”Run, Zechariah. You must go.”

”But Fa-“

”I said GO!”

The Russian blue hued male hesitantly turned away, looking back at the massive, dark grey wolf growling and preparing to lunge at a dire-sized wolf towering over him. The saved wolf hesitated once more, getting a quick glimpse at all the destruction occurring around him, wolves his size being battered and slain by dire wolves, all blanketed in the dark fur of the shadows, only alight by the fire spreading on the arid turf, encompassing several corpses. The stench reeked in the male’s nose. His amber-honey eyes speckled with the blue of his gems – the only reason why these wolves were here was for his innate crystalline power – looked away from the sight as the dark grey wolf he knew so well was decapitated, and sprinted

His ears perked as the paws of, surely the dire wolf leader, began to pound towards him. The blue zircon male knew given the size difference, regardless of how fast he ran, the dire wolf would catch up. It was inevitable. So, he was left with little choice – submit to the dire wolves that needed his crystal’s essence, or, leave it up to whatever gods may help him as he ran towards the cliff’s edge.

He jumped.

And blacked out as his grey-blue body broke the water’s surface.

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The first thing he felt was warmth as he woke from unconsciousness, still keeping his eyes closed. This sensation was immediately followed by recognition of his fur – soaking wet and plastered to his sides, feeling much heavier than he would have expected. The distinct smell of wet, salty earth then wafted into his nostrils, flaring. If anyone were near him, this would be the first indication that he was alive. His whole body felt sore, even the crystals that were protruding from his joints. The pain meant he was still alive, and did not pass away from that oceanic route of escape. He’d been lucky to survive that plummet, let alone not be gobbled up by whatever ocean creatures may have been attracted to the glimmering of his blue zircon gems. How had he been able to breathe? As much as he was curious about the “how”s, he needed to acknowledge the fact that he could not lay here all day. His white tipped ears flicked at some movement he heard nearby before he let his eyes slowly open, shifting the muscles a bit in his forehead where a 4 pointed white star rested.

His gaze first landed on his maw, which had some brown splotches overtop the white fur that laid there. That explained the smell – it was mud. Zechariah never let himself left himself this unmaintained. A noise like a scoff came out of his maw as he reached up with his free paw and brush it off, noticing a little too late that he only just smeared even more mud on his maw, his normally white paw also being caked in mud. Instead of another scoff-like noise, Zechariah took a deep breath in, letting it out in the form of a sigh. His neck, tender like the rest of his body, lifted his head up to assess the rest of his body. Zech could have fainted at the sight, but it explained why his fur felt heavier than usual – clumps of mud were smeared across his Russian blue body, even his white tipped tail being covered with the salty, wet earth. Without a filter, Zech let out a loud groan of annoyance as he let his head plop back onto the marshlands. He knew the side he was laying on would be much dirtier, but he could not focus on that as he heard movement once again, this time being able to see the being it belonged to – another wolf. The Russian blue male swallowed his pride as he called out to this stranger, hoping they’d be friendly. ”Pardon me, but could I bother you to help me stand? My body’s feeling quite battered and bruised.” Zech could only pray this wolf was nothing like the ones he escaped from, but also that he was far enough away to no longer live in fear.

Actions & Words.