This was the land of the strange- well, thus far, it was. She had met Rais, a liar of a wolf. Why he lied to her, she did not know, for they were merely acquainted. A rather poor start to her new life, but ah well. Then, there was Shadowstorm, a wolf who seemed to caught up in her memories to hold a proper conversation. Who was Idala? It seemed as if she was just a wolf. Nothing more.


The sun was warm upon her dark coat as she moved out of the forest and into the clearing. A small waterfall was before her; ears perked as they tuned into the rushing sound of water. With a small wag of her tail, she bounded forth, paws seeming to barely touch the small pebbles and stones scattered among the shoreline. Lowering her head, Idala approached the waters, lapping greedily as the cool liquid. After a few moments, she lifted her head, a satisfied grin now upon her muzzle.


Carefully the wolf seated herself, not to land her rump upon a pointed stone. Being a lone wolf was becoming rather tedious; she was tired of being alone and hunting constantly. With a sigh, she began to wonder if the pack life would be proper for her once again. Shaking her head, she now watched as a cloud drifted toward the sun, covering it for a few minutes. Eyes falling back to the water, Idala watched minnows dart to and fro in the shallows of the water.

It burned. The pain. Shit it burned. Like the sun melting a snowflake, his body sizzled with pain each move he made, each breath he took. A red fog clouded his gaze and had not lifted for some time. The glossy layer of his eyelids were sore, as if coated in sand and each time he blinked the sand would scrape across his eyes, like a million tiny daggers being thrust into the soft globes.
The fever. The heat of his body made him feel sick. His skin so hot that he had a constant film of sweat between flesh and fur. Each pore prickled as he moved, each follicle felt like a mosquito bite, itching and sore with no relief to be found.
He ached. His body heavy, his bones tired, it has been so long since he slept, really slept. He found no peace in sleeping now, no peace in sunbathing as he once had. He slept little at a time, always moving, paranoid he was being followed or that he would miss something, but he had no idea what.

His aliments were not physical however, they were mental. Lost. Broken.
The King had fallen. Hard.

Rhysis, a wolf who had been so powerful in his eyes, a leader, a fighter - everything he had ever dream of, was no more. Perhaps he was lost inside the hollow wolf that walked through the forest. His leather pads hit the terrain in silence, moving as quietly as a shadow, but far more deadly and far more lost. At least a shadow belonged somewhere. He had no purpose, but since he had entered into the lands of lore, something inside him had felt calmer. Perhaps not enough to change his somewhat sadistic ways of late, but enough for him to feel as if this is where he should be.
A the land turned greener, the scent and sounds of running water wafted towards him, hitting him square in the fact, a feeling of thirst came over him. He didn't think anymore, he just did and without much grace or care, he slipped from the forest and into the clearing before the falls.

His grey eyes looked up to the peak, watching the cold water cascade from the edge and tumble down into a pool at the bottom, but he saw no beauty in it. Just a tool to stop another feeling inside him. He knew if he drank it, he wouldn't feel like his mouth was dry. Life was just that simple these days. Without a sound, he strolled to the edge of the pool and lowered his handsome head to allow his coral tongue to snake out of his rubber lips and taste the fresh liquid. So focused was he, he didn't even noticed or detect the female not too far away. No longer did he calculate... he simply was.