Everything was dark by now, both surrounding the large, limping shadow in the forest, and dark within in her mind. Pain coursed through her entire being, something the shaggy female never thought possible. It wasn't just physical pain, either, it was heart wrenching that Denali, now much bigger when she last saw him, came upon the scene. In a way, he had saved her life, and so did the gray female on a horse, but it pained the hulking pup-sitter for a dear friend, still young, to see such a catastrophe. Every time Malachi took a step deeper into the forest, and away from the borders of Crimson Dreams, she felt hot blood from her back leg pool onto the earth, and all mother nature did was soak it in, embracing both life and death as she always did.
But she knew she had to get away from there, as much as it meant having to leave Denali. The black female... was his mother, the alpha.. briefly she shut her honey eyes, as if wishing all this pain and anguish away. Fresh tears began to streak down her cheeks, which dripped down into the open wound at her chest. Why did they attack her like that? Did the alpha female really think she would hurt Denali? Or anyone, for that matter? As Mala stood there, red blood staining her shaggy coat, she came to the realization that she was a loner. And always would be.
Why, though..? She was just a lone wolf, truly seeking a home since she was banished from the Mi'kmaq tribe. Her breath was shallow, both from the wound at the base of her neck and the large tears that fell onto her massive paws. Mala didn't think she was so different, and her mother always told her that she was special... that other wolves would overlook her size, her rounded ears, and her stubby tail. Was that why the other wolves attacked her? For being different? A brief moment swept through the tremendous female, wishing she didn't look different, but she did not have the strength to be angry or lash out at herself.
"Hhhhnnnnngggg!" She let the cry burst forth, letting the forest and all within truly know of her anguish. With that last amount of power, Malachi had to lay down, the pain in her leg and throat being too much to bear. The scent of the earth smelled like blood, as she settled onto a slightly wet patch of dirt, surrounded by snow. It looked like a horrific scene, the moon shining in amongst the shadow of the trees, as the shaggy female lay there, nearly accepting her life to be taken from her that very night. Mala's breathing became raspy against the cold air, stinging her lungs further. All she could do was hope... hope someone would find her. An owl, the messenger of death itself, hooted not far away, its eyes as bright as the moon looking down from its perch.
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