Nowhere, but Hell Remains

[Feather]

Caked blood froze still in it's merciless rivers trailing from her muzzle, that had previously threathened to seemingly drain out her very soul. The air seemed to drop by the degrees and turn the nasiating smell and feel permentant, just another burden in this world of mass hate. Was she even alive? It was doubtful, for she felt as if she feel short of Hell on her way down.

Not only was she dying from the crimson stained trail that marked her every footstep and heavy labored drag, but she felt on the edge of oblivian, in an icebox gasping for lost breath. It stug her lungs like swarms of yellow jackets, and no words, nor voice came to sing out her sorrow into the already mourning winds.

Towering trees at least kept some of the turbulent whips from her newly sliced skin. Shards of metal were lodged deep into her muscle, something that would leave the tissue permently damaged. If she wasn't already deceased, lost into the spiritual world of enternity, then there was no way she would escape from that destiny.

Anything soon anyways.

Losing her last stamina of the she-wolf's legended endurance, she dragged herself into some starved vegitation on the ground. She lay exhausted, begging for the air to keep her heart continuing those vitial beats and praying for death to take her away peacefully.

To another, she was dead. Barely inches of pelt remained, the rest, steaming muscle ripped from two-leg creation. A helicopter. On her face was nothing, but singed fur and cut after slash in her delicate face.

Her emrald eyes held a silent plead for help.

[Sunchaser]

(bringing in T'kaya so that she can heal her before Ardent comes in later on. If that is okay.)

T'kaya moved through the snow, loving the feeling of the coldness on her fur. She soon entered what was known as the Dark Forest. White agianst the snow she pulls up to a stop as something caught her eye, that was not snow or part of the forest. Her senses came alert as she took in the newly found smell. She discected it from the cold snows smell and the smells of the forest. ~Blood~

The female moved slowly over to the crimson stain. Her head was lowered and ears pinned back. Somthing was not right in the forest she roamed often. Twin towers perk as they try to catch sounds of somthing that was not there before. It smelled of dog and somthign else that she could not place.

Tail curled itself before she followed the blood trail. She heard a crash, of somthing falling into the snow. She lifted her head and snount before she raced, following the smell of blood, the unkown and a creeping death.

Blue eyes sparkle and soon she comes upon the scene of the dog, smoke around them. She coughed before grabbing hold of the one that was barley alive and pulling her away from what was causing the smoke, and what had started to burn. It was a good thing nothing alive was around the human contraption or the whole forest would be ablaze in a moment.

The female heaved and was soon in a drier spot, not among smoke or fire, and the snow had fallen on the trees, making it like a type of plain. The spot was only big enough for the two but that was all she needed. She nudged the female hoping to wake her up. She looked around. She had learned some Medicine herbs and soon saw spider webs. Good thing that they seemed old, but not so old as to not hold together. She used a paw and grabed a little bit of it.

She made the web into a ball before she grabbed some of the snow off the branches. She then started to use the snow that was melting and clean the females wounds. She saw the herbs she needed and pressed them into teh different wounds. For some reason the patch she had chosen was filled with all sorts of herbs and medicnial items. She pressed the cob webs hard onto the different cuts and what not.

Then she sat back and waited for the female to awaken.

[Feather]

There was no smell that seemed heavenly, or would at least bring her comfort. Smoke clouded around her, filling her lungs with it's deadly gases. It hung around her, as each paining and stained breath she took, it brought her closer to her grave.

A slow cascading drip feel on to her raw, bleeding and painfully exposed muscle. The water droplet skidded across her pelt, dragging the blood and searing pain down her side, were it joined onto the pool below her.

So this is what it's like to die. . .?

That one thought kept bolting across her mind. Would she really die? So soon? Never to feel a lover caress over her body. Never to bare cubs? Never to lead a pack into battle, or feel the cold sunlight kiss her face. . .?

Somehow she knew that this wasn't the way to die. Through all her pain and helplessness, she was giving up anyway. Anyone in their right mind would read the fire, smoke, and two-leg scent as a mark of danger. Nobody would dare cross over this dead landscape.

Or help a burning dog reach heaven.

Soon Sirian found it even painful to think. She wondered were the others were. All of them; the only family she had ever known. Probably lost already to Hades they were. Those few weren't of much stamina holders, nor had any strength, just some lazy cowards born into a world of ease.

She had loved them anyways.

Now, they were gone. . . Just as her eyelids began to close, sealing the connection between life and death, waiting for the cold to enclose her. . . .

Sirian was knocked out unconcious when she was dragged away unknowingly from her murky death bed. Left behind were dying strips of her pelt, leaving but the fur on her belly, chest, hips, and some scarse scruff to keep her from freezing. Her own body was saving her from bleeding to death, not concerned with keeping her warm. It would be the cold to kill her first if anything.

The ice sharp waters felt like they were hitting her with a violent slap, even though they calmly trickled over her pelt. What really awakened her was the alien scent, and the cobwebs slicing over her muscle, bringing complaints from all of her senses.

One eyelid cautiously rolled back, taking in the female before her. She sat up, looking with a strange expression at Sirian. It was not hostile, nor was it hungry and thieving.

Still, it was untrusted. Though she needed this one helper if she were to even think about dawn cracking over the horizon tommorrow.

"Warmth of others. . . Cave for dry. . . Need. . ."

Her voice faded out with a tired gasp. Then a black wave slammed againist her. . . She slid into the world of darkness once again.

[/*/T'kaya\*\]

T'kaya had no idea what to make of the female. Instead she gave her a herb for helping the female tosleep. Slowly she started to work on teh others wounds, trying to work on teh others wounds. There was not much that she could do sadly. She started to apply the spiderswebs and then went and found even more. The female was in horindous shape. However when T'kaya felt she was safe to move the whtie bodice of the female heaved as she half-dragged, half-carried Sirian to a cave that was near by.

T'kaya sighed as she looked down at the form of the female. She chuckled to herself before she went and got some moss that was on the wall. Then she trotted off in search of water, she did not have to go far, for there was a puddle right outside the cave. She soaked the moss before going back inside and waiting for the other to get better. She moved till she was touching, so to give the other some warmth.

[~*Sirian*~ (Feather)]

Although she could see nothing, but ebony, her body felt as if it was engulfed in flames. They scorched across her pelt, and left her in bloody tears. Dying. .Dying. . She knew she was. In fact, she had to be. It was the only real reason for such pain. .

And yet, she felt oddly at peace. Nothing blasted in her sensitive ears, and smoke no longer poisioned the atmosphere. It was almost lovely, other than the insane pain. No tears fell from her ears, for she was tough, and that wouldn't cut it. Silently in her head she prayed to live, for a vain nerve lay in her head.

Why was she any better? She witnessed their deaths, laid eyes upon the roasting carcasses of her previous family, her friends, her lovers. They all died, and yet, here she was. A tainted, bloody muscle staining pearl snow in which made her death bed. Still, she didn't want to die. She had a purpose. She was beautiful. She could thrive.

And that's what she would do. She would fight, give every last sense and energy into pure fight, and blast it upon the creeping Hell. The sins would blast away, and she would remain her usual self. Stubborn, intelligent, beautiful, dominant, stunning. .

A sliver of warmth kissed her flesh, sending a quiver of onyx hurt through her nerves. Her eyes fluttered grogily open, wiping away the forming glaze. Her mouth ran dry, just like her shredded bodice. A smile appeared at the corner of her maw;

She would live.

"Th-Thankssss. . . "

Her eyes rested upon the figure of her savior. There was almost nothing there; just a pale, outlined ghostly shape. Until, of course, you saw the piercing aquamarine gaze. She was a beautiful fem, very young and purified.

Forever would she carry Sirian's debt.