Work Text:
It was by no means a cold night. Early June, in fact.
The Leader, however, shivered a little on his stone ledge.
Riki's eyes snapped open in his sleep, searching for a pair of brown eyes that weren't there. He shuffled forward, opening his mouth to inhale the scent which had just appeared to him. It was close to him, on the tip of his tongue. It was there. But though he reached for its source, there was only the gentle summer breeze to greet him.
He delved further, claws scratching into the rock of his nest. There…..there! The eyes watched him back – and that was not all to be found. Soft silver-blue fur, a bark, more of a squeal – something in Riki stirred at the sound. It was a feeling he thought he'd lost, unfamiliar now to his mind. But his heart understood.
Riki was well acquainted with the feeling of comradeship. The dogs sleeping below meant the world to him. His loyal dogs. This was… not quite the same. More potent. Fiercer. Affection? Affection had always been just a word to him…
The image swam for a moment and Riki whined, his paw pads sweating in the warm night air. It was piecing together now, surfacing clearer. A young face framed by soft silver fur. He struggled to link this face with something in the physical world. All he could place was a warmth, and the pulsing of blood heard from a distance. The heartbeat was fast and the wide brown eyes were afraid.
A huge, horrible shadow engulfed the snow and Riki watched himself begin to run.
He bore his teeth where he lay, sensing them meet soft fur as the ground exploded under him. Now he could feel the little heartbeat – everything else had melded into a blur of cold, snow, bone-crunching terror and fury. His legs churned in the snow and the ground heaved, tossing him over. The bundle of fur left him. Silence followed – Riki felt himself pressed flush to the snow as the traces of the pup’s scent were overpowered by something vast, disgusting and evil. The stillness was blown apart as three claws of white hot pain crashed through him. The ground receded, he was spinning away and all was dark as the cries of his own name and the shrill wail of the pup echoed in his ears.
Half-conscious, the Leader was suddenly on his paws. He threw back his his head and howled, anguish in his voice, at the vast inkiness above. A strange word, born from the language of another creature, escaped on his breath. A name, shouted out on the mountainside?
His sleep-addled mind turned the word over and over, finding the pieces slipping around each other as though unable to gain traction. The young face was there. It was watching him fall. And suddenly there was the sky, pinpricks of fire encircling Riki's head like flecks of stinging snow. Hard stone rose up to welcome him. The Leader lay still, panting, mouthing the strange word to himself, hoping to make some sense of it, why it smelt like warm smiles and soft fur and black, shaggy, fanged death. Soon the word too was lost as exhaustion took hold. As Riki’s thoughts subsided its presence hung there,
unresolved, on his breath. Briefly, before he closed his eyes, he saw the mountainside lit Silver by stars.