Snow was falling gently on the water around her she was slumped in, on her coat, delicate clumps falling onto her nose; her pups huddled together beneath a large stone on the bank as she rested, letting the water cool her injuries, numb her legs. It would help hide their scent, too, here so deep into wolf territory.
She did not know what time she crawled out of that river, trembling around her pups that simply did not fit neatly into her like they had before, having grown so big. When she woke in the morning, a cold dawn greeted her, and snow, in its thin layer on the ground, did as well. Winter had indeed come early.
For all he tried and tried, neglecting his pack entirely, he could not get the scent back. It was like they'd vanished, and it was killing him to think what could have happened.
If they had been killed here, he would know.
But if, let's say a human took them and killed them somewhere else, then...
He stopped where he was, not having stopped for three good days, legs shaking, and dropped to the ground near where the den was situated. He didn't want to go there now. Not when he felt so sick. He laid his chin on the ground holding a whine in the back of his throat, closing his eyes.
Still, sleep did not claim him as he lay there, the snow melting into his belly.
She took great measures to keep them hidden and safe the next two weeks, not staying in any one place too long as winter took hold of the forest weeks upon weeks too early.
The smaller creatures were vanishing. No big kills were being made any longer.
Their food was vanishing. The pups did not nurse anymore, and even if that was going to be back up plan, her milk had dried up without her realizing.
And her puppies were telling her they were hungry.
They did not have the same energy they once had. Their coats, barely fluffy enough to withstand this winter, were lackluster. And their eyes were either devoid of excitement or full of fear. The only thing they did have were the promise of their father's huge paws to help them get through the snow, already slightly bigger than hers.
It was when Chessa kept whining in her sleep and unconsciously rooting around in her belly for milk that she was forced to take action.
Hoping the pack would not be out, in the morning, she led them to the valley, stopping frequently for them.
"What are those?" Dante asked her upon seeing the herds down below.
"Food. Elk."
She scanned the openness, the snow for any carcass, and her heart lit up upon seeing one, sliding down the incline, watching her pups mimic her. Continuing on through the deeper snow, she saw Dante and Quinn not having trouble, but Chessa, with her slightly shorter legs in her smaller frame, she was.
Though it took a good long while of walking, she got them to the carcass, only to be faced with iced over bones. Though her pups licked at the stripped ribs for just a taste of food, there was nothing of substance there, nothing for them to eat besides skin and fur.
Something like anger filled her and she huffed a sigh, closing her eyes, bracing herself for what she was about to attempt. Risks had never been her strong suit. But now, now she was forced to take them because of this cursed early winter and that evil man. Such was her lot.
