🌙 — Phoenix

Phoenix.

It was a name she'd chosen for herself. After all, it isn't like it wasn't accurate. Her old name is long gone, banished to the abyssal recesses of the mind where all forgotten memories rest after they die.

It'd been a pleasant summer afternoon. She'd been born into a small pack as a hunter. Nothing more, nothing less. She quite enjoyed her job: the wind battering her face as she ran, the freedom to run as she pleased, the satisfying thrill of the chase... Nothing beat it. Little did she know, her life would be turned right on her head.

All it took was a careless human, and a match. The entire forest erupted into smog and flame, wisps of ash and cinder dancing in the poisoned air as though to taunt her. Her pack was gone, too, and Phoenix tried to howl. She howled until her throat gave out and the smoke filled her lungs. But nothing could be heard over the snap of burning timbers. Whether her pack fled before she could reach them, or died trying, it mattered no more. She had to leave.

And leave she did. Well, tried to. She'd made it a good distance before the smoke overtook her, and she collapsed onto the ground, ashes clinging to her pelt like frost in a snowstorm.

She almost died. She expected to die; a martyr of some stupid human's careless actions. Next thing she knew, she was being hauled out by the scruff of her neck by an all-too-familiar wolf: Yew. Yew hadn't been a hunter. They hadn't even interacted much; Yew was a pupsitter, and puppies weren't really Phoenix's thing. But Phoenix was simply glad to see a familiar face... until Yew broke the news to her.

Phoenix's face dropped. All of them; every pup, adolescent, hunter, scout, herbalist... they were all gone. Yew had counted every lifeless body in that den, expressions still screwed in agony as the smoke claimed them. Yew and Phoenix only survived because they didn't follow them. Whether fate had been guiding them that day, or if it were simply intuition, neither wolf knew. All they could think was how painfully alone they were at this moment, with only each other to rely on. They spent many months like this, learning to hunt and forage by themselves. If those months did anything, it certainly brought them closer.

To say the experience changed Phoenix would be... quite the understatement. A formerly joyous, happy wolf turned stony, quiet and cold. No longer did the hunt bring her as much joy as it did in her younger years. It became a chore. Something to keep herself and her pack alive. Nothing more, nothing less.

She's still a brilliant leader, despite the countless hardships she and her now-mate had gone through. She's fair and strong in the face of the most desperate hardships. Her chosen heir, Dawn, has big pawprints to fill...

--

It was a clear, summer night. Birds chirped overhead, filling Phoenix's ears with their final songs before they'd return to their roosts. The old leader had an eventful day today, making her daily rounds in the tundra, gathering food... While she'd been out, Phoenix had encountered a rather tough horse. Determinedly, she went after it, and managed to bring it down. But the horse had kicked her hard in the side. Since then, pain pulsed mercilessly where the hooves had struck her, and she'd rushed to the herbalist in a sorry state, limping and light-headed.

Shinku had given her as much healing salves as she could spare, and while Phoenix no longer felt lightheaded, every movement she made still sent waves of pain through her entire body. It was clear that Phoenix was no longer the young, spry wolf she'd once been.

As she gazed out into the night sky, the stars twinkled overhead. She felt... serene. Phoenix took a deep breath of the cool air, and for the first time since that afternoon, the pain in her side relented, allowing her to take in a full breath. Warm, comforting tendrils of darkness tugged at her limbs, dancing in her peripheral. Was this it? Was this the end?

Phoenix was not scared. As she closed her eyes, her mind swam with memories of her life. The warm, comforting scent of milk filled her nostrils as she remembered her mother, curled lovingly around her. Then, wind assailing her ears and tugging at her thick pelt as her legs thrummed against the ground, in pursuit of a large bull elk. Her mouth began to water as she plunged her teeth into the creature's leg while her party distracted it. Her mind whisked to the memory of seeing Yew for the first time since the fire... her beloved Yew... and then, to her first litter of pups. Two tiny lives, Goshawk and Pigeon. Phoenix's entire world laid at her belly that day, whimpering and nursing.

Finally, her mind went dark, and the scent of her packmates filled her nostrils. She could hear them, speaking in yips and barks she couldn't understand. Everything felt so, so distant... But she was not afraid. Faintly, she felt a pair of wet noses press into her side, and she wished desperately to comfort her daughters one last time. But that was a path they would have to walk alone.

The voices faded as her last tendrils of conscience ceased. Her duty was fulfilled. She had done well.