Cedar

Cedar's Duty

The morning light filtered through the dense canopy, casting soft beams across the forest floor. The air was crisp, filled with the earthy scent of pine and damp leaves. Cedar, the dutiful wolf with silver eyes, walked with purpose through the underbrush, his white-cream and brown pelt blending with the shadows. His tail swayed slowly behind him as he moved, each step taken with care, every action intentional. As always, his thoughts were focused on the needs of the pack.

Cedar had always been the steady one. While others might get caught up in emotion or conflict, Cedar was the one who held the pack together with his quiet strength. His silver eyes always seemed to carry a sense of calm, and his composure was like a rock in a storm. Today, though, something felt different. There was a heaviness in the air, something that unsettled him.

He arrived at the clearing where he had been told to meet. Marbled, the pack's healer, was already there, his brown coat streaked with black patches, as always. Marbled looked up as Cedar approached, his trusting eyes soft but tired.

"Morning, Cedar," Marbled greeted, his voice warm but strained. "How are things holding up with the pack?"

"Stable for now," Cedar replied, though he could tell the healer wasn't entirely convinced. Marbled's gentle demeanor often betrayed the weight he carried as the one who healed both bodies and spirits.

"Good to hear." Marbled paused, his gaze drifting toward the edge of the clearing. "I've been treating a few wounds from some of the younger wolves who've gotten too ambitious during training. They'll heal, but it's been a lot lately."

Cedar's ears flicked in acknowledgment. "You're doing good work, Marbled. I can see it in the way the pack is holding together. But if you need help—"

"I'll manage," Marbled interrupted with a tired smile. "But I appreciate the offer, Cedar. You're always so dependable."

The sound of paws crunching the forest floor interrupted their conversation. Riftbound, the reliable black wolf with white claws and eyes, emerged from the trees, his usual quiet confidence surrounding him like a shield. Behind him trailed Rose Tiger, his black fur adorned with vivid red stripes, his malicious gaze taking in the surroundings.

Riftbound greeted Cedar with a nod. "I was told you might need help with the patrol today," he said, his voice steady as always. His gaze lingered on Marbled, who gave a weary smile in response.

"I could use some backup," Cedar said, his voice firm but not unkind. "There's been a lot of movement in the eastern woods lately. We'll need to make sure there's no threat to the pack."

Riftbound nodded in agreement. "I've got your back."

Rose Tiger, standing off to the side, scoffed. "Always the serious ones, aren't you two?" he drawled, his red-striped coat practically glowing in the early light. "You know, I don't see why we have to go on these stupid patrols anyway. Let the weaklings deal with it."

Cedar's silver eyes met Rose Tiger's with a quiet, unwavering gaze. "The pack's safety is not a joke, Rose Tiger," he said, his voice calm but carrying a weight of authority. "If you're here, you'll do your part, or you'll be sent back to help Marbled."

Rose Tiger's lips twitched into a sneer, but he didn't protest further. Instead, he walked to join the others as they began to move out.

As the group made their way into the forest, Cedar felt the familiar burden of responsibility settle onto his shoulders. He had always been the one who kept things steady, the one who held the pack together. But today, something nagged at him—a feeling that he wasn't doing enough. The pack was strong, but how much longer could they hold out against the world that threatened to tear them apart?

They arrived at the eastern edge of the territory by midday. The trees grew taller here, their trunks thicker, and the forest seemed more alive. The air was filled with the sounds of birds and small creatures, but there was an underlying tension that Cedar couldn't shake. He paused, lifting his head to scent the air, his silver eyes scanning the area.

"I don't like this," Cedar muttered under his breath. "There's something off about the land here."

Riftbound, standing beside him, narrowed his eyes and sniffed the air. "You're right," he agreed, his voice low. "There's something wrong. It's too quiet."

Before Cedar could respond, there was a rustling from the underbrush. In an instant, Tussle, the trusted older male wolf with blue eyes, emerged from the shadows, his fur ruffled from the thick brush. He was the first to speak.

"You weren't supposed to be here," Tussle said, his tone a mix of annoyance and concern. "This area's been off-limits for a reason."

Cedar's heart sank. He had known there was something unsettling about this part of the forest. "What's going on here, Tussle?" he asked, his voice sharp but measured.

Tussle hesitated, his eyes flickering to the ground. "There's been strange activity. I was just checking it out before it became a bigger problem." His eyes met Cedar's. "I didn't want to involve the rest of the pack yet."

"I'll take it from here," Cedar said firmly, stepping forward. "Thank you for your vigilance, Tussle. But now, it's up to the pack to handle it."

With a sharp nod, Tussle stepped aside, allowing Cedar, Riftbound, and the others to take charge.

The pack gathered, ready to face whatever lay ahead. Cedar stood at the forefront, his silver eyes shining with determination. Whatever the threat was, he would not allow it to endanger the pack. As always, he would do whatever it took to protect them.

But in that quiet moment, as the others prepared for what came next, Cedar couldn't help but feel the weight of his responsibility. The pack's safety was in his paws—no matter the cost.