lost to the hunt as I was to you; any

[Daemron]

At the border, the maned wolf limps forward. Patches of ruddy fur hang from bony prominences; once-bright eyes blink dully as the aching body sinks to the ground in exhaustion. Long ears hang listlessly on either side of a badly-healed wound, its wicked scar etched and puckered across the once-sleek skull. A hind paw protrudes uselessly (crushed bone, brittle claw) beneath a hollow belly that has been empty for far too long. Still, there is something expectant in the crooked set of the canine’s injured jaw – and with a shallow huff of breath, she waits. Daemron’s reaction is immediate. A growl rips through him as he becomes aware of Red’s consciousness, panic rising in his chest at the feel of it – wasted and faded, like it was barely there. Without explanation he turns and flies from his wife and newborn daughter, covering ground with great speed, his limbs eating up the earth as rage and terror pump wildly through his blood. And when he comes upon the wolf (she that has been with him from the start – from his very own birth) and beholds her brokenness, his heart blackens. “Who did this to you?” he nearly screams, quickly understanding that this had been no accident. A feral light enters the grey of his eyes as he moves to stand over her possessively, though his shielding comes far too late. The small sound that issues from the heap at his feet draws his attention – the wolf glances up at the chestnut with a kind of weary fulfillment, and the finality of that look horrifies him. Hatred and self-loathing wells up from a dark place within him even as he blindly vows revenge. Frantically he casts his gaze about and cries, “We need some help over here!” daemron lost to the hunt as I was to you