His brother bared teeth that dripped in envy and mixed with love and longing as he stared into the empty shadows remembering the taste of the hunt...
His fading eyes spoke passionately of younger days and shone their final hint of red...
Spoke of how he would run with the urban packs and stalk the streets with pride...
Visions of barren landscapes and waterfalls, of mossy groves that bordered the outskirts of deserted cities and overgrown streets, lined with golden oak and smashed up cars...
the smell of his many lovers as they returned howling in triumph from their war parties... the nights of bathing in the hot springs of the highlands to clean their dirt and sweat stained fur...
the taste of power earned and the undying respect of the pack.
"it is up to you brother" Nethergale snarled...
"my breathe draws short and death whispers my name, our parents call me to the final hunt... but our story must be told.... only you can....."
the blood trickled from the spear wound... it mixed with pain and respect for his younger brother.. it glimmered in the moonlight and ran to the forest floor.... the flowers drank and sang..
a night that went too far... a thirst that went too deep... a jealousy that needn't be...
"do not stray from the pack brother. ... you must....wear our family crest with pride... Echo... my brothh.... sho.....w.. theee....mhhhh"
He exhaled deep and heavy... the steam lit the air and twisted, it mingled with the southern winds as they grasped his final breath and took it for the last time, dancing on the swirling currents of the eternal night..
Echo fed the earth his hands and offered their forest home his older brothers blood... once the trees had had their fill he stood.... he stood there with Nethergale, the last of his brothers... dead upon the ground....
the hairs on his neck stood on end and glistened in the rising dawn...
it was his turn now....