Silence stalked the dreary woods. The air hung heavy with sorrow till at last the sky surrendered its mournful tears. The wind -Winter’s last remaining strength- still tore unsympathetically into the vulnerable earth. -It was Spring without the promise of life.

    Thirteen eyes sat solemnly gazing at the hapless form of what had once been their leader and noble friend. There lie his striking jaw whose fangs had rent the flesh of prey; there lie his terrific paws who could outrun any foe; and there lay his blood -Cloud’s blood- which had once filled a warrior’s heart.

    But it was gone now, nothing more than a memory  to be stolen and carried off by the wind. That heart, once pure and full of passion, was gone; leaving only a hollow corpse.

    Thunder broke the relative silence, but again yielded to the melancholy rhythm of the rain. One wolf collapsed upon the ground, allowing his muzzle to bathe in a small stream of blood, and from within the darkness grew a howl born of sorrow and grief.