Rogue of the Deathland

The cool night air was still and crisp, no breeze disturbing the eerie silence that surrounded the barren lands. Only death inhabited these lands, nothing more. The stench that rose from scattered corpses should have been enough to warn off any sane being, yet the massive hellion that crossed such a wasteland was less than afraid. He knew that he could have easily caused as many deaths if the mood struck him, though knew this was someone else's doing. Or, perhaps every wolf that lay dead here was merely so weak it could not survive, despite how empty this place was. Fools... why would they stay here if they have no way to survive? he wondered, picking his way around the dead. He didn't care to have their filth and remains sullying his coat. He would be out of here as soon as possible, or so he hoped. Ahead, he could see forested land; hunger and thirst beckoned him toward it, and it seemed unclaimed. What a bonus.

Towering, obsidian hessian now stalked the forest, new scents flooding flared nostrils and other senses on high alert. It was not out of fear that his caution was born, but strategy. He had never been caught off-guard before, and he did not wish for that to happen, ever; he'd be put to shame if someone were to drop him after a surprise attack. But with his wits about him, he'd like to see anyone try. For now, however, he attempted to push battle to the back of his mind and settled with the idea of finding the things he desperately needed. He had been crossing this desert for what seemed too long now, and there was nothing edible, nor anything to quench one's thirst. Soon, the brute found himself staring down a large body of water. He immersed himself in it, finding that, after being baked in the unyielding sun for days, it was almost icy in comparison with his overheated body. Once quenched of his vicious thirst, and relieved of his fever, he meandered out of the pool.

Rarely did the ashen hessian ever feel weak and unmotivated, but after such a refreshing dip in the cool waters of this newly discovered lake, he felt that he couldn't take another step. "I will need to make up for this weakness later..." he muttered to himself, scowling in disgust. But his body made no effort to go out in search of food, nor to find shelter, instead falling to the ground comfortably. He grunted contentedly, his muscles loosening and body relaxing, something he rarely allowed himself. In fact, he could not remember a time he had ever done so. Still, his ears were alert, but his eyes did not wish to stay open. Yet, even fatigued, he could not stop his mind from roaming. In these lonely, hungry times, he wished for nothing more than to have his love beside him, yet he did not know where she was. He had left that beautiful place behind - his cave, his hot springs, the volcano, the forest below - and in doing so he had left her behind. What had caused him to make such a foolish decision? Why would he leave such a place?

"Why?" he suddenly snarled, jerking upright and snapping viciously at the air. He felt tense now, and angry. He could no longer sit still and relax. He pushed himself to his paws, feeling heavy with hunger, sleeplessness and remorse. Bellatrix had finally found him again, and he'd left her once more. He stood still, remembering the feeling of his heart melting and his knees weak. Only she could do it to him. He sighed heavily, then slashed the ground with a brawny forepaw. "No sense in wasting your time thinking about it," he whispered, "You brought this upon yourself you mindless fool." He had never been able to answer himself as to why he had left. All he could tell himself were that the wolves there were too weak, hardly evil at all. That much was true, but was that good enough reason to leave? It no longer seemed like it, and he would never forgive himself for such a foolish mistake. Still, he needed to survive, and he would not allow himself the comfort of death after what he'd done. You've hurt her again, abandoned her for the second time, he scolded himself relentlessly, You will not be allowed to end your suffering, it is what you deserve for this treachory.

Pounding into the woods, he took off after the first scent of prey he'd caught on to - opossum. A strange choice in a meal, but it was certainly more satisfying than a mere rabbit. He paused immediately when the ivory-pelted creature came into sight. It was near the base of a tall tree, and he knew they climbed well. He licked his chops, suddenly feeling his starved belly gnawing ravenously at his insides. Fiery, hateful eyes watched as the creature moved cautiously from the tree's safety, picking at the things among the ground. Finally it was far enough from the tree, and that's when Ash lunged. Powerful legs thrust him towards the possum, and a loud crack could be heard as he snapped his jaws down over the animal's neck. When he raised his head, the long-tailed creature hung limp from his jaws, and he took it back to the lakeside to devour it. Once the edge had been taken off his hunger, he allowed himself to rest. All the while, he hoped that she would find him again, and yet he doubted that she would ever bother after what he'd done...