It was a cooler night, which Vaken could appreciate. Having travelled from the blackberry fields south towards the wildwood, the young wolf decided to rest. He had been having an eventful few days and it was draining him, physically and emotionally. The adrenaline from his anger was wearing off. He had tried to fight two of his friends recently- an astronomical amount since he really only had a handful of allies to begin with.
He had escaped, and fought more coyotes than he could count. Things weren’t going great for the impulsive yearling. He was desperate to prove himself as a strong wolf, but he knew he wasn’t. He wanted to be dominant and strong like his brother, but it was hard to celebrate his victories when they felt so hollow. His emotions confused him. He was not a leader, but the idea of submitting to a wolf made him shutter. How could he be expected to respect an alpha, when he struggled to respect his own friends?
He collapsed to the ground bitterly, curling up along the cherries. He knew it would stain his fur, but the troubled wolf did not care. Running away from home had seemed like a good idea at the time, but he felt more lost than ever beneath the starry sky.