We can light it up, up, up, so they can put it out, out, out.
Soren tripped over his own paws as he fought for the last few steps which would carry him to the river. The warmth of the summer sun beat heavily down upon his back, and the gentle evening breeze rustled through his black fur. He could smell - almost taste the scents of the other wolves on his tongue as he lowered his mouth to the water. It was almost as though he had not felt the cold lusciousness of water against his throat for an eternity, he drank with such eagerness, and the beads of cool aqua fell from his white freckled mouth aided by the weight of gravity.
It had been Three weeks now since he had left the comfort of his previous home, and In that time he had fought tooth and claw for his life. If this was summer, then he was dreading the course of winter, for the starving bastards would ravish anything and everything for the pure sake of it. Soren's brow creased to a gentle frown dragging the white circle upon his left eye slightly off balance. It was still a mystery to him if heading for the wolves had been the best option, and if he was in perfect health, he would have argued that he was completely and utterly insane. Unfortunately, he didn't have the luxury of moving on and ignoring his own pain any longer. It was starting to get the better of him, and he knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt if he pushed himself any further then he would end up as someone's dinner.
So, he swallowed his pride.
Around him blood dripped from his body. The gash on his chest bled furiously with no sign of stopping any time soon. More concerned with masking his scent from the scenery, Soren lowered himself into the river, and let the cold water wash the blood from his limbs. By the time it would reach anyone the elixir of his life would be swamped by the cool fresh water, and that thought brought the tiniest shred of comfort to Soren's mind.
He tried to remember the reasons why this journey had started. It was important that he understood completely what he was risking his life for. Love. Ironic wasn't it. Soren, the cub who wasn't loved even by his own mother, was fighting for something which he barely believed existed. He was clinging onto hope of something more powerful and determined than the cynical side of him. He wanted to believe that it was possible. That someone could actually love him, and even though he had refused to acknowledge it when the precious brindle female had followed his every footstep, now she was gone? the emptiness which had swole where his heart should be was tearing him in half.
He was overcome with guilt. Even if he didn't share the love that she so freely offered him - Because after all he wasn't capable of such a feeble emotion. Soren still felt he had a duty to protect her. Or to at-least try, and that notion alone scared him more than anything else had done in his life. Maybe he was crazy after all.
SOREN
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