♦♦♦♦♦
In summertime, the twisted pine trees in the Dragonfly Fen had been charming, adding an air of mystery to Pitch Pine Trail’s den site. However, now the gnarled, frozen branches seemed eerie against the backdrop of the gray winter sky. A little shiver ran down Naia’s spine as she traveled toward her pack’s den in no particular hurry. She already knew what she would find there— nothing but dusty critter skeletons long since picked clean and the fading scents of the packmates that had deserted. Funny how that worked; last season she had abandoned her birth pack, and now this new pack had abandoned her. She had to wonder how it happened. At the beginning of fall they had all hunted together, bringing home more than enough to go around. The whole pack was helping Shade raise his two pups, who would have been ready to join the adult ranks as yearlings this spring. She was even going to ask Shade for a rank, a real rank in the pack… just as soon as Shade returned.
Shade. That was when it started. He left on a mission, and he just never returned. His scent at the border faded, and so it seemed did the pack’s loyalty. Naia sensed that there would be a struggle for leadership in Shade’s absence, so she retreated to the outskirts of the pack’s land to wait for the dust to clear. Violence was something that she could never stomach, and thankfully she could usually detect and avoid it before it reared its ugly head. At the borderlands she waited hopefully for her alpha’s return, ready to greet him the moment he set foot in the Deep Forest. She waited in vain though, and pack’s scents faded and howls grew quieter. She never saw her packmates leave, but as she paced the border every now and then she would smell fresh Pitch Pine Trail scents exiting the Forest, and never any reentering.
Naia paused before she entered the clearing at Pitch Pine Trail’s den site, unsure of whether she wanted to face the disappointment of one again coming home to an empty den. She let the squirrel carcass in her mouth drop to the ground. The weak, scrawny critter had barely fought for its own life, dying as it seemed to Naia even before her jaws closed around it’s emaciated body. She couldn’t help but liken the squirrel’s death to her own pack’s swift expiration.