Pack Mentality

Journey

Even though swimming has always been one of Zilla’s favorite activities, he can scarcely find any enjoyment in it now.

Alone in the murky depths, without Pack there to frolic with, he feels even more alone than he had in the tunnels.

The Sun on the island may have warmed his skin, but it did little to quell the coldness that, even now, flows through his veins and chills his heart.

The coldness of the water, somehow, feels more appropriate to him.

He has no idea where he is.

These waters don’t feel familiar and, if it weren’t for the Alpha’s call pulsating in the distance like a shining beacon, he would have long gotten lost.

Briefly, he wonders how long he has been asleep for.

When hibernating, one doesn’t really perceive the passage of time in any way.

It may have been decades, centuries, entire millennia…

The thought does little to comfort him, rather the opposite, but, at the least, it is pulling his attention away from despairing over the loss of Pack.

Other ocean dwellers scatter when he swims too close to them, wheeling out of his way and shooting off into the darkness.

Most, he doesn’t recognize, from what little of them he can see.

The light, broken and dimmed by the water’s surface, reflects off their smooth hides, making them glisten faintly, as they angle out of his way.

For a brief moment, he feels the juvenile want to veer after one of the elusive creatures and get a closer look, but stops himself from doing so.

He is on a mission, he doesn’t have time for games.

For the most part, he swims with his head down and his eyes glued to the unchanging darkness below him.

It’s mind-numbing, repetitive, and lulls his mind into a pleasantly dulled haze.

The reprieve from thoughts about Pack doesn’t last nearly as long as he would’ve liked.

A strange sound reaches him from afar, forces him to lift his head, from where it was pressed against his chest, and narrow his eyes.

At a distance of several body lengths, a group of elliptical shadows bobs upon the calm waves of the surface.

They are the sources of the noise: a low, steady thrumming hum, that sends vibrations through the water around Zilla.

It feels unfamiliar, it feels strange. Danger, his mind supplies him and his heart beats harder in his chest.

With an instinctive sense of conviction, he realizes he must have trespassed on someone’s territory, that he is staring down an opposing pack, and that he is alone.

He’s never been in a fight alone, without Pack at his sides to support him.

Dread swells in the pit of his stomach, steals his breath away for a moment.

He doesn’t know what to do, just floats in place torn between pushing on and turning tail.

Another of Alpha’s summons washes over his conflicted brain, beckons him forward against his better judgment, fills his mind with images of Pack.

He can’t be certain whether they’re by Alpha’s side or not, but if he retreats now, he will never know for sure.

With a low, keening whine, he obeys.

Water parts as his body emerges from beneath it, cascading down the sides of his head and back in foamy waterfalls.

The setting Sun colors the sky orange-pink, and the waters purple-azure, while its rays glint off the oddly iridescent bodies of the defending Pack.