The constant cold was growing tiresome. The deer-legged yearling longed for the warmth of the sun on his back and the taste of fresh meat on his tongue. With the arrival of the snow came the departure of the prey; with each passing day the land of Relic Lore grew more and more empty. Even wolves were disappearing. Some chased the prey in hopes of bypassing the worst of the winter, while others were unable to survive in the frigid temperatures. While he had been unsure of jumping into a new pack after deciding to leave Pitch Pine Trail with Anastasia, the boy was now grateful they had chosen to join Darkwaters when they had.

Anastasia…

Even just the thought of his former companion felt as though a stick was being twisted through his heart. He paused briefly to allow the thought to linger before continuing forward, his shoulders hunched forward. Although thinking of the blue-eyed china doll was often difficult and painful XIX forced himself to. He worried that if he stopped, even for a day, he would forget about his pale friend. As much as he wanted to remain positive and hopeful that she had found a way to survive the mountain and was waiting to return to Cut Rock, Lachesis knew the chances of survival were slim. He could not ignore the truth; denial would only worsen his condition, and the boy needed to be strong if she returned to the pack. Cut Rock River was his home, and would remain his home until he died or the pack disbanded – which, hopefully, neither would occur any time soon. If Ana returned to the pack the healer wanted to make sure he was there when she came back home.

There was also another reason why he would not leave the growing pack – her name was Capella. The pale, sunflower-eyed female had been one of the first to stumble upon the distraught yearling after his return from the mountain. She had also been the wolf to bring Shade and Karpos into his life, and had been one of his closest friends since their first encounter. Luckily the leader of his pack, Maksim, had allowed his bright-eyed friend to join the pack. The first few weeks after his return XIX had remained isolated in his den, even pulling away from Capella as he hid in the darkest corners. Eventually he allowed himself to seek the comfort that she offered, his thin body almost constantly glued to her side. There were still days where he would shy way, drowning himself in his thoughts as the grief overwhelmed him. Even when he avoided her and attempted to push her away she remained, her soft voice bringing the yearling back from even the darkest of places. After several days he finally abandoned the safety of his den, the frigid air biting at his frail body. He knew that if he remained in his den any longer the other wolves of Cut Rock were going to think he had gone crazy – which wasn’t completely untrue.

He had left the den without Capella in hopes of finding some sort of food to add to the pack’s cache. Living as a loner had been tough on the sunflower-eyed female, and while she had been busy worrying about him Lachesis had been concerned about her own health. She put on a strong face for the mentally wounded healer, which caused thoughts of guilt to surface. He was supposed to be the strong one; the protector. He had failed with Anastasia, but he would not fail with Capella.

Long, willowy legs moved with precision as he cut through the snow, his slender body weaving through the trees as he neared the creek he and Anastasia had made a temporary home of while they had been searching for a pack. Wrapped up in his own thoughts, the ghost had forgotten to pay attention to the ground in front of him. His forepaw caught on the edge of the beaver dam, causing the stilt-legged yearling to stumble forward and land face-first in the snow.

Lachesis would be lying if there weren’t times after Anastasia’s disappearance that he wanted to give up. Wander into the snow; allow the freezing temperatures to take him to someplace warmer… But he couldn’t. Not only did he have Capella to care for, he also had his pack mates – he was their healer; they depended on him. As much as he wanted to give up and allow himself to fall victim to his grief the yearling knew that the pack needed him. And what if Anastasia was to return? How would she react if she came back to find him gone? No – he couldn’t allow him to think so negatively…

With the blue-eyed dove being gone it was difficult for the yearling to be positive about anything. Everything had made sense when she was around. She had helped him prep for the life of a feral wolf and how to act properly in their presence. She had prepared him for pack life, and it was because of her why he had grown to be so confident in himself. It had been Anastasia to guide him in the direction of pursuing the duty of healer in both his current and former pack. After leaving the reserve and getting separated from his brother Nineteen knew that he wouldn’t be able to survive on his own, not without help. It was then that the pair had stumbled into each other’s lives, both needing something from the other. He had been wary at first, not wanting to trust a feral wolf, but had eventually warmed up to the docile stranger. Every word she spoke radiated with comfort; Lachesis felt safer with her than he ever had within the hot-wired fences of the reserve.

It was still difficult for him to think about her – as much as he didn’t want to he knew that he couldn’t stop. Thinking was fine, it was talking about her that was even harder. There were times where he couldn’t even choke out her name, as tears would begin to pool as soon as the ‘Ah’ sound managed to stutter off his tongue. Capella had quickly learnt that the A-word was not to be spoken aloud, and had temporarily discarded the name from her vocabulary.

Dazed by the act of falling face-first into the snow, the ghost remained where he was, hindlegs protruding from the snow awkwardly as he relaxed into the cold. As an Arctic wolf XIX was far more accustom to the snow than most – sometimes he even preferred the chilled temperature as opposed to the warmth of the summer. So burying himself in the strange substance was not out of the ordinary, even when done accidentally. After a few moments had passed XIX wriggled around, his forepaws reaching for solid ground to push himself into a standing position. It was in his struggles that the soft voice of Capella rang through the trees, causing Lachesis’ movements to increase in speed. Flinging himself from the snow the boy flopped into a sitting position, his chartreuse gaze landing on her pale figure. A small mound of snow remained atop his muzzle, but the boy did not shake it away. “S-sorry,” he stuttered quickly, teeth chattering against each other as his legs quivered in the snow. “W-wanted food.” Offering her an apologetic expression he remained where he was, a tidal wave of guilt washing over him. He should have told her he was leaving – he had already put her through so much, it wasn’t fair.

Stupid, stupid, stupid… As soon as he saw the worried expression etched across his friend’s maw the guilt became overbearing; he should have told her he was leaving. Although she would never admit it aloud, XIX knew that she had been frantically searching for him. The sunflower-eyed female had experienced her own losses. When Shade had passed away the healer knew it had hit his pale friend hard; she had known the former leader of Pitch Pine much longer than he had, and shared a deeper connection with the male. Then, during her temporary absence, he and Anastasia had fled their former home in hopes of starting fresh. Not soon after their departure the pack had fallen apart, causing Capella to search for a new home for not only herself, but Karpos. She had to watch the pack separate, each wolf heading in a different direction. He was being selfish, wallowing in his own self-pity without comforting his friend.

The words that dripped off her tongue returned the thin healer back to reality, his dull gaze resting on her pale form. While he had initially sought out food to be alone, XIX was glad that his friend decided to follow him. Now that she was here, temporarily filling the hole in his heart, the boy was grateful for the bond they shared. A hesitant, brief smile appeared on his dark lips the space between them filled with her soothing voice. She was home; a piece of his history, present, and future.

It was often difficult for the slender yearling to focus on one thought; his mind would hop from one to another, unable to settle. He was distant from reality, not wanting to deal with what was directly in front of him, and preferred to be devoured by his own mind. However, with reoccurring images of Anastasia appearing along with their experience on the mountain stuck on a loop, Lachesis wasn’t sure if his head was any better than reality. He was stuck in a limbo, too unstable to make a decision on which side to lean on.

“Here,” he responded finally in a soft voice, his pear-coloured eyes avoiding the warmth of Capella’s sunflower eyes. “I am h-here.” Barely. The distance between them seemed strange – Lachesis didn’t like it. She was too far away, it didn’t feel right. Perhaps she was worried that she would catch ‘the crazy’ if she came too close. Fighting off a frown from appearing on his maw, the boy spoke once more: “Wanted to s-surprise you. W-was gon’ bring y-you back f-food.” The stutter had returned with a vengeance, and he hated it. Prior to his departure to the mountain with Anastasia the slender healer had finally grown confident in himself. Now XIX felt as though the progress he had made had been discarded, buried beneath the snow that covered the mountains.

As much as the unstable yearling wanted to feel whole once more he wasn’t sure if that was possible. It seemed as though as series of unfortunate events were unfolding one after the other; perhaps distancing himself from reality would prevent him from getting hurt. Lachesis could not handle any more mental pain – the grief over losing Anastasia was unbearable. He had barely survived the pain the loss had caused; if it had not been for the presence of Capella the boy knew he would have not made it through the first week.

Other than Capella everything was wrong. His voice, the way he was acting, the distance between them, their surroundings… it was all wrong. Every time they had crossed paths prior had been filled with conversation and laughter, their youth radiating off each other as they embraced their age. Now, both wolves seem older; aged by the pain that they had both experienced in their short lives. A frown had managed to work its way onto his dark lips, his pale gaze falling to the ground between them as he tried to remember the last time they had met. His former self was roaming the mountains with Anastasia, searching for a way out; a way back home. The wolf he had grown into had vanished, and XIX was unsure if it would ever return. Something else would surface to replace it, but it would not be the same.

A familiar scent slapped against his moist nostrils, causing the boy’s attention to deter from his friend. The smell caused his mouth to begin salivating, his heart beat quickening as he searched for its location. Although he appreciated the words that had fallen off his friend’s cherry tongue, he did not respond. Silently, the spider-legged youth pulled away from the snow, his slender body seeking frozen carcass. He motioned for the sunflower-eyed girl to follow him with a sharp wag of his tail while his chartreuse gaze remained forward, his large paws carrying him over the snow-covered beaver dam to reach the other side. Within a few steps the healer had reached the source of the stench – a frozen elk, its body barely protruding from the snow. Brushing away some of the snow, the pale yearling turned to the pale figure of Capella, a ghost of a smile toying at the corners of his lips. “S-surprise.” The single word as a feeble attempt at a joke in hopes of lightening the mood.