Even the lofty heights of the mountains had not entirely escaped the dry heat of this summer. The drought had seemingly pilfered the moisture from every corner of Moladion, and Spirane was no exception. It was disconcerting, the way some of the creek beds ran dry and the typically vibrant green grasses shriveled to brown nothingness so early on in the season. My senses had been on high alert throughout the season, delaying the trip that I had planned to Diveen until later in the summer. Even now I was wary about leaving the mountains, loathe to think what might happen to the pack if something disastrous were to occur in my absence. That being said, I trusted my pack - there were those who would readily look out for the well being of the numerous wolves who called Spirane home if something were to go awry. Niviaq always looked out for the best interests of the pack, there was Sleekwing and his apprentice Baird, Arthfael with his newly gained standing in the pack, Nymeria seeking to step into the paw prints of heir, and many others who could be counted on in dire circumstances.

So as the height of summer came to pass, I departed the mountains and began a trek I had made many times before, making my way towards Diveen. This trip was to be far different from the last - one made in celebration rather than defeat. My brother, Taliesin, had become a father this spring, and I wished to congratulate him and his mate. Of course it came with the added perk of meeting my new nieces and and nephews and getting in some good puppy time - something sadly lacking in Spirane over the last few years. Perhaps a roll in the red dirt of Diveen with my brother's children would help abate my own desires for another litter, and the sore reminder of Jericho's absence.

Each trip made to the eastern coast of Moladion was different than the last, and this venture was no exception. But the differences in the landscape were far starker than they had been in the past, brittle grass snapping beneath the weight of my paws as I made my way across the usually lush pastures that fringed Ruieze Lake. The lake itself was at an all time low, far more of the beach exposed then ever had been before. The famished landscape was unsettling, and the further into it that I traveled the more ill at east I began to feel. Ears pricked alertly, swiveling to and fro to catch what little sounds nature made around me. My nostrils flared, head lifting slightly as I caught a scent that brought alarm into my mind. Mahogany eyes darted across the horizon, searching for the source. Smoke. I spotted the first wisp, curling towards the heavens, and immediately pivoted and loped in the opposite direction, back towards the lake.

But all at once there seemed to be a wall of smoke encircling me, cutting me off and herding me in a different direction. The crackle of flames eating up the grass reached my ears, and my lope shifted into a gallop. I knew that I had two options for safety - the gorges of Diveen, or the river that separated their pack from Glorall. I could practically feel the heat of the fire leeching the moisture from my body, and the decision was made. I turned south - or as best as I could estimate was south as smoke began to cloud the air - and ran.

Just beyond the growing roar of flames devouring the dry grasses, I could hear the dull sound of water rushing over rocks. As I hastened myself towards the sound, it was by mere chance - or perhaps fate - that the movement of another wolf caught my attention through the thickening layer of smoke. The wolf was going in a different direction, though. Not entirely away from the river, but not directly towards it either. Instinctively I turned to follow him, and only when I drew closer did I realize who it was, trapped within this furnace just as I was. And in that moment of recognition there was a thought so fleeting in my mind that it did not fully register as an idea, for it was never a true consideration, to turn and leave him, this wolf who had betrayed me and broken my trust. But there was no pause of step, no moment of hesitation. Almost as soon as I realized it was him, I called out his name. "Tithe! This way," a cough interrupted my words, the smoke beginning to infiltrate my lungs, "Quickly!"

And then I noticed the responsibility he carried, the pup between his jaws. How long had he been carrying him? So late into summer the pup was large - not too large to carry, but surely a burden and heavy weight upon his jaws. Maybe it was what slowed him, what threw him slightly of the true path to the river. I stepped towards him, all of the unsure hesitation and coldness of our last meeting forgotten, offering to take the boy if Tithe needed a break. Whether he accepted the offered assistance or not, I turned back in the direction I'd come from, squinting against the ever thickening smog as the heat of the fire seemed to grow closer with every second. Ensuring Tithe was at my hip, I loped forward, pointing south once more, ears straining forward to catch the sound of moving water once more.

All at once we reached it, my paws splashing into the shallow waters that would offer some semblance of safety. Now my eyes darted back and forth, searching for further sanctuary, perhaps an overhang of rock under which we could shelter and wait for the fire to die down.