Blue Moon-The Tribe of Souls

Chapter Eight- A Dying Leader

It was winter. Reed shivered as the first snowflakes landed on his nose. He shuffled his forepaws on the frozen ground. A few months had passed since he had heard that story of Blue, and the story was still burned in his mind. Having just returned from his nightly hunting, he held the prized shrew he captured in his jaws. He intended on giving it to Ashton, the elderly pack leader. Ashton was ill, and his mate Autumn was constantly at his side, giving him brews and herbs to try to cure him.  Reed trotted up to the alpha's den, the entrance covered with lichen. He poked his nose into the den. "Who's there?" A low growl came from the back of the den. A bit startled, Reed jumped back and dropped the shrew. "Please, sir, it's only me, Reed," he said quietly. "Ah, yes, yes, Reed. We've been expecting you, come in. Come in," Autumn's voice echoed around the den.

Reed picked up the shrew and entered the den, which reeked with sickness. Ashton lay on a nest of furs, his eyes watering. Autumn was coaxing the sick leader to drink a broth-soaked piece of moss. "I've...brought something for him," Reed said, trying not to disturb Ashton. Reed dropped the shrew at the alpha female's paws. "Ah, thank you, pup," Autumn said, her voice thin and tired. "I shall make a broth out of it." She picked up the limp animal and dropped it in her boiling cauldron. Reed, having been chosen as second-in-command of the pack, came closer to the sick alpha. "Ashton?" He said. "Eh?" Ashton opened one eye, which was crusted. "Oh, Reed," he said, his voice hoarse and cracking. He began to cough violently, and Autumn let out a sound of dismay. She hurried over to her mate's side, holding a wooden bowl to his lips. "Drink this, my dear," she said in a soft voice, her eyes narrowed in concern. "Perhaps I should come later," Reed said in a whisper. Autumn merely nodded, her eyes still fixed on her mate. "No," Ashton said almost inaudibly. "No. I called him for a reason," he said, recovering from his fit of coughs. His voice was very shaky and he began to tremble as he spoke. "My boy," he said to Reed. "I fear I am dying, and every wolf is in mortal danger.  It soon will be too late. You have to save them."