The lowly wolf from beyond the pass slunk from the cave they had all been hiding up in. Frustration was evident from how he moved: broad, stiff movements that sent rocks skittering over the ledges as he meandered carelessly. They acted as if Blackcrow was gone... as if he wasn't still with him. Slimtail was used to being degraded and ignored, but these cautious looks they exchanged and facial expressions that shifted between being incredulous and deeply unsettled. They made him afraid. What? What's wrong? He'd quip uncertainly whenever he managed to catch them staring. But they never answered. Blackcrow needs us. Why are we just sitting here? Once more they tossed their secret looks between themselves. The anxiety continued to rise until finally Slimtail could take it no longer. His shoulder was itiching again and the corners of his mouth pooled with foam. With a snarl of frustration, he took his leave from the Aniwayan Wolves.

But the anxiety didn't leave him even after he rounded the corner and was beyond the reach of their cryptic stares. Their eyes clung to him wherever he went. "Why won't you tell me!" he called out in his trembling, reedy voice. "Why won't you tell me what's wrong!" But he knew why. He had known why all along — he wasn't so blind as that: it was him. He was the one that was wrong. Why else would Dapplefur be showering him with her attention and her disgusting treatments. But why were they worrying about him? It was Blackcrow they should be worrying about! The frustration bubbling in his stomach rose to boiling anger. Reality suddenly became slippery and he lost his grasp on it entirely. "I'll save you Blackcrow. I won't let these horrible heathens take you away."

But where was he? Wildly, he tossed his foam-dripping muzzle towards the sky and inhaled.

And on the breeze there was the scent of blood.

"Blackcrow?"

Thick, milky froth streamed from his slavering jowls as he broke into a gallop and clung to his fur. And as he ran, the fear began to slip away. Everything began to slip away. The Aniwayan was a fearsome sight, rabid and furious as he leaped over rocks and slid down the heights. Had Blackcrow been out here all along, dying out in the cold while they argued over the stupid heathens? But Slimtail was here, and he would save his leader, he wouldn't abandon him like the others had. The form of a wolf came into sight..

But it wasn't Blackcrow.

It was wearing his blood, though.

He snarled, "What did you do with Blackcrow, you fucker?"

All the while he dripped.

The signs had been there along. The confusion, the itching, foam... But for many weeks, he had been managing to hold it together — but by what unconscious mechanism, it was hard to say. It was something fundamental about his spirit —his that so loved the light and would fight to uphold goodness no matter what— had been helping him hold it all together. Most of this happened outside of his awareness. Most. Desperately, his soul waged war against this dark enemy that had entered and poisoned his body... There was some terrible flaw that that the sickness had discovered in these past few days and began to exploit. Though his spirit managed, most times, to keep the sickness in check, the sickness broke through its defenses time and time again. Slimtail could feel this warring going on inside of him. At first he had only been nervous, but when the sickness stumbled upon this it purred with glee and clung to it. The sickness grew stronger within him, within his nightmares... And that was when his spirit began to slip, and that was when his anxiety gave way to fear.

What Slimtail couldn't have known was that fear would, ultimately, be the instrument of his undoing. His spirit was strong, tempered his faith in Unelanuhi... but fear was stronger. Fear flooded, fear eroded, fear destroyed. Fear was a abyssal crack in his walls... that grew and grew as the sickness worried away at him, at his spirit.

The blood.

The blood on the girl would be what broke him. Slimtail could never abide any bleeding. Deeply religious, Slimtail believed more than blood was an bad omen than a biological necessity. He had felt, more than discovered, that any sort of bleeding would lead to death within days, weeks, sometimes months. But it always lead to death eventually. A loss of blood was not always directly the cause of death. Somewhere, poor Slimtail had constructed this elaborate belief that blood was a sign of Unelanuhi's displeasure. It warned of her wrath to come, and it was this wrath that Slimtail feared the most. The prey they hunted bled and died. Old pack memebers bled and died... Blackcrow had bled and he had died. This scared Slimtail most of all, for he could not understand what his beloved leader had done to incur the wrath of the Gods... Or what he had done, for Blackcrow had made him bleed, too.

The sight of blood on the girl's shoulder —in much the same place as he had bled when his leader had torn his shoulder open— would be what finally broke down the last barrier that his spirit had been hiding behind. Maybe he had been afraid of the blood, maybe he had been afraid that it was yet another sign from the Gods. But it didn't matter, it was fear all the same, and this was all the disease needed. The sickness burst through, and in an instant devoured what had been left of his soul.

The pale, sickly wolf raised himself from his characteristic posture of the lowest wolf into a stance of dominance. His namesake tail, mangy and thin, arched above his back and his ears rose up from their home against the nape of his neck and his teeth came out too play. He took a bold step forward. "Liar," he cried, spitting foam towards the girl backed against the fir tree. "You will tell me what you did with Blackcrow or you will suffer a hell much worse than whatever has been set aside for you heathens in the afterlife."

• Now it's found us, like I have found you
  
  I don't want to run — just overwhelm me
  
  
  — The Lightning Strike Snow Patrol

There. She was caving.

"I.. I only saw him once.. That BlackCrow guy.. He was a black wolf right? Yeah.. he beat the snot out of me further up the mountain. Said something about me being ignorant..."

Her story, however, didn't appear to meet up with reality. Was he dead or was he alive? Had he just been up the mountain this whole time? Why hadn't he come down? So desperately did Slimtail wish that his dear leader was still alive, and yet desperately he wished to avenge him. But he couldn't do both. His frustration rose to a climax as all the questions and incongruent realities rattled around in his skull. All this noise became an intense throbbing in his head."BE SILENT!" He cried suddenly, his eyes screwed shut and his teeth bared as he fought against his confusion, fought to make sense of it all.

Somewhere inside of him a small voice cried, I'm losing it, I'm losing it.

But that voice was quickly drowned away in the flood of thoughts that eroded his mind.

He was gone.

But she was still here. Still rambling.

"I said be SILENT," he cried once more, his patience totally gone. Like lightning he flashed and like lightning he struck. With a thunderous growl, he flung himself at the poor, lost girl, his jaws parted and frothing. There was no aim in his lunge, no precision or anything besides a deadly intent: if she wasn't going to submit to his commands, he would shut her up himself. Permanently.

He felt his fangs sink into her brindled fur with satisfaction. Foambegan to drip down from his jaws and soak her fur. The monster applied more pressure, and a warmth filled his mouth as blood began to seep up through the broken skin. Blood. Yes, blood. This was a good omen. This girl would die. In the fires of his rage, pride began to kindle and burn fiercely. I will be Unelanuhi's wrath, was the booming voice in his head, I will avenge Blackcrow. In doing so, Slimtail would rise towards the Gods when he died, and he would be hailed as a holy demigod, a brother of the righteous. And he would hunt beside his daring leader once more... Slimtail was afraid no longer.... Wait

What was this?

Underneath him, the girl began to writhe, attempting to free herself from his hold. Snarling, Slimtail relinquished his hold on the stupid little heathen. She was bleeding, she was afraid... That was all he needed. He didn't need to kill her. No, the Gods would take care of that. This girl would be his vessel, the chariot for his message and his sickness. A dark smile clogged with foam spread across his face as the girl ran through the trees and down the mountain side.

"YOU TELL THEM WE'RE COMING FOR YOU. WE'RE COMING FOR YOU ALL."

Those heathens were doomed.

But his head still throbbed and he needed to lie down. Still smiling, the thin tailed monster turned and began to walk back up the mountain towards the cave that the Aniwayan wolves had been using as a rendezvous.

• slimshady out, dog

No she knew nothing of this. Perhaps it was a good thing. Ignorance breeds bliss. She would survive until that time when the illness decided to finish her off.

Running faster and faster Anne sprung farther away from that scary mofo. She was not sticking around by the mountains any longer. It was far safer among the trees. Run.. keep running. To the tree's and the bushes. To the lowlands where the other savages lie. I will be safer there where more herbs can be found... She told herself this as the creamy and gray she wolf disappeared into the wilderness, tail tucked tightly between her legs.

(Anne Out)