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The Blood War

Chapter nine

There was no fear in the eyes that Bone found himself staring into. Swirling, dark pools of rage, tainted by pain; but not a hint of fear as she stared into the face of murder.

His breathing came heavy in his chest, rattling his throat and billowing from his slavering jaws. His sides heaved, the curve of his ribcage shuddering as he panted, the fur of his chest clumped by still-fresh blood, his paws and jawline stained with scarlet liquid. The gash along her neck, fleshed-out and raw, was oozing blood, rivulets parting her previously-neat fur.

“You… you killed Scavenger,” she said in a strangled voice, lips curling upward as she spoke. “You murdered her.”

Bone blinked his weary blue eyes, vision faltering momentarily as he dipped out of his sense of the world. “Who…” he said slowly, as the wolves all around them shifted, backing away slowly, “…who is Scavenger?”

Rage burned brighter in her eyes, snout creasing as she snarled. “You don’t even remember her,” she choked out, her voice full of hate and malice. “You took her life and you don’t even remember.”

An image burned into his head, flashing visible and then gone as he made a mental connection. His mind, reaching out with groping paws, took hold of hers and intertwined into her thoughts. The picture, wavering in and out repeatedly before growing clearer, was of a young, slender coyote, her eyes round and brown, her fur light. Memory seethed into his head; yes, he had killed her. He had ripped her throat from her body… and eaten her corpse.

“I remember her,” he whispered, shoulders sinking as the temporary rage that had instilled him drained out of his muscles. “I remember the look on her face when she saw me, and the cry of fear… I remember…” Bone slowly turned his head, scanning the pack around them. So full of fear, eyes burning in terror and struggling to stay brave.

He looked back to the young coywolf in front of him, who lifted herself up in attempt to stay tall in contrast to his hulking frame, with the rage of a million suns burning in her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered in a voice that shook the air. “I’m sorry.” He turned slowly, wincing on old paws, before bursting into a sprint, leaping over the corpse of Stormwind, and fleeing the wolf pack and the bloody clearing.

- President Loki

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