Spirit's Bitter End

Chapter 4 ~ Peril Strikes

        The smoke slowly rose into the sky; great big billows of it like clouds of doom blotting out the sunlight. The scent of burning creatures wafted throughout the woods and flickers of light could be seen through the dense trees. The forest had been set aflame. As soon as the smoke was visible from camp panic surged through the small group of wolves and pups. Were the others that had been out hunting all right, or had the hungry flames engulfed them? A chorus of howls echoed through camp. Every wolf froze, listening to the hurried song. The rest of the pack was very much alive, but not for long. The oldest male wolf among the other stepped up and began barking orders.

        "Quick, we must reach the high grand where the fire will not harm us. The plateaus of the great mountain of Alderon shall provide us with shelter until the flames burn themselves out!" He howled loudly so that every wolf could hear above the not so distant roar of the oncoming monster. Immediately, all the female wolves gathered their pups up around them and began to evacuate camp, caring the ones that were too young for such a hike in their mouths. Ever so slowly the small group of wolves trickled out of camp and began the long climb to the plateaus. But one question still lingered in the back of every wolf’s mind. Where was the rest of the pack? Saria had already started the steep climb upwards, carrying Kari on her back. She looked down behind her to make sure that Muran and Pedrah were following. To her utter astonishment, she saw only Muran.

        "Muran! Where is Pedrah?!" She asked hurriedly, starting to become extremely worried about her youngest pup. Muran looked at his mother in complete dismay, not knowing how to tell her that Pedrah was left behind. Saria stopped and tried to fight against the current of wolves heading up. "I must find my son!" She barked hysterically. Other wolves tried to calm her and reassure her that he was probably with some other wolf a little ways back. Her heart rate slowed and she begun to believe that Pedrah was fine, probably with some other mother wolf near the end of the line. But she still dreaded the worst; still dreaded that she would return to camp after the fire and find his broken bones lying charred on the ground.

        Ubron stumbled blindly through the thick black smoke, certain his doom had been sealed. He could no longer tell where the others were, but hoped desperately that his family would survive. He tripped on a searing log and tumbled to the ground, ending up with a mouthful of ash. He could not see anything for the smoke was too thick; he could not catch any scent of the pack for the smell of burnt forest was overpowering; he could not hear anything other then the horrifying roar of the flames that raged all around him. What was he too do? But wait, he felt the brush of another wolf’s reassuring pelt against his own. He turned to see whom it was and was greeted by the soot-covered maw of one of the younger hunters named Ty. The originally pure white wolf now turned gray by ashes and smoke gave Ubron a panicked look, not knowing how to escape the flames. Ubron’s tail drooped. It seemed as though they were both going to perish. Suddenly, they both received a large shove in the rump, causing them both to stumble forward. Ubron glanced back and saw that the alpha was still alive as well. The pack leader glared at the two wolves furiously.

        "Don’t just stand there, fools! Run!" He barked over the roar of the mighty fire. Ubron’s heart was flooded with newfound courage and he began to dash forward through the flickering maze of smoke and heat. Ty ran at his side, the alpha still behind the two of them. Ubron wondered if they were the only ones left. Had any of the other males that had come along to hunt managed to escape the grasp of the perilous fire? He shook off the thought and focused his mind on surviving so he could see his family again. If they were still alive as well. He knew not what he would do if they had been taken away from him…

        Pedrah lay on the ground of camp, abandoned. He sat up, shaking himself until he was fully conscious again. What had happened? Immediately, all his memories of the past few hours flooded back to him. One of the older wolves had not noticed him and had accidentally flung him aside with her front paw during the hurried evacuation of camp. Pedrah had been knocked against the rock wall of one of the dens; he had a large bloody cut on the back of his scull to prove it. He shuddered as the blood trickled down his neck, soaking his fur a crimson hue. If it kept on bleeding, he was going to die before the fire even reached him…

        "The fire!" He barked, suddenly remembering why the camp had been evacuated. He stood up and began pacing back and forth, trying to figure out what to do. He was in such a mess of trouble. He had no idea where the pack had gone, if he stayed in camp though he would certainly be much crispier. He glanced into the woods, which were burning at a quick pace, slowly turning all the trees in animals into nothing more then ashes. The roar of the flames was thunderous, but he heard something else as well. Was it… Howling? Yes! Yes it was howling! Some of the pack member that had gone hunting were still alive. Perhaps he should just wait for them to reach camp? No, he had to help them escape the fire. But how was he to do that? He was no more then a scrawny little pup. Useless. He looked up at the sky, hoping for a sign of rain. But all he saw was billowing clouds of smoke, promising nothing but death.

        He sat where he was for about ten minutes, still trying to think of a safe way out of camp. But he could think of nothing. He mind was just as clouded as the smoky sky. What was he to do?