Nature's Soul Sucker-] {O}

[!--!] From them a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken:
The crownless again shall be King. [!--!]

Rustling amongst the undergrowth of the forest were creatures of all sorts, creating simple sounds amongst the chirping of nature's personal aviators. A rabbit here, a deer there, all searching for food in the summer shade. These animals, while normally prey to the wild canine, wandered fearlessly in the safety of the trees. Rain had been scarce this year, but the canopy of leaves protected the foliage, locking in moisture that would otherwise escape to the heavens in a state of uselessness. Instead of worrying over the possibility of drought, many species who had already bore children busied themselves in teaching their offspring the tricks of life’s trade.

Sunshine poured through cracks in white puffy clouds, the golden light absorbing into the female’s darkened coat. Ashe’s tumble with death the midnight before had landed her on the banks of this quiet river, breathing shallowly as she lay unmoving. In her mind, the images of what could have easily been her death flashed without mercy across the periphery of her gaze, which now lay dead in an endless stare across the small gap between woodland and waterfront. Only just the evening prior, the she-wolf had been exploring the mountains, braving the freezing atmosphere for the exchange of beautiful imagery and new creatures. The arctic area was undeniably attractive, but irresponsibly dangerous. Ashe had known this, and had paid her dues in the form of a tumble into icy water.

The specifics were already lost to her, but even the heat of late morning failed to warm her cold bones. A series of shivers rocked her body, causing the water that swam around her to ripple even more unnaturally than it already was. While no doubt still alive, Ashe couldn’t help but feel as if death may come for her at any moment. One of her character didn’t fear death, in fact, she almost welcomed it. However, like any other creature of Mother Nature, the wolf would never succumb to demise until she didn’t have any other choice.

Her muscles, weak from battling the currents that had attempted to suffocate her, had already refused her weight when she had first washed up – coughing up water and gasping for air. It was uncertain how long she had denied the liquid her soul, though hours had passed between the initial accident and her coming out on the other side still alive. Because of this, Ashe dared not try to stand on her own. The wolf was certain there was injury. Her entire entity was bruised, and a few broken ribs ached quietly at her chest. In time, these injuries would heal themselves, but for now the wolf could think of nothing but the throbbing that accompanied every intake of air.