It was a nice day for a walk. It was cold out, but not the bitter unrelenting cold of deep winter, and the sun shone in a flawless blue sky. The few inches of snow on the ground sparkled as if some generous god had sprinkled the earth with millions of tiny diamonds. The wolf that trod across this shimmering landscape seemed out of place with her pitch-black pelt that seemed to swallow all light. She wandered amongst the eroded gravestones, pausing every now and then to sniff at a rock or a patch of earth exposed. Her paws were broad and well adapted to walking in snow, but she still broke through the thin upper layer of ice that had formed on top of the actual snow, causing her gait to be strangely uneven.
Voron was deep in thought. The peace of the old human graveyard seemed to encourage reflection and remembrance. She imagined the countless skeletons beneath the earth listening intently to her every thought, glad for an intruder to break their endless slumber. They would probably be much intrigued by her thoughts, for she was remembering her past.
"Why does mother hate me?" the young wolf
asked her father, gazing up trustingly at his yellow eyes. She was too young to notice the sadness that now filled his usually knid eyes."She doesn't hate you darling. She hates herself... she doesn't know what to do, so she strikes out at everything. But she loves you dearly. Just give her time." The large grey wolf lowered his head sadly as he spoke, knowing that what he spoke wasn't exactly the truth. He didn't want to hurt his young daughter, but hoped that maybe one day - when she was older - she would understand why her mother acted as she did.
And Voron did understand now. Her mother had blamed her for Cheron's death. Even as a pup, a part of her had understood that, leading to the guilt that was so deeply ingrained in her. On that day, she had lost not only her beloved brother, but also her mother. It hurt, knowing that of she had been faster, smarter, she could have saved him. If she had been paying more attention, maybe her family would still be alive...
Snuffling half-heartedly at an old rabbit trail, the she-wolf made her way slowly around the huge Virgin Mary that dominated the place. Suddenly, she froze. With a paw half-raised to take a step and her muzzle close to the ground, she stared in utter shock at a form beside a large gravestone. Then all of a sudden she wasn't a serious young adult; she was a joyful
puppy again as she bounded forward, feeling overwhelmed by the joy and love that swept through her. Her ears were layer back and her tail wagging feircly as she greeted her brother, almost crying as the scent of him filled her nostrils. She licked his face franticaly, not noticing that his eyes were cold as ice and he didn't move at all. "Cheron, Cheron, you're alive!" Obviously not thinking yet, she continued to repeat his name as she sniffed
at his familier grey pelt.