Redeeming the Lost (A Comforter's Tale)

Chapter 21

A whine slipped out of my throat while flecks of ash drifted into the air in my wake. More ashes crunched under each of my slow footsteps, echoed by louder sounds from my friends' paws as they trailed behind me.

Blackened timbers still poked up here and there, like the skeletons of a forest. More had been pulled to the grassy borders when survivors dug through the charred remains. The ashes had been beaten down by water and were caked together in places where they hadn't been dug up or blown around by the wind.

My rear end plopped onto the dusty remains of my old packhouse as I sat down and gazed around me, still trying to come to terms with truly knowing it was gone. The small spark of hope I had been holding deep inside flickered out of existence.

It had been painful not knowing the truth, but, somehow, seeing it with my own eyes was both better and worse. It was good to finally have the doubt gone, but now the scope of my loss came crashing down on me. The tight-knit pack I had grown up in was gone.

I raised my muzzle to the overcast sky and howled plaintively, hoping for a familiar reply. The wolves behind me remained silent, although I felt their desire to respond and reassure me that I wasn't alone.

There was only silence and bird song.

My senses easily picked up the fourteen wolves behind me, although the minds of the three recent additions weren't as bright. Without my old packlink to boost my range to our borders, my range was limited to my immediate area. It was another unavoidable reminder that my home was gone.

Blinded by tears, I staggered to my feet and headed past the trampled ruins of the garden. The distant stand of trees would hold the answers to at least one of my questions.

The uncut grass made the walk difficult for me; yet, none of the wolves offered to carry me. They knew I needed to do this myself.

Once I stumbled past the hedge, my shoulders sagged in relief when I saw that there were only two new gravestones. The chiselled words stood out on the rough, unfinished slabs of stone. Alpha Sorrin. Beta Merric.

There was nothing else written on the gravestones – a stark contrast to the other headstones in this small cemetery that proclaimed how much those people had been loved and would be missed.

Then I saw it: a small gravestone beside Alpha Nix's. This stone was polished and dried up flowers were piled up around it. Comforter Julie – beloved by the pack that she had loved unconditionally. Her large heart and rambunctious energy shone for all to see. She will always be remembered, even by those she met only briefly.

More tears escaped my eyes as my breath hitched. I was looking at my own gravestone. They had truly loved me. I stood there for a long time, reading the inscription over and over, committing it to memory.

A gentle breeze ruffled my fur and made the wild daisies sway. I grabbed one in my mouth and took it over to Alpha Nix's grave. Stepping over other dried up flowers, I gently laid it beside his polished gravestone and gazed at it as tears dripped from my chin.

I could remember his booming laugh when the Luna told him about a few of the stunts I had pulled, and how he would often lay on the floor to play with the pups and myself. I still missed him, and I knew I'd miss him for many years to come. With his actions and the time he spent with each individual, he had built up a legacy of memories. It was those memories that I planned to hold close to my heart: the happy ones, not the sad ones of his passing.

Dimly, I realized that I was not just saying goodbye to Alpha Nix, but also to the life I had built here. I knew that a pack was not just a house, a territory, or the cemetery for loved ones. It was made up of the people within it, a true community built on friendship and loyalty. Much like the wolves who stood behind me, waiting.