Bitter Still

In which Black loses track of earthly time

Black was still running from the phony shark.
The water still was cold on her thick fur as she galloped across the harsh and unforgiving landscape, even though it had been weeks since she'd been in the water.
"Black." Gray had said to her as she rolled onto the sand, filled with elegant grace she had never felt before. "Stay here. I'll be right back, peshkaqen." Black had laid in the hot-white sand, letting the water lap into her fur for a long time before the realized that Gray wasn't coming back. He'd gone up to the dunes. He had lied to her.
Black had run quickly, faster than she'd ever ran. That day had been a day for firsts. The first day she'd made a friend, and the first day to be betrayed by one.
Maybe not the first. She thought as she ran. It was snowing where she was, heading north where she belonged.
Deep, deep locked in the darkest and coldest parts of her sealed-off memories was a recollection of running with another pack. But she'd iced that over so thickly. Part of her never wanted to remember.
But of course, the names came to her immediately.
CometCatcher, SwiftPaw, EarthEyes, FireBreather, Redwood and Oakling.
CometCatcher had been very kind with her. Honest and free. Until she isolated herself off and became cold. Black followed in her paw-steps.
SwiftPaw, friendly, naive SwiftPaw. Blind to the problems within their pack, but also conniving and cruel.
EarthEyes, forever a stone-cold, snarky addition to the mix.
FireBreather was the nicest but also the most repulsive. Angered easily, with a shaky view on the world. Hardly anything that wolf ever said made any sense.
Redwood was benign and wise, but valued her own longevity and well-being above the needs of others.
Oakling was almost as naive as SwiftPaw, except she hadn't a single opinion about anything besides her own worth.
Black thought of these wolves with an aching sadness. She wanted them back, but part of her also was repulsed by these animals she had to share oxygen with.
Even so, if she ran into them she knew she was a goner. No matter how much the urge to bite their hearts out burned, she was sadly outnumbered.
Black sat with her back to the wind and let the cold snow drifts cover her up, welcoming the night so she'd stop having to look down at her useless paws and instead let the abyss stare into her.