04-01-2008, 05:37 PM
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It was something so terrible and unforeseen. Frankly, it wasn’t as if any of the wolves within Storm (or Bleeding Souls for that matter) could have expected anything of the sort. A raging fire tearing them from their home lands wasn’t exactly the most comforting thing to wake up to. Pilot, for one, didn’t think that he would be able to lead the pack to safety. He was entirely new to this whole leadership thing and it was terrifying knowing that their safety, and potentially their lives, rested in his hands.
He wasn’t sure where its origin had been or whether or not it was arson, but it was clearly obvious that the black smoke curling into the morning light was the result of fire. The morning sky which often times was colored in an array of light pastels was tainted with a fiery orange glow. The smell of smoke was thick on the air, and the distinct sound of crackling humus littered the surrounding area. The white wolf jumped to his feet, racing down along the river to make sure he could call out to the others of Storm. His voice seemed almost unfamiliar to him, uncharacteristically loud and deep. He called out in warning, telling all of the Storm wolves that it was urgent for them to head south immediately. He figured they could head down through the Moaning Wood, and if that too was smoldering with thick bouts of smoke, then they would just have to head south-west for the time being.
On four legs he could run much quicker than on two, and he raced as fast as he possibly had in his lifetime. Thoughts instantly went to Dierdre and Phoenix, who both were in predicaments, considering the former alpha was still ill and his mate was pregnant. He knew that first he would have to guide the pack to safety before he could even consider going to check on the status of the other lands. He hoped everything would turn out to be okay in the end. But with the intoxicating smell of carbon in the back of his throat, it was hard to make sense of much of anything except to just get out.