He felt... tired. Such an unusual feeling for him, who had spent his youngest months increasing his cardio and speed. He'd never been particularly strong, but he had been one of the fastest among the tribes. Every wolf met their limit, however, and three months on the run, with little time to rest, bathe or eat, he was feeling the strain coming on, slowing him down. He couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten, and his ribs were beginning to show. He wasn't sure how much further he could run, or how much longer he could hide.
Tongue lulling out the side of his mouth as he heaved for air, he pushed forward as the sounds of his pursuers kept a steady pace far behind. He heard their breathing, as labored as his own in trying to keep up with him, and if he hadn't been so terrified of being returned to that awful, dreaded place known as Camp Black, he would have found their dedication quite remarkable. Not many wolves could keep up with him, even on four legs. But if he was caught, he wouldn't have a chance in escaping their brute force.
After escaping his imprisonment, he'd zig-zagged his way mostly east and north before cutting south sharply, avoiding others at all costs and keeping a low profile in the mountains whenever possible. He'd been traveling through Gaspesia, he would later learn, looking for a meal among the plentiful critters and deer. Unfortunately, his deep hunger would continue to be left unsatisfied when he stumbled upon the two large thugs looking for potential profit. They'd recognized him by the 'KB' brand in his left haunch, and Lugo had be been forced to flee into Mt. Oromocto, hoping to lose them in the thick underbrush and steep earth similar to what Lugo had spent his puphood learning to traverse with ease.
The ballsy idiots had the nerve to follow him, barely slowing them down. There was a higher bounty for returning escaped slaves, and that must have driven them harder to catch him.
He'd heard the gentle dance of waves as he neared the coastline, knowing he'd have to make some kind of decision soon on how to handle this situation. He couldn't keep running like this, digging his own grave with every step, it would kill him. But maybe that wouldn't be so bad. He'd take death over going back to that torturous nightmare.
How long would it take to drown? He'd never wanted to try before now. Was it painful? Was there a less painful way to die?
He'd closed his eyes, felt his paws leave the earth as his body rolled through the air and then hit the ground hard. Weakly, he stumbled to his feet as fast as he could and trembled from head to toe, teeth barred and ears folded against the back of his head as he readied to bolt away or fight to the death. He was not going back there.
Touch me, he screamed shrilly, And lose a hand!!