Knives and Pens [o]

[virus !]

There would come a day when my muscles would break down into little proteins, when my mind wasn't as sharp as it is now. With each day in passing my joints were beginning to ache just a little bit more, and each day I watched the young ones around me grow taller and older, and I was reminded that life wasn't long and that I would soon be passing. But, unlike before, when I was younger and I was still in my prime, I wasn't scared of death. I had served this Earth well, even if I wasn't always right in the head each moment of the way. I had years of insanity, seen in my flaming amber irises. The crazy was still behind them, it had never completely left. I was a killer at heart, a war hero, a warrior.

Years of battle had hardened my mind. I was no longer afraid of death, and I would welcome it with open arms when it came to me. But no, I wouldn't take my life. Ever. Suicide was for the weak, for the ones who couldn't bear pain. I hated pansies, so very much. With the cool breeze rushing past through the tree trunks, I could feel the bitter hold of winter beginning to die down. I was waiting for spring to come; this winter hadn't gotten it's hold on me, and I wasn't about to give in to it's icy fingers.

I stood up, my mind still in a calm state of peace. In the last few years of being Renegade's Delta male, I realized I was truly home. Nyx was here, though I didn't see her much. My sons were alive, my daughter was alive. My nephew Anakaros was alpha, and my granddaughter Harley had grown to be a beautiful woman. Although I know there are definite problems with our family, at least I was home where I belonged.

I closed my eyes for a few moments, before opening them to look out at the beautiful territory. I felt at peace; all was quiet. I wondered where the rest of the pack members were. Standing on the little hill I had been resting on, I looked out at the trees beginning to bloom, the snow beginning to melt and the grass poking through the thin crusted layer of frost. Maybe someone would come along, but maybe not.

[Jace]

Long are the days when I could run through the fields and feel like a pup. The days I once felt like nothing could hurt me, now I see what has happened to our pack. Leadership has been challenged many times, and there have been talks of abandoning our culture by some of the elders I have heard. I see now that the pack may finally fail, and dissolve into nothing. I now feel as though I might leave the pack and just never come back. Leave my fathers grave to be tended to by public works instead of myself ensuring his place of eternal rest be kept safe. I have lost hope, my friends abandoned me. I feel nothing. I have had these dreams lately. I become a hero in them. Saving the Renegades from Grazeal, a hidden artifact that had the power to destroy any life force with a simple bite or scratch. But I know that the Grazeal was myth my father told me just to get me to have dreams of being a hero. I once had those dreams, but that was a different time. Today is just as dark as the day Father was killed. The monster the killed him was fast. I could barely see a shadow behind him when he ran. It jumped and attacked, first taking out Father's tail. Then next attack it delivered was at Father's eyes. The final attack was a slash against father's neck, spilling blood against the ground. The dripping still runs through my mind. the crimson red blood that turned the ground from a luscious green to the color of to a soiled Grey, bringing memories of seeing many others before die, though I had never seen them. My fathers last words to me were that my mother, who I had never knew was alive. I asked what she looked like, and he only said she had the most beautiful purple eyes you had ever seen. he also said that she was fast. Faster than any other his father had ever seen. Since that discovery, I have decided that finding my Mother and finding out why she disappeared shortly after my Birth, and why she named me Galen. I might soon discover why this has all happened but I know that I have some time left before the curtain of darkness sets over the rest of my home. I walk neither in shadow nor light. I walk in equilibrium, or as my father described my choice, Shadowlight.