When Strike awoke, she noticed that the sun was sinking below the horizon, dipping a red landscape into night. She stood on her cloud and opened her wings, looking down over the forest. I need to leave. To protect what I- what I love, I need to go as far away as I can. I'll go to the ocean. Maybe I'll find my old tribe, and stop using my powers. I'll be Alpha, since it's my birthright, and... and I'll forget about this place. It won't exist to me. Nothing about it, not the trees, not the mines, not the wolves. She flapped her wings and hovered for a moment, then went into a dive and landed lightly at the base of a lightning-riven tree near the river. Using one claw that was red-hot with electric fire, Strike clumsily carved a few words.
Leave what you love.
Love what you leave.
I'm happy.
Don't come looking.
Goodbye.
Below the words she burned a line in the shape of a small lightning bolt. With silent tears sizzling through her fur, the white she-wolf flapped her wings and lifted herself into the air, then turned and headed east, towards the ocean, following the river, not looking back.








