Sins And Sorrows

[{}Destiny{}]

Prologue

The land was dark and beautiful. Around the starlit clearing lay the endless depths of a forest. Beautiful oak trees covered in leaves to the south. Dark , cold, haunted looking skeletons of trees to the north. Beautiful orange, yellow, red and honey colored leaves coated the trees that lay to the east. To the west were trees that had the young buds of flowers and leaves on their long spindly branches. Forever would they hold these qualities. Each corner of this endless forest was the home of a different season. A different pack of deceased wolven creatures. The clearing had no bottom near the center. Any wolven being who stood there would be floating on space. Then in the center of it all was a small crystal pool. The glimmering water which was held in it’s bottomless depths was a deep mystical violet. This. This was the place of legends. Or was it? For now. All was still.

The ample form of a dame emerged from the northern forest. The pelt which had been be stowed upon her was one of gorgeous silken snow. So breathtaking was she. Movements were precise and elegant. Never faltering or miss placing a paw step. Long banner flowed be hind her form as it glided across the clearing. Eyes of an icy aqua seemed to know all and see all. Never leaving the forms of the three hombre which sat ahead. Impatiently awaiting her arrival. Behind her, dark, cold, hateful eyes glimmered in the shadows of the dark forest. Finally the dame reached her place at the northern corner of the mystical violet pool. Paws stood on space. This was Vendetta , the goddess of Winter.

The wolf nearest Vendetta was a smaller hombre. Smaller than the dame at any rate. Of course the wolf had a temper and disliked greatly when he was up staged. Especially by dames. A low snarl rose from his throat. “Your late Vendetta.” This wolf had a medium build. No fat. Just muscle. The hombre’s pelt was one of a light greyish silver. Eyes of a burning and spiteful amber glared dangerously in Vendetta’s direction. Pearly white fangs bared as he furiously snarled at the larger and older dame. This wolf was the God of Spring. This was Demur.

A larger hombre glared calmly at Vendetta and Demur. This was a larger wolf. Around the size of the dame Vendetta. Form was well built. Pelt of a golden, reddish honey color rippled over pure muscle with even the slightest motion. Long , flowing tail flicked back and forth. This hombre was the calmer of the four. Always looking for the most tactful way of solving conflicts. The wolf preferred to keep blood shed to a minimum . “What is done is done.” Tone was calm and final. Almost as if to dare Demur or Vendetta to contradict him. The wolf was known as Romeos, the God of Autumn.

Finally the wolf sitting on the southern point of the pool decided to speak. “Romeos is correct . Vendetta, Demur, this is not the time for more of your bickering.” This was by far the wisest of the four. As well as the oldest. The hombre’s pelt was one of a deep dusky brown. The wolf was medium sized. Even smaller than Demur. Yet the others respected him. Eyes of a greyish brown flickered from one wolf to the next. Eyes that have seen many a thing. Beautiful and grotesque. The wolf was the God of Summer. Called Holloa .

Romeos glared sharply at Vendetta as the dame produced a slight snarl. Romeos knew all to well what the dame was like when she got angry. Vendetta’s temper was dangerous. If the dame got to angry she would do something that could affect the whole forest. The hombre turned to Holloa.. Dipping his head in respect to the older and wiser wolf. “Holloa has called this tryst.” Romeos dipped his head to Holloa. Signaling for the wise wolf to continue.

Holloa smiled at Romeos. “Yes. I did indeed call you together for this tryst.” The hombre turned his orbs upon each of the wolves. “I have seen the future.” The wise wolf paused his words for a moment. Allowing the other wolves to take in his words. It was rare for a wolf to be shown the future. Even a dead wolf. “If the golden dame does not see who she really is. The packs may very well cease to exist.”Tone was sad but truthful. If the golden dame did indeed not know of who she was. Then the packs and the wolves in them may very well cease to exist. Forever.

[{}Destiny{}]

Chapter 1

My delicate auburn paws collided with the ashen earth with such force that I could have sworn the ground howled in protest. The tracks I had left behind. They would easily be followed. If anybody felt the want to follow them that is. Of course, I knew no wolf would. No one, not even my own blood , would want me now. Not after what I had done. What fool could want a traitor? The now barren land sped by as my silken auburn paws danced across it. Elegant auburn banner trailed behind my form. The muscles on my limbs rippled beneath my golden pelt. If only. If only there was time for good byes. Even if no wolf cared to listen. It would have been a pleasing thing to be able to do. Of course, I knew I could not have been able to. If I had stayed there for so much as one more moment in time by elegant neck would have been grasped in the jaws of my love. To have my meaningless life put to an end. That is not something I am ready to give in to yet. Not yet anyway. The once oh so wonderful scent of my pack , what was once my pack, still flooded over me. In great anguish I let my paws drag me past the dying form of my young tyro. The small hombre’s eyes were dull with an over whelming pain. Something the young wolf should not have to feel. Not ever a pain such as the one which was finishing his life. It was my fault. I knew. At a broken howl of deep misery my golden auburn crown swung to the right. The sight horrified me. I had to pull my eyes of hazel away. I had to keep going. The cries of pain would never leave me. The cries of my dying pack mates would never leave me. I had caused this. Soon I would be leaving the territory of what was once my pack. Then I would be free. Yet, I would not. A traitor is never truly free. Nor is the being’s mind ever truly clear. Not ever again anyway. Not ever again.

I glanced around at my pack. Or at least, what was left of it. Of course, what was left of it was about five wolves. My dark ebony paws carried my bulky form around my pack mates. Well. To be truthful I was no where near the handsome prince many a dame wanted. I was not what I wanted to be. My form is around the same size as my-.As the wolf who I will despise forever more. My form is lean but I have some muscle. More than that of a dame at any rate. Pelt is of a dark ebony. Strangely enough I had not been harmed by the scorching flames. Not so much as a singed hair on my pelt. It was truly puzzling. Sorrowfully I pulled my eyes of deep brown from one dying pack mate to the next. Their forms had been tortured by the flames. The fire had just. Come. I knew it was Latoya’s fault. The way the dame had gazed at me. It was un-settling. Almost as if she had known that I would survive. Latoya had been un harmed. Like I. It was as if the dame had planned the fire. The death of her pack. No. Not as if. Latoya had planned it. Deep down I knew she had planned it. The d**n traitorous dame. I remembered it so clearly. It was as if I was re-living it. Again and again.

Silently the hombre padded across the camp. The playful yips of young pups entered his ears. For a moment he glanced in the direction of the little pups. Watching as they joyfully chased a moth around. Then he turned his head in a different direction. Watching as some young tyros conversed about the training they were working on and bragged about compliments from their advisors. The hombre remembered his days as a young tyro. When he had played joyfully with his friends and pack mates. Deep brown orbs flickered to a small group of older wolves. They were the seniors of his pack. Few wolves lived to be as old as they. Since he had been a pup his parents had taught him that older wolves were to be respected. There were only about three senior wolves. Two hombre and a dame. A medium sized wolf sat in front of a curtain of lichen. That dame was the pack’s alpha. No mate or pups had she. Sometimes he pitied the dame. The wolf seemed in capable of love. Of course she had no family. So he really could not blame her. Left to fend for herself as a young pup. The dame had been the packs omega when she first arrived. Eventually she had won her place as the alpha. He deeply respected her for her determination. Briskly he padded over to a senior and dropped the fat hare that he had been carrying at the wolf’s paws. It was freshly caught and large. Bowing his head in respect he backed away. Licking the scarlet blood of the animal from his jaws. For a moment he glanced back to see if she was eating it. A smile crossed his maw when he saw the senior sharing her meal with a small pup. Such kin ship in the pack. Suddenly his form stiffened. It was as if an icy claw was slicing through his heart. In disbelief he watched as flames appeared from no where. They ate away at the walls of the camp. Burning through dens. The un-earthly screams of pain filled his home. Wolves were falling to the earth around him. Dying from the fire. From the corner of his eye he caught sight of golden fur. Swiftly he swung his crown in its direction. Latoya stood in front of him. The way she looked at him. How she looked at him. It was her. Latoya had done this. How he knew he did not know. The hombre just knew. Furiously he leaped at the dame. Jaws snapped down on air. Eyes watched in dismay as her golden auburn form disappeared from the camp. Running at full speed. The wolf wanted to chase her. Track her down and demand and explanation. He could not. Ebony hombre was trapped. If he moved he would surely burn to death. The walls of fire encased him and he was sure he was done for.

The wolf had been so sure of his own death. No. Not even a singed hair on his pelt. Why? Paws stumbled over the body of a dead wolf. A dame, his mother. A snarl erupted from his throat as he saw what had become of her. A snarl directed at a fae who was long gone.

The charred ashen earth that had been below my paws was gone. Now it was hard, cold stone that greeted them. The pack scent still flowed strongly. I was almost out. As soon as I passed the great fir tree. How far was that though. Should I not be able to see it by now? The stone had been under my paws for quite some time. The thing that disturbed me the most was the fact that even way out here the ground was covered in soot and ash from the fire. The dame had not wanted it to travel this far. Though the sad reality of it was, it had. A sudden realization struck her as she know knew why the fir tree had not been seen.. There it was. Charred ashes and embers crumpled to the stone. That tree had been there since the pack had first began. If the tree was dead. Then what had become of the pack? Were they really. All dead? Had she destroyed everything that she had held dear by trying to save what she held closest to her heart? Either way she had neither of them now. Never again would she have a family. A pack. A home. A love. The femme did not deserve any of these things. Not after what she had done. No. Not after what she had done.