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Chapter 14: A Red Moon Rises

Evening began to slowly suck the light out of the den as the sun made its daily descent toward the western horizon and replaced it with thin shadows which settled in across their faces. Few words were exchanged between them since Humphrey finished telling his tale, and those which were revolved mainly around Jeriko asking the omega if he needed anything to eat or drink, or if he needed another dose of herbs to help alleviate his pain, and Humphrey respectfully declining each offer.

The herbs were a new experience for him, so his body was not accustomed to their introduction, and, while they worked wonders on his leg, they made his stomach feel queasy, so just the thought of anything to eat or drink was appalling to him. On top of the queasiness, the herbs also made him incredibly tired, but for some odd reason he just could not drift off regardless of how bad he wanted to, so he lied in a sort of daze and stared distantly at the mouth of the den as a ceaseless chain of thoughts rolled through his mind.

Though a few of these thoughts reflected on earlier days, most of them revolved around his new acquaintance. He wanted nothing more than to know his story, but he somehow could sense that Jeriko would remain tight-lipped about his past, so he was unsure if he should even ask. But then again, he would never get answers if he didn't ask, and besides, the silence was making the air stale.

He lifted his head from his paws and turned to the black wolf, who sensed the motion and turned as well.

"Everything okay?" he mouthed.

Humphrey nodded as he wrote.

'Yeah,' he scribed, 'I was just wondering if I could ask you a question.'

Jeriko read the message then nodded to the omega.

Humphrey nodded as well and erased what he had previously written, then took a moment to think about how he would word what it was that he was about to ask, and once he got it in his head he dug his claws into the dirt again.

'If you don't mind my saying so, you look like you've gone to Hell and back,' he wrote.

Jeriko's interest seemed to pique when he read this as it caused one of his eyebrows to arch.

'Is that right?' he wrote.

Humphrey lowered his eyes slightly, afraid of offending him, but he had already committed to this, so he was going to stick it out.

'Well, it's just that you have this look in your eyes,' Humphrey began again, 'that tells me that you've seen some stuff that you wish you hadn't.' A pause. 'Do you mind if I ask what these things were?'

Jeriko read the question and flattened his ears.

'I'm sorry, Humphrey,' he wrote in reply, 'but there are certain things that a wolf simply cannot say. I truly hope you understand.'

Humphrey, though disappointed, nodded. Though the fact that Jeriko wished to remain silent upset him, he respected the old wolf's wish to remain silent. After all, if whatever had happened to him was so bad that he wished not to speak of it, he did not want to force him to, so he resolved to let it go and hope that he would tell him in time. Though a part of him doubted that he ever would.

'Okay,' he wrote, then moved quickly to change the subject, 'well, then can you tell me where we are?'

Having run out of room for conversation, Jeriko erased the previous messages with his paw, then replied.

'The humans call it White Fish,' he wrote.

'You mean White Fish, Montana?' Humphrey asked.

Jeriko nodded.

Humphrey allowed it to sink in for a moment, then wrote again.

'Alright cool, so is this like a park, or are we out in unmarked land?'

'Unmarked,' Jeriko replied, 'so you've gotta watch your step.'

Humphrey glanced down at his wounded leg then moved his eyes up to Jeriko once more.

'Thanks for the heads up,' he wrote sarcastically.

This caused Jeriko to chuckle slightly. Then when it died away, silence filled the void once more.

'So how long do you think it'll take for my leg to heal?' Humphrey wrote after about half a minute.

Jeriko read the message and took a moment to think then lowered his paw to the dirt.

'Well, if it was just the bone that was damaged I would say that with that brace on you could probably use it after about three days, but since the trap messed up your Achilles, I'd say about two weeks until you can walk on it. After that, when you feel comfortable with removing the brace is up to you.'

Humphrey nodded and cleaned the slate.

'Okay, but I can still be mobile, right?' he asked, 'after all, I do have three other legs that work just fine.'

Jeriko nodded.

'That is up to you as well,' he replied, 'I just wouldn't recommend trying to hunt.'

'Thats alright,' he wrote dismissively, 'I can't hunt anyway.'

'Not at all?' Jeriko asked, surprised.

'Can't even catch a mouse.'

Jeriko lifted an eyebrow.

'Why didn't you ever learn?' he asked

'I'm an omega,' Humphrey replied plainly, 'I never needed to know how.'

Jeriko nodded slowly.

'Alright, so it sounds to me like I'm gonna have to teach you,' he wrote, 'because if you're going to be staying here, you're gonna have to pull your own weight.'

Humphrey nodded, though a part of him was slightly worried, because back where he came from, he never had to do a thing for himself. The alphas did the hunting while the omegas played and ate what was left. Work was something that had never crossed his mind.

Though looking back at who he was in Jasper, he almost felt ashamed of himself, because he had never wished to consider himself a leech, but there was no denying that he was now that he would actually have to fend for himself.

'Of course,' he wrote, 'I know I won't be of much use while I'm gimp, but I'll still help out with whatever I can. I'm tired of being a parasite.'

Jeriko read what Humphrey had written then nodded.

'Alright,' he wrote, 'since you will basically be den-bound for the next couple of days, you will be in charge of cleaning up the bones after we are done eating.'

'Sounds fair,' Humphrey wrote, 'anything else?'

'Just make sure that if you have to take a crap you do it around the back side of the den somewhere,' Jeriko replied, 'I don't want to have to smell it.'

'No worries there,' Humphrey wrote, nodding his head as he did so.

Jeriko nodded as well then turned toward the mouth of the den to find that most of the light was now gone.

'Alright, I'm gonna give you something to help you sleep,' he wrote, 'it will dehydrate you a bit, so you'll need to drink plenty of water when you wake up tomorrow, but it should ensure that you sleep soundly through the night.'

Humphrey nodded, though he was slightly hesitant, as he already felt sick as it was, but he hoped that sleep would help alleviate some of his illness, so he was not going to argue.

Jeriko nodded as well and produced another bowl with yet another herbal supplement inside and placed it down at Humphrey's paws.

"Drink up," he mouthed.

Humphrey eyed the thick, pasty liquid with hesitation. He just knew that if something looked like that it had to taste terrible, but if it put him to sleep, the taste would be worth it, so he leaned his head down and sucked it down his gullet with one quick sweep of his tongue.

To his great relief, though, the liquid actually had a bit of a sweet taste to it, so it went down without any trouble at all.

He did not have long to relish in the taste, though, because he felt himself growing faint almost immediately and before he could even realize what was happening, his head fell and he was asleep.

Jeriko studied him for a moment in the fading light then turned toward the wall and lied down for the night, though sleep would not come to him for another hour, as the question about his past had stirred up many old memories which he thought he had managed to bury, and these memories plagued his mind until finally he managed to lock them away again and drift off into sleep.

A&?

The moon which hung low over the park seemed to frown upon it in shame as it gazed down from its point in the sky. Though the guard set to keep watch over the border could not see the ghosts which stalked in the shadows, the moon saw, and the moon knew what she was about to witness, and knowing saddened her deeply. These creatures of the night were her children. She had watched over them and loved them all since the first time they had stepped out to bask in her glorious light, and now she would have to watch them fight and die beneath her feet. And it was for this reason that she was ashamed.

She saw no good reason for brothers to kill brothers, but in their mind, fratricide was the only option, as they no longer could see the brotherly bond which tied them together- only the frayed remains of that which had torn them apart.

She wished not to bear witness to the bloodshed which would stain her face red, but since she lacked the ability to stop them, she had no other choice but to weep as her children fell victim to the horrid curse of warfare.

The heavens above cried as glistening meteors fell like tears from the sky, lighting up the darkness briefly until they disintegrated somewhere in the atmosphere like the lives of those who remained in the park were as such- bright, and beautiful, yet chaotic and unpredictable, appearing over the earth in brilliant fury, and then, in an instant, gone like the fading promises of times long since passed. With the passage of one, so would come another to attempt to slice its mark into the face of the planet like so many before who had tried and failed, but eventually, like all things, the line of succession would end and as the last rock falls and turns to ash, all that would remain would be but the shattered remnants of a tale to be told in a world which was bettered indirectly by those who had fallen before.

Three wolves lingered like dark spirits in the shadows of the night, using the darkness as a cloak to hide their forms from sight as they snaked along the face of the cliff, stalking closer and closer to the border of their enemy's territory. They had waited for many hours for the sun to fall, and in those hours their thirst for blood had become so ravenous that they no longer cared to obey their orders to kill only the guard on duty. Tonight, they were going to do much, much more.

They each knew that they had to exercise caution while approaching, though, as the meteor shower above would occasionally become so active that it would light the forest for a few seconds, like a flash of lightning whilst the park was clutched in the teeth of a thunderstorm.

In these brief moments of brightness, the three wolves would throw themselves against the wall of the cliff, close their eyes and stand inert so as to minimize their chances of being spotted, and once the threat passed, they would continue on.

As they neared the stream, their measure of caution was on high, as now they would truly see if their attempts to mask their scents would be successful. They had a favorable, eastward wind, so they needed not to worry about being detected by the hyper-sensitive nose of the guard while they were at a distance, but they knew that at this range the wind would not matter, as they would be within a vicinity at which their scents could never evade detection.

Their motions became deliberately slower, and their eyes never left the guard. Each of them kept a strict log of his whereabouts and direction of attention as they readied to make the crossing, then, as they drew up to the water's edge, they all halted, waiting for the tan leader to initiate the distraction which would allow them all to cross.

He opened up his mouth and dropped into a paw which shook with excitement and lust, a golfball-sized pebble, then reared back and pitched it over the guard's head. It sailed for about thirty feet before reaching its arc, then plummeted down toward the stream and entered with a deep splash.

As if on cue, the guard's ears flashed into an erect attention, his head turned toward the direction from which he had heard the splash, and he rose to his paws, and it was at this moment that the leader made his leap.

On paws as light and quiet as a butterfly's wingbeat, he touched down onto Western soil, then threw himself against the wall as the spectacle from above set the park alight. The guard, seeing nothing out of the ordinary, scoffed and returned to his seated position, then released a sigh of boredom.

The leader watched him carefully, waiting for the light to dim out once more, then began to slowly creep toward the unsuspecting wolf, but as he took his fifth step, his paw fell on a twig, and before he could rectify his mistake, it snapped under his weight.

He grimaced upon hearing the noise and froze in place as the guard turned toward him, hoping that he would not be spotted, but when he saw the guard rise to his paws, he knew that his cover had been blown.

"Now," he called to the others, who, in a flash, leaped over the creek and fell into an attack formation at his side as they rushed their enemy.

The guard, realizing that he was outnumbered, howled for assistance, then turned and began to flee.

The leader of the assault leaped at the guard as he scrambled to get away and caught his flank with his claws, but before he could drag his enemy to the ground, and before the others could assist him, he was shaken off and rolled to the dirt.

He cursed and got to his feet then began to give chase, catching up to his comrades, then overtaking them so that he may regain his position.

The guard veered off to the left and leapt over a rock, presumedly attempting to slow them down enough to make an escape, and sensing no danger, the three followed.

They did not know that they had been set up until the leader landed on the other side of the rock and crashed through the ground, followed by the second. The third was just about to make his leap over the rock when he heard the sound of flesh being sliced and heard the horrible screams from his comrades. This caused him to slam his paws into the ground and skid to a halt, then, as quickly, but as carefully as he could, he placed his forepaws on the rock and peeked over to its other side.

At first all he saw was but a giant, black hole in the ground, out of which his friends' pained cries still belched, but when the show above cast light down upon the park, the hole was illuminated and he saw the terrible thing into which they had fallen.

They both lied close together, one on his stomach, the other on his side, in a pit of spikes which had pierced through all parts of their bodies. The tan leader, who lied impaled through his stomach, groaned softly one final time, sputtered blood out of his mouth, then died, but the other one who lied on his side suffered wounds which would take time to bring about his death. He trembled in the pit as several spikes protruded from his legs, his side, and shoulder, and as he lied there, he looked up to the sky above and saw the figure of his comrade on the lip of the hole above him.

"Mason," he choked weakly, as one of the spikes had punctured his lung, "help me."

Mason staggered back a few paces, as what he had just seen mortified him so deeply that he fell momentarily into shock. Tears stung his eyes as the pit fell into darkness yet again and he fell back onto his haunches, winded.

He knew that he had to help his comrades; even if they were dead, he knew that he had to rescue them from that horrible pit so that they at least had somebody to bury, but he had no idea how.

"Hold on, Nick," Mason replied in a dry, trembling voice as he pressed himself to his paws, "I'll get you out of there."

However, as he began to frantically think of a means of rescue, the heavens lit the earth again, and he found himself to be surrounded by four Western wolves. Fear caused his heart to bound about rapidly in his chest, and his instinct of survival told him to flee, but he would stand his ground and die on his paws, with honor, because he would never be able to face himself again if he were to abandon his brothers behind enemy lines. So he met them head on with a growl, then, without wasting a single moment to plan his next move, he leaped at the wolf closest to him.

He knew that he would be killed, and had accepted this fact as a warrior accepts death, but he knew that his death would not be in vain, as he set it in his mind that if he was going to die, he was going to take at least one of them with him.

His sudden attack took the Western wolves off guard, and they did not have the time required to recover from their initial shock before he leaped upon one of them and took him to the ground.

However, as soon as their comrade hit the floor, they came to life and flooded in upon him, ripping and snarling and snapping as they attempted to pry their enemy off of their friend.

But Mason was locked in deep, biting and ripping and tearing at the Western wolf's flesh with a fury and passion birthed by the hatred he felt for these masked monsters and the anger he felt in the wake of losing his friends, and he would not be removed until he bathed in his blood.

Teeth fell onto the back of his neck and pulled roughly back, lifting his head off of the Western wolf, but with a violent thrash, he pulled free and bit the wolf's face. Blood poured from the wounds left behind by his assailant's teeth, but this and the pain that followed he ignored as he continued to tear the wild beneath him apart.

Again teeth were taken to his neck, this time with greater force, but rather than make an attempt to pull him off, the wolf who held him yanked his head to the side.

Mason did not feel a thing when the Western wolf snapped his neck and severed his spinal cord. There was only a sudden void which fell over his eyes, and all of his violent motion was arrested as his body fell, landing on top of the wolf whom he had attacked.

The wolf who had broken Mason's neck rolled his body off of his friend and to the ground where he would lie until death took him, and quickly rolled his friend over onto his side so that he may look over his wounds and assist him if he could, but it was too late for him. He was already gone.

His body was badly beaten and gouged by Mason's claws, and, even though the attack lasted less than a minute, its ferocity was so great that his blood stained face was almost unrecognizable, and on the side of his neck, where the carotid artery bubbled close to the skin, were the three gashes which had taken his life.

"Jason," the grey wolf said softly as he stood over him.

The other two stood silently, staring at their fallen comrade, but they would spend no tears on his account. They were fighting a war, and death, while tragic, was an unavoidable presence which loomed over each of them like a guillotine poised to be dropped upon them without a moment's notice, and tears shed for fallen friends would do nothing but leave those who survive vulnerable. But his death would not be overlooked and quickly swept under the rug as death often is in times of war. It would give his brothers the strength to carry on and drive them to continue fighting for their home.

"Get the stretcher," the grey wolf instructed flatly, "we're bringing him home."

The others nodded.

"And what of them?" the guard asked, gesturing with his eyes to Mason and those in the pit.

The tan wolf stared down upon the body of Mason for a moment, considering their options, then shook his head.

"We'll send them home as well," he replied dryly.

This caused a slight uproar from his compatriots, which he quickly silenced with a glare.

"The dead must be honored," he said firmly, "regardless of the side for which they stand."

The others took resentment toward his decision, but they would not disobey their orders regardless of the fact that he was not a military official, because they all respected this individual, so they nodded, though they had to bite back at the bile which stirred in the bases of their throats. Without another word, they moved to collect the log onto which they would place the body of their fallen comrade, leaving the respected one alone with the dead.

He sighed and again allowed his eyes to drift down to the body of Jason to find that at last the blood had ceased to flow.

"I'm sorry that it had to be you," he said softly, using his paw to draw his friend's eyes closed, then drifted slowly back onto his haunches.

As he drew away, the heavens illuminated again, and he could swear that he saw a smile form on the lips of his deceased friend, and knew, as darkness befell them once more, that his spirit had moved on to a better place. He sought to take solace in this fact, but the truth of the matter was, he simply could not help but feel as though he was responsible. This young wolf was, not too long ago, a student of his, and what a character he was when he first arrived on the training grounds of the school. He was an energetic, spirited, lad with the strength of an alpha, but the heart of an omega. Given the option between the two he would have likely chosen the livelihood of the latter, but the idols who failed him demanded that he take up the role of responsibility and sentenced him to a life which he somehow knew held no future.

And somehow, the grey one knew it, too, but as the teacher, it was his responsibility to see that somehow, some way, all of his students graduated. It just sickened him that these tensions with the East had placed so many of the park's children in the ranks.

"Miles," the guard called, drawing the alpha's attention away from his former student and to a location behind him.

There he saw the two with the stretcher laid between them, and without giving them time to speak, he rose to his paws and turned to them.

"We'll start with them," he instructed, turning toward the pit, "fetch them from that horrible thing, then I want all of them brought back to the healer's den so they may be properly dressed to be sent back to their families."

The tan wolf who stood to the left of the guard scoffed.

"And just how is it that you expect us to return these bodies to the East?" she demanded, stepping forward, "they'll kill us as soon as we set foot near their borders."

"Even in times of war, people can find a momentary lapse of reason for the right cause," Miles replied, "do you think they would rather kill us and abandon their dead, or have them returned and allow us to walk?"

"I think you're missing the point, Miles," she argued, "there is no reason anymore."

A silence ensued as the two stared each other down, then finally the she-wolf spoke again.

"You can get yourself killed if you want to," she said bitterly as she moved to collect the log stretcher, "we're taking Jason home. Come on, Erik."

Erik felt indecision tear him asunder, but after a moment's thought, he decided to follow his female compatriot and collected his end of the stretcher.

"Damned be those who deliver themselves unto cowardice," Miles said, "for Death seeks most those who try to run from it."

Erik and the female ignored his words and arrived at Jason's side.

With quick, but gentle efficiency, they lowered the stretcher to the ground, collected an end of his body and lightly deposited it onto the log, then took their respected ends upon their backs and carried him off, leaving Miles alone with the corpses of the Eastern attackers.

He sighed and sat himself down then looked over to the body of Mason with remorse.

"I know it isn't your fault," he said regretfully, then cast his eyes over to the pit, so that he may address those who lied in its belly, "and nor is it yours."

He allowed his eyes to drift up to the sky and watched the meteors as they sailed through the night then released yet another sigh.

"I know you meant no harm," he continued, bringing his eyes down to Mason once more, "but we turned you into this, and I'm truly sorry."

He flattened his ears and got to his feet then moved off into the forest in search of another log which he could use to transport the bodies. Even if he had no help, he was going to send them home. How he just wished that he could have done more for them.

A&?

Tony sat in the back of his den and silently faced the wall. To his back, Garth lied quietly, pretending to be asleep, as he truly wished to not have to discuss this awful business with his father. Besides that, he worried about Lilly.

It made him sick to think that at any moment, she could become a target, and since his confession of love for her a couple days ago, his father lost all trust in him and took away any chance he may have had to guarantee her safety. Fearing betrayal, his father forbade him from going on missions, and kept him under close observation, so he was rendered powerless. He would just have to wait in great suspense while the platoons went over enemy lines and hope that upon their return her name did not come up in any of the lists of enemies eliminated. If he had known that she chose to leave before this horrid business began, he may have left already to search for her, but since he did not, he remained and prayed that he would not have to see her lied out before him amongst the dead. He didn't know if he could handle that.

Tony was anxious as well, as he could sense that something was not right. This operation was taking way too long. Scar and the others should have been back by now, so what was the hold up?

He drummed his tail tumultuously behind him, deeply considering the options, but a sudden commotion caught his ears and drew his attention out to the mouth of the den.

Garth's head shot up as well and the two both rose simultaneously to their paws then began to walk toward the entrance of the den.

Garth stepped back and allowed his father to go first then followed and found that a group of wolves was making haste for the creek.

Without a word, Tony took off toward the creek as well and Garth followed with many scenarios tugging at his imagination.

Tony arrived on the scene to find them gathered near the edge of the water, gasping and murmuring, and paused.

"What is the meaning of this?" he demanded, "what is going on?"

The chatter died and those who had gathered parted so he could see and as they stepped aside, his eyes fell upon the bodies of the wolves he had sent out to raid the West laid out neatly on the bank.

"No," he whispered in disbelief and began to approach them, "how?"

"There is a note to you, sir," a female informed, "next to Scar."

Tony brushed past her and found the note scratched into the dirt next to Scar's severely damaged body and felt bitterness swell up inside of him, as his initial thought was that it was meant to insult him, but as he began to read, his anger was replaced by confusion.

"Occupants of the East, it is with great regret that I deliver these bodies back to you in such horrid conditions, but know that they all died with honor and in death deserve only the highest marks of respect and esteem.

Miles."

"What does it say?" a curious bystander asked.

Tony sighed and used his paw to erase the message then turned to them.

"It is unimportant," he replied, "get them cleaned up and bury them. There is work to be done."

Upon completing his demands, he turned, brushed past Garth, who turned and began to follow, then headed back to his den where he could reflect upon what he had seen tonight and plan out his next move.