened his body to the ground, whining excitedly. She could see black and blue shapes moving among the grass. A singular red-tinted one slunk beside a black-furred hound as Sizzle followed \her own instructions. There were few rabbits still about due to the season, but a small handful of them had dug free of their burrows to store more food to last the spring. They moved as one, a full force rather than its separate parts. When they broke free of their carefully created circle, they all ran together, quickly eliminating all escape routes that could possibly be used by their prey.

Shatter worked surprisingly well considering his young age. He was fast on his feet as the first rabbit plowed its way to him. Kyra held her breath as he leaped, pinning down the rabbit solidly and biting its scruff, growling. Another rabbit swerved past him and straight into Kyra's jaws. He released the rabbit he had and clamped his teeth around its neck.

"That's all!" A sturdy, female hound shouted. She had a dead rabbit at her feet.

"Excellent job!" Hailstorm called. "Varg will be pleased!"

Shatter dropped onto his haunches, his tongue sticking out of his mouth. "Did I do good, momma?" He chirped. His mouth was stained with blood from his kills, and his teeth were partially showing from his half-open mouth. Kyra took a step back, her brow creasing with worry. Shatter's excitement faded as he saw her reaction. "Did I do something wrong?"

"N-no," she stammered. He's a hunter at heart. He is just like his father. Varg's... Varg's going to... send him out... "No, pup, you did fantastically." Her words caught in her throat. Oh Varg, I'm begging you! Please don't send him against the survivors! I couldn't live with myself if something happened to him!