[continued from previous]
And - Alpha's lips curled at the edges - this new development in the age-old tradition will be interesting. If Orysh's mighty paw guides this event, who is he to deny the great god of the skies?
In a single, fluid motion, Alpha stood, stretching languidly as he did so, his muscles rippling in Orysh's light. He looked down at the still-crouched Mina, who looked up at the pack leader expectantly. There was a glimmer for the Hunt in her sharp blue eyes.
As Orysh began his daily descent, two wolves - one as black as the silken night and the other a delicate dappled grey - melted into the forest, turning their back upon the blistering heat emanating from Orysh's Run. They will return a week from now, to welcome the remaining wolf wholly into the pack.
Night fell, and Faryn discovered that the hostile terrain that was so blistering on his body became more tolerable. The two had raced for half the afternoon, making good pace before the heat of the sands and the fire in their bodies forced them to a panting stop. Even culturing a shelter by digging down into the cooler depths of the sands was an effort.
For the first time, Faryn felt shame for hiding from their deity's fiery embrace. Shame, then confusion. Orysh, who grants them the light of warmth during the day and comfort of fire during the night. Can this be the same Orysh that blazes over this blistering wasteland? Faryn found it a difficult concept to grasp.
Faryn heard the sounds of paws, and realised Cyph was already on the move again.
Telling himself he would think about this later, when they rested again, Faryn scrabbled out of his makeshift den and bounded forward into the open.
The cold hit him like a falling tree. The wind - its howling dry scream incessant across the dunes - stole the heat from his chest, staggering him in its wake. Without Orysh in the sky, the blistering desert had become a frigid and equally hostile wasteland. The summer coat of Faryn's wolf form barely withstood the chill.
Stunned by the violent changes in temperature, Faryn could just see the figure of his other companion hazily as it reached the top of a dune, his silhouette outlined in silver that the fleet moon deer cast, even as he struggled to regain some countenance.
Cyph turned to look back at Faryn, his eyes flashing in the night. Then, silently, with the flick of a tail, the wolf disappeared, leaving the splay-legged wolf to stand there recovering from the sudden chill.
Faryn felt a spark of anger. Snatching at it, Faryn's mouth opened and closed in a snarling snap, jolting his entire body out of its stunned stupor. Fur ruffled in the wind, the brown wolf goaded himself into a loping gait that followed the other wolf up the dune and over.
The Run had only started.
[sorry about this again. I've just had three fillings done down the left jaw because I eeties too muchly lollies. Suffering from aaaaches]