01-24-2008, 11:14 PM
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Open to any well-wishers who want to keep bedside vigil for Phoenix, but this is mostly an introspective thread. Weak, helpless and prone—such was the status that Phoenix could not have afforded himself to be in since he was a blind, squirming pup. Ever since then, his father had tried to teach him to be strong and perfect, and life had molded him in much the same fashion after it had taken his father out of the picture. Even after reuniting with his own kind he could not allow himself to show a moment of weakness, especially after becoming Alpha. Yet now he lay in the pack den, trembling and totally unaware of the world around him. He was barely even conscious of how he had gotten into such a state—but he knew that the little girl, the member of his pack, was safe. That was all that mattered. Despite the odd shudder, Phoenix remained immobile in his seccui state. Sometimes he looked almost peaceful if not for the rapid movement of his eyelids. His mind, however, was a whirling maelstrom of memories as Phoenix struggled to maintain the spark of life within himself. He dreamed: *** He was a large pup, larger than any of his siblings. Papa said he might even grow up to be bigger than mama, and she was huge! Of course, Phoenix loved to lord this over his brothers and sister at first, which didn’t make mama happy at all. “Son,” she told him one day, “Just because you’re bigger, doesn’t make you better than anyone else. In fact, as the biggest it’s your job to watch after your siblings. Do you understand? He didn’t at first, but he nodded anyway, When mama used that tone he knew she was saying something important, and he better listen. But he stopped picking on his brothers and sister after that, except for the occasional prank he and Chicago would pull on their sister. But she was a gurl—she deserved it. ***
Mama and Papa and Chicago and the others were all gone. The brown pup was all alone in the world, which, as it turned out, was a very dangerous, scary place. Even the other canine, who’d called himself a coyote, was cruel and threatened to kill him. Phoenix didn’t want to die, even if he couldn’t think of a good reason to keep on living. He just… continued to fight to stay alive, out of instinct, maybe. Take today, for example. He could just as easily stop running and let the angry bear behind him eat him alive. But, for some, reason, the boy’s legs wouldn’t stop moving. Finally they did, however, right before leading him off a cliff and down a waterfall. Phoenix looked down into the abyss, then back at the tenacious bear. He had a choice between plummeting into a possible death and being eaten alive—some choice. Finally, however, Phoenix too a deep breath and jumped. He emerged from the waters not long after, cold and shaking but still alive and, for the time being, relatively safe again. |