From above he watched, having come running at his father’s mournful lament. He looked down upon the scene, his heart wrenching from his chest. A crowd gathered, paying their respects to a pair of wolves who had dutifully watched over the mountain pack ever since the smoke had cleared once the sky had fallen. These two wolves were among the greatest leaders Moladion had ever seen. Perhaps the heather painted man was biased in his opinion, for they were his parents, but he knew it in his heart to be truth. When he had come to the ledge which looked down upon the congregation, he found himself frozen, unable to move closer or to turn and run. He watched as both family and friends surrounded the two wolves, one stained in red and the other soaking up that which she lost. Sleekwing swallowed hard, fighting back the many emotional urges that gripped him. He closed his eyes to the scene for a moment, taking a deep breath before looking down upon them once more.

Finally he moved, descending the cliff face to reach them. His stride was long and powerful, inherited from the strong lineage provided to him by his parents. Each wolf in the group made their confessions, their promises. The youngest of his siblings sobbed for the loss they were about to experience. But Sleekwing vowed to remain strong and steadfast, determined to be an anchor for his sisters who were so deeply pained. Of course the dark gray wolf was grievous to lose both his parents in one night, but he knew that Alcide would never be the same if he were to remain on this earth without the other half of his soul. It only made sense for them to depart this world together, embraced.

Large paws brought the brute to his littermate’s side. He pressed his shoulder against Orca’s, offering his wandering sister comfort. Remaining at her side, he looked to Haven, Idunn, Ceal, Taliesin. But where was Daenerys? Lavendar ringed eyes searched the periphery of the gathering. Sleekwing was unable to spot her. Surely she would come. She of all of our family would have recognized the distress in their father’s call. His gaze returned to their fallen parents. The anger and depression that perforated the atmosphere was palpable. And Sleekwing knew that he must remain strong, level headed, to keep the balance. Stepping forward, he lowered his head so that it hovered between the ears of his mother and father, who were so entwined that none could break them apart. “I shall remain as sentry of the mountain. I will keep watch until she is ready to return.” Gently he licked each of them just behind the ear, and then stepped back and rested upon his haunches.

Haven and Idunn were so young. They needed to be whisked away from all of this and raised beyond the stronghold of the mountains. Sleekwing looked to Isola, knowing she would welcome any of their family with open paws. He nodded his thanks for Heyel’s prayer, and then looked to Taliesin. Anger boiled in the boy’s face. Perhaps he would take the girls. The charcoal brute knew only one thing – that in the rest of his family vacating the mountains, he must remain. He must gain the trust of the new wolfess who took up the throne. He must make sure she did not desecrate these lands. And someday, someday this would all be put right. But until then, he would act as sentinel, guarding the mountains of Spirane and the history which was his family’s birthright here.