3/31/2025, 9:01 PM
Why was she here? The snow was good reason to turn back. There was no prey stupid enough to try to brave the storm. The clouds hung low, thick and the grey bordering on black in the most shadowed parts. And the snow fell in fat flakes and blinding sheets, coating Solulfur's coat and disappearing the evidence of her trail behind her, every pawstep filled in quickly.
But she had to know. She had to see how bad it was. Spring had come, blossoms on the less-effected parts of the mountain bursting from the snow and melt-soaked earth. But here, on this summit, winter's grasp remained. Or was it winter, or summer's Hel?
The stench of rotting eggs, of fire, smoke and ash belched up from the belly of the earth, tinged every flake that stuck to Solulfur's fur, ear and nose. Fire was what she associated with that, and Solulfur had a good memory. She recalled the fires of last year, what a disaster. Their numbers were stronger now, the pack more established, but that meant nothing in the face of the wildfires ravaging the earth. And they had pups, now. Fragile little lives, lights soon be be snuffed by the choking smoke that would sweep ahead of the flames if Solulfur did not confirm the source of the fires. Evacuation was on her mind.
Or, it had been, before the air or maybe the snow or ash or whatever it was had begun to affect her. Now, her only thoughts were shelter and survival. There was a vice locked around the Black Sun's chest. Her head felt strange, a headache muffled by a slightly dizzying lightheadness as she sucked in another wheezing, too-shallow breath. She had not inhaled much of the smoke from the fires last year. This was a new experience, and it was unpleasant.
She wasn't sure whether it was better to try to make it back down the mountain through the snow and treacherous slick spots hidden beneath the blanket of porcelain, or whether she ought to keep hoping to find someplace to catch her breath higher on the summit. In the end, she didn't have a choice. Some foreign motivation gripped her, urged her to keep going.
Solulfur listened to that little voice within, unsure if it was fate's whisper, her grandfather's guidance, or her own flame burning down to the last frayed edges of its wick. She kept walking, picking her way across the terrain slowly to ensure she didn't miss a step and plummet to a bone-shattering death below. Her every breath was laced with a rattling wheeze, her maw parted as she sought to suck as much oxygen from the thin, snow and sulfur-scented air.
She didn't understand what was happening, and there was no one here to witness her. The Sun-wolf's golden gaze was rimmed with a white edge of fear. Homesickness for the Vale and the comfort of those within it was a sickening knife-twist inside her, but she kept climbing up the Summit until the peak stabilizing beneath her paws. Solulfur paused, eyeing the faintly lavender-tinged snow with narrowed eyes. Her flanks heaved, head held low, before the shape of a shadow carved into the cliffside appeared before her. The wind brushed against her, buffeting her almost away from the crevice, but the winds on the high peaks of mountains could be fickle. Solulfur ignored it, setting her teeth into a grimace as she soldiered forward and shouldered her way into the crevice. It was dark, but her keen vision would adjust in a moment. In the meantime, Solulfur tried to scent the air to get a sense for what might lie in wait in the dark. She didn't get much of a breath in, before she crumpled beneath the weight of a rasping coughing fit. She just couldn't get enough air in. Not a single breath she took seemed to fill her lungs fully.
She shut her eyes, waiting for her vision to adjust to see what lay within this windy crevice, hoping to dispel the dizzy spell gripping her with a moment of rest.
