Prologue

Cold wind whispers through the ears of a pack of wolves, the Cloud Pack. The pack had the same lightness their name held. One wolf stood alone in the distance, examining the foe pack approaching. The female wolf's coat was shaggy, unkempt, but her eyes pierced with unblinking fierceness. Her paws were evenly spread in a posed stance, waiting and watching.

"Sutka?" A voice growled from behind her. The female wolf turned her head alluringly to the right and peered from her peripheral vision.

"Rollan." Sutka dipped her head in greeting, but her eyes never strayed from the near approaching pack.

Rollan sat quietly beside Sutka. He too, watched the approaching pack, but with an interested calmness Sutka found unnerving. Rollan almost never showed any emotion. None of the other wolves in the pack did either. Their name of The Pack of Hidden described their personalities well. "I have orders from Gylor."

"Oh?" Sutka compressed the surprise in her tone. Rollan knew it well.

"Yes." Rollan said blandly. "He want for us to make peace with The Pack of Clouds."

Sutka rolled her eyes and barked a hoarse laugh. "Hah! You think those stubborn pigs with chopped tails will listen. I think not!" She shook her head as if to prove her point.

Rollan turned. "You dare criticize another tribe's rituals? But-" he snickered. "I do have to agree."

Sutka twitched the side of her mouth into the start of a fake smile. "Imagine getting your tail chopped off at two moons of age. I would tear out the alpha's eyes." She barked another laugh that Rollan didn't return.

Rollan stood. "Ripping out eyes or not, the pack is here, and we have to make peace." He smirked. "That is, if possible." He began to slither down the rocks, keeping as still and low as possible. Sutka followed. The mud and dirt dried into their gray fur helped camouflage them into their surroundings. The journey down was mostly quiet besides a brief snarl from Rollan for Sutka to drop her tail. Sutka obeyed.

"Sutka," Rollan growled when they reached the edge of the forest, "Don't have a hot head. We need this peace treaty. When I walk out, wait for me to thrash my tail." Sutka nodded tightly.

Rollan left the trees, his tail held up in the 'halt' signal. Sutka counted, each number being counted with an exhale. Inhale. Exhale again. Was it time? No, she told herself. Wait. He'll be fine…

Inhale. Exhale. Why wasn't he moving his tail? Sutka peered around the oak she was behind. A scream pierced her ears, and despite her early training, she jumped and steadied herself. She knew that tone of voice, but had never heard him scream. Rollan had been attacked. Sutka flashed out from behind the tree right as Rollan ran into her.

"They tricked us," he groaned. Sutka could only stare. A fresh red cut had sliced Rollan's eye, his ear was slashed, and his paw was positioned in an odd angle. With a feeling of rolling nausea, she realized she would see the lump of his bone sticking through his skin. The world began to tilt.

"Sutka!" Rollin snarled through his clamped teeth, beginning to limp away the best he could. "We need to get back, tell Gylor…there will be no peace treaty."

Sutka feel her paws weighed to the ground. She had the option to tell the leader, for him to end it…or a much more appealing option. Take revenge. Sink her teeth into the throats of those bloody-

"SUTKA!" Rollan screamed, "We are GOING!" The grass brushed their fur and thorns tangled into their tails bushing out behind them, but there was no time to stop for grooming. Sutka realized, with sudden, horror, this could be some of her last moments with Rollin. He blood was flowing evenly onto the ground it fat ruby drip. The cut on his eye trickled blood, and a thin line of the blood ran from it, curling under his muzzle, to stick in his fur or drip onto the ground. To Sutka it appeared if he was crying a line of bloody tears. Bloody tears that needed to be mended with the satisfaction of final revenge. The bone under the skin looked tight and strained. Rollin hunched his shoulders and bit down his screams with every step taken.

Sutka's shoulders trembled as the violent but half-conscious Rollan limped and tripped back to camp while leaning on her, finally collapsing in a heap by leader den. "Go," Rollin gasped, and went limp, his eyes glazing over.

"Rollin." Sutka whispered, her voice cracking and barley making any audible sound. They had done this to him. She knew she could never forget this moment, the moment where her eyes were telling her the opposite of what her brain could believe. It was going to be a simple treaty, just a few words, and the other pack had anger and taken it out on her friend. The only wolf she knew the best. Rollin's half-smile, his battle cry, the way he would blink and twitch a lot when he was lying to her. Was all of that gone?

Sutka stumbled into the Alpha's den, knowing that she looked awful and did not care. Her throat was to dry to utter any words to describe what had just happened.

"They killed our pack brother." Gylor's voice was cold, inhumanly filled with the venom of hate towards The Pack of Clouds. His words were not those of question.

"Gylor…" Sutka moaned, finally sinking into the dark world closing in on her. She welcomed it. This world was one that spoke not of the pain and suffering, of death or betrayal, that she so longed no to hear of. Sutka collapsed onto the cold stone floor, and only the inaudible, slow, jagged pattern of her breathing gave the sign that she was still alive.