Claws and fangs reached through the darkness that surrounded him. A skulled mask howled from the shadows, calling in desperation for anyone to listen to his song, his plea, hear his words though his lyrics. The cries were cut short, death strangled out the music of a life that still called to the living.
Pagan’s copper eyes shot open, white tipped paws dug into the earth of their den, a yelp and a whimper echoing in the darkness. His small body shivered once, eyes closed briefly against the memory that was not a memory, merely a nightmare. There was something wrong, and he did not know what it was. Another soft whine, and he looked around at his family before getting to his paws and stepping out of the den.
Barely a season old, the pup felt a call to travel and roam. The feeling of earth beneath his feet was a constant comfort he knew he could never live without. At his age he could not explain the feeling of the connection he felt, but he knew it was true. One of the truest things he felt in his so far short life. Along with this feeling of truth, and comfort, was another that was… off. A discomfort that came when he looked at him mother and his family. There was something that was hidden from them, a secret in the shadows that moved away when he tried to approach.
His grey and gold body wandered through the trails, making a trek towards the forests of the packland. Feeling the trees around him brought a breath of fresh air. The boy even leaned against one of the thick trunks, feeling as grounded as the roots twisting under his paws. Eyes closed while he inhaled and exhaled deep, breathing in the peace of the early morning air, enjoying the still salty scent that lingered from the proximity to the oceans.
There were some things in this world he knew were wrong, but he could not place why. There were some things in this world that were right he knew. Some things like this moment, were right.