Fear.
It crept through her veins slowly this morning, so slowly that it didn’t quite wake the dozing scout. The River woman flailed in her sleep as a shadow passed over her and her dreams turned nightmarish, honey eyes flying open just as her King disappeared through the opening of their communal den. Well.. he had looked a bit like her King.. but his smell was all wrong. Naia scrambled to the opening of the den for one last look, blood chilling in her veins as the wraithlike River King disappeared into the eerie mist. Yes, he certainly appeared to be her beloved leader, but the smell—the air behind him tasted of fear, bloodlust, and agony…
Agony.
Naia breathed in, and the misty air burned through her nasal passages and into her lungs. She choked, diving back into the River den to escape the overpowering stench that hung in the air. She rushed to wake her family, but the boodle slumbered on as if enchanted. Realizing she was in a nightmare, the agouti woman only had one option left—to run. To run and run, and hope to leave the horrors in the dust. As she ran, she fought to extract oxygen from the mist that burned her throat. She tried not to notice the carcasses of dead prey that littered the ground all over. As she rock-hopped across the River for which her homeland was named, she did her best to ignore the frothy, noxious green liquid lapping over her paws. Running was not helping her.. it was only inviting more terrors.
Terror.
As she exited River territory and found the same horrors, Naia began to panic. Was she the only one left? Suddenly desiring the company of someone, anyone who was alive, a terrified summons burst from Naia’s throat. She called for the company of anyone else who felt alone and terrified, packwolf or no. She howled for truth, from anyone who knew anything at all about was happening. And finally, she demanded answers from the Spirits, who seemed to have abandoned the territories and the lupine children they once loved so much.