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Mordekai stood over Kage's sleeping form, and simply stared down at him in disbelief. The gathered ShadowPelts had, until now, remained silent, partially from respect for the dead, but mostly from sheer shock. The shock was beginning to wear off now, and murmurs began circulating the camp.

Not a real victory...

He cheated...

That counts, the chief said it did...

Sand? A low blow if ever there was one...

He's a runt. It shouldn't matter how he won, he still won...

There will be blood for this. We cannot allow him to...

The whispers continued to grow, both in volume and in anger, but Mordekai remained oblivious to the encroaching danger as he stared in deep thought. Whispers became arguments, and blows were traded, until it seemed that a fight was inevitable. Sides were taken, lines were drawn, and loyalties were declared before the noise grew enough to distract him from Kage's sleeping form. Around him and the arena, two dozen of his most loyal friends and hunters had gathered, facing outwards. They stood silent, crouched and ready, while the rest of the ShadowPelts looked forwards in growing anger.

"Stop. What is the meaning of this?" Mordekai's voice rang out over the crowd, and was answered immediately.

"The Runt cheated! He broke the rules of honorable combat. He should be put to death!" Murmurs of agreement spread through the throng, and another voice spoke.

"He dared to spill the blood of Saccularius! We cannot allow such treachery to go unpunished!" The loyal few remained in their defensive positions as the crowd slowly worked itself into a fervor. Mordekai had known something like this would happen, but he'd thought he still had some time.

"He's a Liar and a Cheat! We should,"

"ENOUGH." The anger evident in their chieftain's voice silenced them, if only temporarily. He was backed into a corner, and he only saw one way out. "One of our own has died, and all you can think of is further bloodshed? Saccularius was a good wolf, but he willingly stepped into a fight to the death on behalf of his clan. We must hold a celebration, to honor his life and his passing. Then, we shall deal with this upstart runt."

It didn't solve anything, but at that point he was content with simply buying time. The crowd still looked on with, masked by their anger, but they accepted his answer and began to disperse. The two dozen who'd formed a defensive circle remained until the last of the discontented onlookers had departed, to begin preparations for Saccularius's funeral. They made a narrow gap in their line so two of the calmer wolves could retrieve the body, but other than that they remained on edge. Only once they were sure the immediate danger has passed did they relax. They did not disperse though, and instead turned to regard Mordekai. A shapely female who walked with confidence made her way from the outer ring made her way towards Mordekai in the center. She knelt by Kage and traced a claw carefully over his bloodstained fur.

"Mordekai, you cannot truly mean to kill the boy. He's no more than a pup, younger even than our children, and a runt no less. He should be congratulated for accomplishing such a feat, not murdered, and I don't care if he's from another clan."

Her fur was a golden brown, standing out in sharp contrast to the ShadowPelt grey, marking her as an outsider. She'd been given to Mordecai in an arranged mating, a bargaining chip to help seal a border dispute between the Shadow Pelts and their southern neighbors, the Sun Runners. Mordekai hadn't been too happy with the idea of declaring a complete stranger to be his life mate, but he'd gone ahead with it for the sake of his precious peace. He'd been surprised when he fell in love with her anyways; she was a trickster, fast to make a joke, and she was the first to laugh at someone else's, even if she was the punch line. She'd won over both Mordekai and most of the clan with her easy smile and natural charm.

"Curatrix, my love, you know I would never do such a thing. You saw the clan out there, if I did anything less than promise his death, they'd have attacked us then and there. Our hunters are blind, discontent with a war chief who brings no war. Saccularius has been building support against me for a long time, and I'm sure he meant to challenge me for the title of Chieftain soon. The fact that he's dead now only makes things worse. They'll make a martyr of him. Mark my words, I'll not remain chief long."

"Would they really be so bold?"

"Look around, and tell me yourself how many remain loyal to me."

His hunters glanced at each other uneasily, and it became painfully evident how few of them stood gathered there. They were the ones who still understood honor. They were the ones who still understood loyalty. If Mordekai gave the word, they would die for him, and they would die to defend their clan's honor by defending Kage, and though they would die before admit the truth, they too were secretly discontent with peace.

"Then what will we do?"

Mordekai brooded for several painful seconds before answering.

"I don't know." It was not the voice of a man who grudgingly admitted defeat. It was not the voice of a man in deep contemplation. It was not the voice of a man who conceded a loss with hope of later victory. It was the voice of a man who was about to watch everything he'd worked for spin out of control, and he could do nothing to stop it. The men and women gathered also fell into despair. If their chief would not fight, then what hope did they have? Curatrix hesitated but for a moment before she sprang into action.

"All of you, go now to your dwellings. Pack everything you hold dear, but be sure your packs are light enough that you may still run with the wind. Pasche, Ovis, carry young Kage to the Chieftain's tent, then join the rest. All of you, see if you can hide your packs somewhere to the northwest. When you have finished, mark your faces with a single stripe of red paint across your eye, then join the rest of the clan in preparation."

They looked to Mordekai, who was uncharacteristically silent. For all the time they'd known him, he'd been bold, reckless even, never showing even a hint of indecision. As they watched, Mordekai's eyes rolled up into the back of his head and he fainted. Pasche, who was closest to him, only barely managed to catch him as he collapsed. He put his ear close to the chief's frantically whispering lips and nodded his head.

"He is afflicted with a vision, Huntress. 'Tis an ill omen that Belluosus should speak to him at a time like this."

"Then carry out my commands. Rapere, help me carry him to our tipi."

The assembled hunters turned back to Curatrix and knelt, right knee down, right fist in the sand, left hand on right shoulder. "Yes Huntress."

Mortals are ill suited to the essence of chaos, and the whirlwind that passed through Mordekai's mind threatened to tear him apart. The vision was chaotic, places and voices spiraled through his mind without any obvious relevance. Mordekai tried to focus, tried to grasp a single image long enough to make sense of it, but every effort to still the madness brought only further pain and chaos, until he surrendered himself to the death he felt was inevitable. Once he stopped trying to concentrate, the images burned faster and faster, sounds and voices exclaiming for brief instants before vanishing forever. As he watched, he began to see a pattern. Not in the images themselves, but in the backgrounds, in the shapes. As thousands of pictures danced through his mind, through them, the vaguest suggestion of a face appeared. The sounds too began to converge, growing sharper even as they smoothed together. Then, with a voice made from ten thousand fragments, Belluosus imitated speech.

FIND VENGANCE... PROTECT... HONOR... KHAEJIRAN IS... A GREAT WAR, HE DOES NOT... CHAOS. HE IS FILLED WITH MONSTERS, AND... EXTINCTION FOR ALL SPECIES.

Mordekai struggled to make sense of what he heard, but the thousands of individual sounds were not easily recognized as a whole.

"I don't understand! Can this boy's life really make such a difference? How can his life or death make a difference for... everything?!?"

DO NOT... BLINDED BY THE PAST... MOUNTAIN SAGE... FIND BETREYAL AT THE FEAST... GIVE HIM OVER TO THE LAND OF BONES...

Mordekai tried to ask another question, any question, but the prolonged exposure to the essence of chaos was eroding his mind. The sound devolved into white noise, a high, thin wail that grated on his ears. The visions became flashes, bright lights and deep shadows that pained his eyes. Soon, it became too much, and he blacked out.