Yet to be named.
And he walked on, lost in despair, wandering in the darkness, and wallowing in grief. The pain that had etched itself onto his heart, sorrow taking his soul in every step, and suffocated his hope until it was nothing more than a faded dream. He had been chained to his misery, tearing him away him from hope. He was no longer free and forever caged.
All around him were festers of bodies, bodies of his comrades, bodies of his enemies, and the bodies of innocents. Sword barely being clenched in hand, the great lupine warrior walked sobbing, Was this what his kind truly wanted? Was all this pain, misery, and death what his lord demanded? Was he nothing more than an instrument of torture designed by fate to be wielded by a power-hungry and sadistic king?
The answer was in front of him strewn out across the battlefield: Yes.
He collapsed to his knees, sobbing still, and praying to what ever merciful god there was to take his life and lead him to Elysium. Images of his family, friends, and home flashed through his mind. How would they know? How would the people he loved in this world know that he was dead? Would they not even be able to erect an edifice of peace for him, or would they just attend the mass burnings of the bodies not able to get his ashes back to give him a proper farewell?
And what of Adrian? That man he had fell in love with back in Malraux? Surely that angel among males couldn't go on living without him, so he pushed himself to his feet and looked a head. He found his reason for living. It wasn't his king. It wasn't glory, family, or friendship.
It was love: His love for Adrian is what pushed him past the many bodies of furs he knew since childhood, and others that were unfamiliar to him. It would take him days, and with his wounds he wouldn't last very long. So he decided to stay there among the masses of death and take anything of medicinal value and coin. He felt dirty, but he needed it for his journey. He found many herbs and coin,
bandages off of field doctors who got too close to the combat, and something of interest to him. It was a solid gold amulet with a ruby in the center of it. He found it off the body of a commanding officer. A horrible man: Undeserving of such a fine gift. He took the amulet off of the dead bull's neck and drew a cross down his torso with his hand. May he rest in peace he said before leaving, Even though he wasn't a holy man, he though he could do something for one of the people here despite his bad history with them.
He winced when he applied the herbs to his wounds. The sting let him know that they were working, and he tied a bandage snugly around them. He ground his teeth together in pain, God that hurts! The tears he was shedding before stopped a few moments ago when he had his epiphany. Memories of his time with Adrian came back to him. Walking with the young vulpine through the many parks and walkways of Malraux, sitting underneath the trees and watching the scenes of nature unfold before them, and how Adrian would bring his paints and a canvas with them on their trips and paint him in various positions. Some were nude, others not, but he never lacked a good reason to take his clothes off.
Amongst the vast sea or gore and death, a smile finally spread across his lips. He was happy. He was actually happy! It was important for him to keep his memories alive and in his thoughts. If he were to focus on anything else he would be lost to despair once more, and probably die lamenting over his loss.
He stood up on the hill one more time and looked out to the sea of death once more. The memories of his fallen comrades were fading now, and new and happy memories of his lover were filling his mind. He said a final prayer, and then departed back to his birthplace.