Ahote
Male | 36 | Fighter
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Nearly a full day behind the pack, Ahote had been running through the dark night trying desperately to catch up. If there was one thing the fighter hated in all the world, it was being alone, and fear gnawed at the edges of his consciousness, spurring him onward. Just four days ago, he had stood before his alpha, Resin, and she had given him an important mission. Being strong and fast, and more than capable of taking care of himself, he was to run to the northern borders to seek out loners and the remaining members of other packs, really anyone out of earshot of their midlands, and tell them of the impending meeting and its importance. The assembly would take place in two days, and they would be leaving the next morning - wether he had returned or not. Ever since joining Scarpaw, he had looked up to the smoke-colored fea, and it was an honor to have been chosen. He would never admit it, but it felt good in his heart to know that he was trusted. Yet, at the same time, this was exactly the sort of thing that made the massive brute uneasy, and as he left the pack behind anxiety gnawed at the pit of his stomach.
Running for the rest of the afternoon, Ahote reached the borderlands just before dark and took shelter against an uplifting of cracked ice. All night, he listened to the ocean beneath and the groaning of the glacier that peppered his dreams with strange, gnawing creatures, leaving him exhausted and jittery come the dawn. Setting out into the blowing snow, tinted gold with first light, it was the only time that the umber and mahogany wolf ever blended in with his surroundings, and for the moment he felt safe enough to raise his voice to the wind and send out their message. He spend the rest of the day calling then, traveling slowly along the entire northern border until he reached the sea in the West. In all that time, he only saw one other great wolf, a grizzled old loner with a snow-addled mind. The raving brute tried to tell him that no matter how hot the sun got, he would never leave, his shadow would keep the ice from melting. Needless to say, Ahote left him quickly, not wanting to cause the elder undue stress through unfruitful persuasion.
Stopping for the night where the land ended, Ahote found himself hungry and tired, not having taken the time to hunt during the day. However, it seemed as if, at least this once, fortune had smiled on him and he was met with low tide and a lovely buffet of muscles and crabs clinging to the edge of the ice. The crunchy little critters made a half decent, if time consuming meal, and by the time he was finished he was too tired to climb up the edge of the ice once more. Thus, taking an undue risk, he simply hopped up above the waterline and dug a little hollow in the snow to sleep.
It wasn't until the next morning the Ahote discovered his mistake, as he awoke to find himself on an island. While he had been smart enough to know not to fall asleep below the waterline, he had neglected to see that the piece of ice he crawled up onto was connected to the mainland. Now, he was trapped on a ten-square meter area, with another ten meters of frigid water between him and the shore. Too far to jump, and there was no way he was swimming it, he was wolf, not a white bear, and had no desire to freeze to death. Cursing his idiocy, he paced the length and breadth of it a hundred times, waiting for the tide to recede and set him free.
Twelve hours later, the ocean finally pulled back far enough for Ahote to run across and only wet his paws. Furious with himself for the delay, and trying desperately to keep the thought of being left behind out of his mind, he ran as fast as he feet would carry him. Yet even desperation has its limits, and he was only able to push himself far enough to reach the meeting grounds by midday after Resin had taken the pack South. Practically shaking with exhaustion, he could go no further, no matter what he tried, and ended up spending a very lonely afternoon in his old den, eerily alone and empty.
Awaking to the darkness of a new moon night, Ahote got up and tracked down the remains of the pack's last meal. Though there wasn't much left, there was at least enough to give him the strength he needed to continue. That night, he had pushed himself harder than he ever had in his life, running until he could no longer feel the pads on his feet. Now, finally, his nose had picked up on the fresh trail of the pack, and the scent reinvigorated him. In this way, the dawn found him once again, running alone across the barren field of ice.
Having spent so long in the dark, the young light seemed too bright, almost as though the world around him had been sapped of all color and vibrance. A cold mist rose where the sun sublimated the snow, blending the horizon into the ground in front of him, so that no matter how far he ran it felt like he was standing still. Even the sky seemed grey and distant above him, and at first, Ahote had to squint his amber eyes into slits just to see where he was going. Luckily for the brown brute, he could see just enough to narrowly avoid running right off the edge of the chasm that Resin and Attican had crossed not long before. Confronted with the impasse that the Alpha and her brother had discovered yesterday, he skids to a heart pounding halt. For a long time, he just stood there, panting hard and staring wide eyed at the dark water below, his tired mind not easily coming to grips with how the trail could have led him to this.
Finally though, Ahote's senses came back to him, and he put his nose to the ground and followed the scent of the pack to the narrow ice bridge. Just on this side, there were two hollows in the snow filled with the scent of his alpha and her keeper, still fresh and not blown over. The sight gave him hope, and he looked to the bridge. The wind-swept icy surface is a harrowing enough thought for any wolf, and Ahote had none of the advantage of good advice from Resin. To be so close to being reunited, and yet faced with such an impassible obstacle was maddening. He paced back and forth in front of the expanse, whining as he tried to build up the nerve to cross. After much indecision, he finally made up his mind to get it over with as quick as possible. Ahote backed up far enough to get a good running start, and sprinted towards the ice bridge to leap onto it at full speed. Unfortunately, with all the use yesterday, the bridge was already stressed, and he was met with a mighty crack as soon as his feet touched. He ran like the devil himself was chasing him, and the bridge denigrated beneath is feet. Soon, he found himself scrambling across an open sky of falling boulders and sliding ice. The only thing that saved him is the speed he had managed to build up, and he leapt across the rest of the gap, crashing into the far side with just his front claws holding him up.
Uncontrolled as his flight was, Ahote smashed into the top of the cliff face, jamming his chin into the rock-hard ice so hard that the clacking of his teeth made him see stars. Digging in, he managed to hold on to consciousness long enough that his back feet found purchase in the jagged edge and he pulled himself up. Gasping for breath, he swayed on his feet, the world seeming to spin about him all willy-nilly. Yet, he had gone too far, come too close to give up now, and as soon as he could walk, he followed the trail of the pack onward.
In about a half hour, his mind finally cleared, and Ahote began to see actual prints in the snow. Ones that had not been covered by the wind, or hollowed out by sun. Brimming over with hope, he slows to a stop and throws back his head, letting out a long howl tinged with desperation. At this point, all he wants is contact, in any form.
