Thoughts whirled around in his head. What had happened? Where had everyone gone? He had been away for a long time... not through any will or desire of his own. The stoic wolf was known to be a loner, even within his own pack. He stayed on the fringes and interacted very little with anyone. His alpha's were aware of his needs and left him to his devices for the most part, unless they called for a pack meeting. Even then he tended to stay away from the rest, silent with solid walls up that discouraged others from trying to get to know him. Most were intimidated, or at least put off by his obvious lack of social graces. That was the way that he liked it.


So it was not uncommon for weeks to go by without him seeing a single other pack member. He could smell them and surely they could smell him and he was at ease in his solitude. He protected the borders and left his musk along it to warn off intruders. Of course most of the time there was very little to do in that senses. the sheer isolation and ruggedness of the territory discouraged the light of heart. Only the hardiest would be accepted by the unforgiving mountain. Even the little slice of 'heaven' that the rest of the pack enjoyed by the lake was surrounded by a wall of bushes that he knew to be lethal if ingested. Of course that was about the extent of any 'medical' knowledge that he possessed.


His very isolation from the others had nearly caused his demise. He was now a shadow of his burly self. Skin was stretched tightly over his burly frame. Every rib and bone was pronounced. Except for those in his left foreleg. That leg alone appeared soft and filled out. Almost healthy next to the rest of him. But it was not. If one looked closely, just above his ankle, two puncture wounds still showed within the edema of a healing snake bite.


The snake had lashed out and injected it's poison in mere moments, allowing no warning and no time to react. Within minutes he was already faltering as he stumbled away from the angry snake. As much as his mind told him to kill his attack, instinct told him that would be sure death... if the first bite hadn't done the job, another one surely would. After long moments, he stumbled into a small cave in the hillside. More of a niche really as it barely concealed his large form.


Time was lost to him as the venom did it's best to end his life. Fever raged and abated and raged again. The fight for life took all of his will and energy, depleting his body as there was no food to sustain him. The night dew and occasional rain filled pockets of stone and his instinct drew him to shift to drink the life saving fluid. He needed more, but it was enough to keep him alive.


_____


Now he searched for his family. They were not blood and he had no close ties.. but they were his pack. And they were gone. He searched around the lake and the entire territory. He even forced himself to enter the deserted den. Not once in all of his time as a Poisoned wolf had he entered it's confines. The closest that he'd ever come was an uncomfortable morning (at least for him!) watching over the little princess, Aphrodite. That had probably been the most contact that he'd had with any one pack mate in a single stretch.


Although he had no close bonds, their utter absence still struck a chord in him. Before Athena had found him and invited him to her secluded haven he'd been a loner. Depending on no one and avoiding everyone. It was truly strange apparently being alone once more. With no one here to arraign him for his excessively lengthy absence, no matter the reason, he felt a bit adrift. What did one do when one's entire purpose just vanished in the seeming blink of an eye. He searched for days, taking his time in his weakened form. He ate what little was left in the caches, curling his lip at the noxious fare... but he had to eat and regain his strength somehow so that he could catch fresh game and the decayed flesh of past kills was all that was at hand.


_____


Stale old scents leading in various directions was all that he'd come up with. Briefly, he wondered what had happened during his life and death battle with snake venom. He didn't even know for sure how long he'd been gone, but it was obvious that the others had been gone for some time. Enough that nearly all signs of a pack having reigned over the lands here were erased by time and nature. He's eaten enough spoiled meat to last him a lifetime, but it had served it's purpose. His strength was slowly coming back and his frame had filled out slightly


He now thought that he had enough strength for light hunting, but he was still easily tired out and this worried him. He'd never dealt with infirmities of this magnitude before. Not without some back up resources. The old pack caches were now gone and it was up to him to somehow feed himself when he could barely lope ten yards. With winter coming, the grimness of his situation did not elude him. He needed to heal. To do that he needed to hunt and eat. Yet, he was too weak to hunt a proper meal. So far, he'd started eating dried berries and grubs he found under logs and stones. They did little to sate his hunger, but they did give him small bursts of energy. The thin male spent a good twenty minutes scrounging up as much of this unsavory fare as he could and then he lay down on a cool slab of rock for a much needed nap. His plan was to make an attempt at catching some fresh meat once he'd rested.


If he couldn't his fate would surely be sealed. He had little to live for, but his survival instinct and plain and simple stubborn pride wouldn't let him die without a serious fight.