It was stupid. He knew that. He knew that better than anyone. Axelle could take care of herself, but..... The growing feeling of dread had picked up since he had caught her scent. Itzal had been out letting Eztli hunt. Itzal hadn't decided if he was going to the pack meeting where they would hide out the storm. Itzal wasn't sure he would have been able to handle it. Eztli had been restless for the past few days and Itzal had no idea how long the pack would end up stuck in a cave together. If Itzal lost control while that happened, people would die. And he would be one of them. Itzal knew that he was a good fighter, but it wouldn't be him fighting. It would be Eztli, who, though skilled in his own way, would not stop until he was dead. And Him against most of the pack were not good odds for either Itzal or Eztli. So Itzal had gone out to let Eztli hunt, and if that calmed him, Itzal had planned to return and attend the pack meeting. That was that plan until he had caught Axelle's scent. She had no way of knowing that he was out hunting his own prey and it was by luck that he had happened upon her scent after taking control. Eztli had found and made his kill. The wolf laid a few hundred yards behind Itzal now. He would never have to endure the approaching storm.
The wind pushed against Itzal but the muscled male was heavy and had no problem pushing through the wind. Itzal wasn't sure what Axelle was doing out here but he was sure she was set on it. He hoped she realized what was coming. Itzal followed behind her, her scent getting stronger as he went. But it wasn't the only thing getting stronger. The weather was getting stronger as well. The rain started hard and only seemed to get harder. The drops hit Itzal and he felt the impact. It didn't hurt but it was uncomfortable. It was another few minutes before Itzal managed to scale part of the mountain, being careful not to set his paw in a spot made slick by the rain. By then her scent was fresh. Itzal looked around, trying to see through the screen the endless droplets of rain made. He thought he saw a figure about a dozen feet in front of him. "Axelle?" He called out, wondering if there was anyone else up here. Someone whose scent Itzal hadn't yet discovered. It was possible, since he had become so focused on Axelle's. But the figure looked like her from behind. If only he could see the coloration that would give her away. As he took another step towards it, he called out her name again. He looked up at the sky and swore. The black clouds had blotched out the sky completely and Itzal felt the shift in air pressure. The full meaning of it hit him and he swore again. They were out of time. The storm was upon them.
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