A Wolf's Call

The Ice

Blood...snow...those were the only two things Skjoll saw. He shakily rose looking down at himself as blood dripped from his flank, staining his silver coat, "What a bother..." He coughed up a bit of blood and shifted to a human his human for looking no better as the gash opened up even more, "Of course...that buck got me good..." He slowly walked towards a small patch of moss and used it to dab away the blood and grabbed a handful of snow, applying it to the wound and shifting back to a wolf form, "How the hell did my ancestors survive...well I guess they didn't survive so there goes the point I was trying to make..." He started moving off ever so slowly the snow only numbing the wound temporarily. As he walked farther and farther through the snow barren land he began to recognize the landscape and turned towards where the his new pack's mansion should be, "The Alpha will probably have my head for not bringing back any food but I am unfit to hunt like this..." He sighed and shook his head turning back and walking towards where he knew the Buck's carcass would be. Upon reaching the carcass he grabbed it by the neck and started dragging, the wound reopening. "At this rate i'll die by the time I get there. Oh well. I can either die feeding my pack or die a cowards death at the hands of an Alpha who is not my own..." At this his resolve was solid and he continued to drag the Buck's carcass through the snow washed land. His path marked by a long trail of blood, pain and ice...