Mellifuous ✔

Chapter 4: A Mother's Silent Plea

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The wolves moved swiftly through the dense forest, the cold winter air biting at their fur as it carried the faint but unmistakable scent of rogues. As they closed in on the location, the smell became sharper, more defined, weaving an ominous story in the wind. One scent was strong, unmistakable—a clear, sharp dominance of an alpha, but it was tainted with exhaustion, the stench of someone who had been pushed past their limits, driven to the edge by hunger or something worse. The other scent was lighter, almost delicate—a soft, sweet, honey-like fragrance that clung to the trees and snow like a desperate whisper. It tugged at their instincts, sharpening their worries. There was indeed a pup among the rogues, the scent of youth unmistakable and deeply unsettling.

Their pace quickened, paws pressing against the earth with an intensity born of necessity, the air thick with the anticipation of what they would find. As they pushed further into the wilderness, their senses stretched, muscles coiled for action, but the raw edge of concern made their steps almost hesitant. It wasn't just an intruder they were tracking—it was a young life, unprotected in the wilderness, a life that didn't belong here.

When they finally arrived at the scene, the sight that met their eyes froze them in their tracks, pulling at something deep within their instincts. There, amid the trees, lay a white wolf on the snow-dusted ground, her body splayed out in an unnatural stillness. Her fur, normally a brilliant white, was matted and dirtied, clinging to a body that was far too thin—too fragile. Her once-regal form seemed to sag under the weight of starvation and wear, her ribs stark against her pale coat. Despite the agony that radiated from her frail body, there was something dignified in her repose, a kind of quiet majesty that transcended her suffering. She appeared to be in a peaceful slumber, but the deep hollowness of her frame told a different story.

Conall looked back at the other wolfs with a small snarl signaling for the others to hold their ground. The pack obeyed instantly, stopping dead in their tracks, their instincts sharp but restrained, awaiting his next move. The air hung heavy with the sound of the forest—the soft whisper of wind, the occasional snap of a branch underfoot—but above all, the tension that built in the space between them and the dying wolf was palpable. Conall stepped forward, his movements slow and deliberate, each step a careful calculation designed to avoid alarming the fragile creature before him. His paws crunched softly against the icy ground, the sound eerily loud in the stillness.

But as his paw settled into the snow, the white wolf's eyes snapped open. A feral gleam glinted in her gaze, a low, guttural growl rumbling in her throat, the sound raw and desperate. The moment her eyes locked onto Conall, the warning was clear. She couldn't rise, her body far too weak, but the growl was enough to send a clear message to the approaching alpha. She would not allow him to come closer—at least, not without a fight. It was a warning, low and powerful, and though it lacked the strength of a full-fledged attack, it was a challenge nonetheless.

Conall paused, his body tense as he held the wolf's gaze. His pack waited behind him, each member silently waiting for his next move, the air thick with concern. Even though they could all sense the white wolf's weakness, her refusal to submit was a reminder of the fierce pride that still clung to her, even in the face of death.

Then, a smaller movement behind the white wolf caught their attention. A subtle shift in the snow, the smallest rustle in the air, before the delicate form of a pup emerged from behind his mother's limp body. His fur was a soft shade of light brown, dusted lightly with the snow that clung to the earth, blending him with the world around him. His wide, innocent eyes, dark and full of both curiosity and fear, studied the strangers with an intensity that made the wolves pause. His small, rounded ears flicked back and forth as he processed the unfamiliar scents that wafted through the air, his gaze darting to each of the alphas in turn.