The Eastern Alpha

The Past in the Past

Blood.

The sticky, sweet scent of it filled her senses. The metallic scent almost resorting her to another uncontrollable frenzy. The thick liquid dripped from her. Her jaws, her talons, her snarling maw, the injuries covering her small frame. It pooled beneath her like a stream, racing away from the violent act as if it were about to be caught. Scythe flexed her hand claws, the sharp tools clicking together with the effortless action. Scythe licked her jaws then, almost as if she had woken from a previous shock. 

The body below her, once breathing and full of life, had gone still for the last time. The eyes were pale and unseeing with a permanent look of shock on their face. Scythe snarled lowly at the corpse of the raptor under her, his cold black scales were scattered with fire-like tinged stripes, mixed with the blood from his injures and injury dealt upon his opponent. His throat was torn open. It was sloppy, clearly malicious. Scythe's breaths came out in pants, exhaustion replacing her adrenaline. The injuries she refused to acknowledge were now searing in pain. She shook herself, ignoring the annoying insistent sensation. 

Her father was dead.

She had killed him.

A snarl made its way to her bloody face as she glared down at the carcass of the male who had raised her. The male who had sired her. She couldn't help but think what a fool her mother was to stay with him. To allow him to destroy her family. To harm her brothers... a sharp clawed foot slammed down on her father's skull, Scythe's death claw piercing the unseeing eye. God she wished she could kill him over again. But she supposed it was best that she had dispatched him quickly. 

Thunder roared over head, the already darkened clouds becoming even darker as the first drop of rain hit her snout, clearing a small amount of blood from her face. She had to find her family. They had ran away in the chaos of the fight. Scythe shook herself out, shaking away the pain that surged through every bleeding wound in her body. She forced herself away from the body and turned as the rain started to pick up and patter hard against her black and gold tinged scales.  She had to hurry before the rain washed away any trace of her family.

Turning, her green eyes caught the sight of two toed footprints on the ground. The three pairs of tracks here rushed. They had ran from the scene as Scythe's mother led her two sons from the vicious battle. Lightning cracked above Scythe's head as the rain became heavier. The further she followed the tracks, the less she could see the tracks through the mud. She couldn't scent them anymore. Scythe risked a few sharp barks and paused to listen for any response. 

Silence.

Scythe's heart dropped, stopping her in her tracks as she still huffed from exertion, feeling faint from blood loss and using up too much energy. Where were they? Where was her family? A worried whimper escaped her as she looked every which way, looking for ANY trace of her mother and little brothers. But the rain had washed it all away. Surely they would find her right? Surely they would come back for her? 

Finally the mix of exhaustion and blood loss seemed to get to her, causing her to collapse to the ground. Her eyes grew heavy and she let out one last vengeful hiss. 

See you in Hell, Father.

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What was that noise?

Scythe grunted slightly, the loud barking around her causing her to slowly gain consciousness. Were her brothers up to their normal mischief? They better not let their father hear them, otherwise there would be hell to pay. Scythe slowly opened an eye, still tired. A light gray muzzle in her face full of teeth made her eyes snap open. A sharp bark of surprise and alarm escaped her as she jumped backwards. She immediately regretted the action as some of her wounds reopened. But she ignored it as she looked back at the strangers before her.