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"I'm going to die..."

"Shut up!" Indignant and bitter, the voice denied the inevitable.

"Stevarn... just leave me..." Even his voice sounded weaker now, much less deeper than it used to be an hour or so ago. How long had it been since the attack?

"Shut the fuck up!" The words were choked by sobs, sobs of desperation and frustration because its owner had no idea what to do to save the day. Pain could not be measured by words. For all the things that came to Stevarn's mind as he lugged the stallion through the forests, one arm slung over his shoulders bearing as much weight as he could, dragging the bulk behind him, he could not sum up into words how exactly he felt. A day or so ago, he was living a life of mediocrity. It was dull, oppressive, and humiliating, but he was alive and could look forward to seeing another sunrise and sunset every day he was breathing. He had food, water, shelter, even the company of a man who could accommodate his select tastes, but that was all gone. That was an echo of himself, a ghost from long ago that felt more like a lifetime than a few dozen hours. He was tired, he was starving, and he was in tears trying to pull along the bleeding form of a guy who no longer knew how to feel about - a guy straight from his dreams. A guy who seemed to inhabit everything Stevarn had ever seen whenever his eyes were closed. Now this man was dying, but he refused to accept that. The Gods would help. They _had_to help.

"Why are y-" Aydame winced, pain most likely shooting up his side from the wound in his leg. Stevarn swore something colourful, putting the stallion down to examine the injury for yet another time, "Why're you doing this..."

Stevarn ignored him, peeling away the sodden red makeshift bandage. The bleeding had definitely slowed, for which he was thankful for, but there was no means of ultimately patching up the open wound. Even if the wolf did find some miraculous way to stop the blood loss, Aydame wouldn't last a few days until he'd fall victim to infection. Bad spirits would infest the blood of his leg and destroy him from the inside. That much Stevarn knew - basic medicine for his people - but for all he had to spare, there was little to do beside keep wrapping it up in whatever was left to at least protect the wound from worsening, at least for a short while. Never before had Stevarn hoped as much that the God Star would prove to be true. All this time, he had so adamantly believed that the Gods had fallen to the planet's surface finally, for some unknown reason, and that he could actually meet them, but after all he had been through... how could the Gods allow for such creatures to exist? Why was he forsaken? For having sex with another man? Fuck, the act of life can be performed for pleasure amongst men and women too; it's not always about bearing children. The horses don't give as much shit about kids except for the fact they have to procreate at some point. Why were the Gods so uptight about the act of life for the wolves? It wasn't fair!

Yanking off his loincloth, Stevarn bound up Aydame's leg with the final piece of fabric he had left which could possibly be used as a bandage. He shivered as the cold air whipped at his nether regions, feeling very much exposed again. He didn't like these stops, as necessary as they were. For every rest they made, the lions would gain more ground on them. The blood trail would be potent enough to act like a fuse; once lit, all they had to do was chase the line of Aydame's blood right to where they were. It had become a race against time. Those dead lions wouldn't report back, suspicion would be raised, search parties sent out, they find the bodies near the river's shore, and then the spark ignites the hunt. Stevarn reckoned they had barely an hour at most before they'd be found. That was to say if nobody else found them first. Hypothetically, they were working on borrowed time.

"You should run..." Aydame breathed in a grimace, "Save yourself."

"Then what would be the point?" Stevarn stood up, stretching his back and wiping the blood on his paws across the grass. Though by now his whole forearms had been stained red practically, he didn't feel comfortable just leaving Aydame's life essence smeared across his body. It made him sick.

"The point is that you'd survive."

"I'm not leaving you to die," the wolf growled, indignant from the stallion, "For fuck's sake, Aydame, we've not come all this way to bite it at the last stretch." He swallowed back a sob, "You don't get to say 'I love you' and then fuck off. I won't let you do that."

Aydame clutched at his leg and sat up, his movements staggered and lumbering. He was nowhere near in the physical peak that he had before. He looked older - much older - with a sad frown upon his face and his whole demeanour feeling deflated. Stevarn knew all the signs. Men who had gotten too old, wolves who'd suffered fatalities out on the hunt, those who were sick and not getting any better... Aydame looked just as they did. He had given up.

"What are you doing?" He said, still wincing as he moved, "What are we doing? Are you still on your crusade to the 'God Star', or are you finally going to give in and realise that this is over? I'm bleeding out and you can't hold your own against them." He jabbed a finger in the direction of the forest, from where they'd come. "There is no escape from this. We're already dead. You just haven't accepted it yet."

"Shut up!" Stevarn screamed, paws clutching at his head whilst he fought back bitter tears. He refused to accept that this was the end. It wasn't fair and he wasn't ready. The stallion just guiltily looked away, as though he knew he was pushing for the wolf to just cave in already so they could be done with the deluding themselves. Stevarn was well aware their options were bleak, and the odds of survival even bleaker, but he had to do something - anything to give him a reason to soldier on.

After a moment of silence, Aydame spoke up, softly reaching out to pull at the wolf's forearm,

"I'm sorry I raped you..." Stevarn let himself fall into the horse's embrace, his face lying across the male's broad chest, listening to a heartbeat that would soon be slowing down, then stopping altogether. His paw reached up across where the organ laid, fingers brushing across the short fur and lingering there. Part of him wished it wouldn't have to end this way, wishing he could just wave some magic and have everything be fixed, but their luck had run out. It was the endgame.

"I forgive you."

"Maybe if I'd said the words sooner, we might not be here in this mess. We might not be here..." Stevarn closed his eyes as yet more fresh tears began to gently fall,

"You can't afford to think like that..." he whimpered, burying his face just a little deeper, the desire to be as close as possible burning within him, "What's done is done. We can't think about 'what if's."

"But it's true. If I'd have said I love you back that night in the forest, instead of raping you, what would you have said? I would have come clean about my dreams, told you everything I told you at the shoreline, and admitted to wanting you not as a slave but as a companion, what would you have said?"

There was a heavy silence; one which Stevarn knew went on for too long. He had a point, as much as the wolf loathed admitting it. If Aydame had come forward about his true intentions back then, he might have acted differently. He might not have had to desire to flee, reconsidering his options. What if the God Star now turned out to be nothing that he expected - or worse, nothing that he needed? There was so much riding on this, but it could have all been avoided if they'd just opened up to one another. Even back at the cell, he had a chance to tell Aydame about his dreams. He was just as much at fault as the stallion was for their predicament.

"Just as I thought..." Aydame said more to himself than to Stevarn, but loud enough so that both could hear. So it was true. All that had transpired was just a work of bad fate. Bad decisions made time and time again, the two fighting and bickering right up until the moment it mattered most. He should never have resisted the horse back in the burning meadows when the God Star fell. He should have accepted the male's advances instead of turning him away. He should have never run away once he was asleep. He should have told him about the dreams. He should have given the stallion a second chance instead of dragging him through the dirt over his mistakes. They should never have had sex.

Ultimately, Stevarn should never have committed the act of life with Issak. He should have known better than to anger the Gods and this was there revenge to make his life a living nightmare, to put him through ordeals that would eventually kill him. Now they were taking his last happiness away, then soon it would be him to finally follow.

Flames kept churning in his mind. All around him was fire, a constant fire that engulfed them all. It picked and peeled away at everything his life had been, destroying every sweet memory until it was sour and broken. The fires of the God Star burnt everything in its wake, crashing down not just the valley but everything Stevarn had ever known. Why did it always have to end like this? Why did everything have to end in death?

Smoke tinged the air as he lay against the stallion, the two just idly sitting by whilst they waited. Stevarn wanted to move, but perhaps Aydame was right. Perhaps he was just denying the inevitable truth that they were going to die. They might as well do it together, within each other's arms, be it at the paws of the lions or to some other natural cause. The wolf breathed in slowly, sighing out in misery. Dank ash filled his senses as the fire continued to rage on in his head. It was going to be the end.

"Do you smell that?"

Stevarn looked up. Aydame had spoken, now looking around and sniffing the air experimentally. He repeated the question,

"Hey, do you smell that?"

The wolf took a sample of the air. There was a hint of smoke to it. He had thought it was all in his imagination!

"What is it? Fire?" He got up, ready to lug the stallion to safety if a nearby inferno had been set alight.

"No... I've smelt this before..." He pushed himself to his hoofs, swaying slightly and weaker upon his wounded leg, but Stevarn didn't have to keep him upright. He continued to put his nose up into the air, taking long, drawn breaths, inhaling slowly. "Back in my youth, my father took me out galloping with him. We made it into a little adventure so he could teach me the ways of the Herd. It took many nights, so we had to camp out, make a small fire for ourselves so we could cook and keep warm. My father taught me of a special tree that burnt with a damp aroma, which was sour to the nose and easily confused with muddy water for its scent is not unlike its own. They're called tockle trees, and they're fairly uncommon, growing only in select locations." Stevarn looked at him curiously,

"So what does this mean?" He had no idea how such information would prove relevant to them now, at this their darkest hour. Maybe the stallion was just going delusional from the blood loss. That tended to happen, Stevarn had found, when men had bled for too much. Their minds would dissipate, as though thinned by the loss, turning them into husks of their former selves. Often hunters would be brought back, deep gouges in their body beyond healing often turning rabid and raving. It was a terrifying sight, and usually those gone mad would have to be taken care of... Stevarn did not want to take care of Aydame. For as much as he cared for the man, he neither possessed the stomach nor the muscle to kill him.

"Where did the demon fall?" He turned wildly to the wolf, grappling at each of his shoulders and stooping to look directly at Stevarn. "You saw, back up in that tree; where did the 'God Star' fall?"

"It was close to the ocean's bay, near the cliffs. Why?"

"Because those trees, sweet pup, only grow in areas of rich salt concentration... where, say, brine would wash up on their roots." The realisation slowly dawned upon the wolf, his expression lifting up just as that glimmer of hope burst back into light. "We're closer to the God Star than you thought."

"Can you make it?" Stevarn asked, already getting excited, but he frowned, just as he gathered their stuff, "Do you even want to go? I mean, to you, that thing is an evil spirit, right? Something trapped in the sky now allowed to roam the world? Why do you want to go now, all of a sudden?" Aydame shrugged, giving a mighty roll of his shoulders as he wiped cold sweat from his brow. He tried his best to appear fitter than he was, but he couldn't fool the wolf, despite the mask of strength he diligently forced into place,

"It is what you want... your peractia, if I'm correct? Then if it is the last thing we do, I wish that we do something that will fulfil your desires."

"Oh Aydame..." Another sob threatened to rise up Stevarn's throat, but he held it back as he whispered. Why had the horse just not said all of this before? They could have been happier than this. The wolf coughed, rousing himself, "Right, well, just let me take care of one thing first... Stand back."

The horse did as he was told and made room for the wolf who took clumps of moss and began to rub it into the bloodstains, marring it with streaks of sickly green and wiping away as best he could the dried patches left by Aydame. Next he took a step back, grasping his sheath and turning to the mossy rock they'd be lying upon before he let out a golden stream of piss. He splattered down the rock with what he could until the flow petered out into nothing but droplets, shaking his crotch dry then dusting himself off. It was what he'd been doing every other time they'd taken a pause, something to try and cover their tracks, if it did any good. That was only partly his cause though. Now, knowing it would eventually lead the lions along anyway sooner or later, he decided more to just fuck with them and force them to smell his marking all along the trail, taking in the stench of his urine in order to follow them. It gave him great pleasure in getting one over on the lions. He chuckled; he was literally pissing them off. That was a joke Issak had told him when he'd been out hunting. Instantly his heart was panging for home. He could have been there, right now, were it not for his stupid actions.

"Are you ready?" Aydame asked, putting a paw upon the wolf's shoulder. Stevarn looked back, rubbing his paw over that of the stallion's and smiled sadly. His actions had been worth it; he'd met the man of his dreams, after all.

"Let's go."

Together they set off, still as cumbersome as before, but Aydame seemed to have a renewed vigour to his step. Albeit it was slower than what the wolf was used to, but he no longer needed to drag the male along under his arm, slouched across his weight whilst they'd struggled. Perhaps it was the sense that this was his last task to ever be undertaken, that once he'd done this as his last gift to the wolf, he could pass away peacefully. Stevarn once more refused to let this be so; he could only wish now that the God Star did live up to his expectations. Now, being so close, he had no idea what he was to see. In his culture, the star had always been seen as the home of the Gods, a point of great light encapsulated forever with a kingdom lying behind its flames. Very few had tried to define what then lay within this kingdom. Some had proclaimed it to be a haven, paradise even, for the deities. Others had deemed it to be impossible to comprehend. A single point of intense, bright light that nobody would ever understand; often this interpretation was extended, much like the chief of Stevarn's pack, who believed this singular point to be a looking hole for the Gods to peer down and gaze at everything they had created.

It became increasingly obvious that the fires had left their mark upon the land as they picked their way through the forest. The density of the trees thinned, the leaves covered in a grimy film of settled ash, and the floor still smouldering with drifting embers of forgotten flames. Stevarn wondered if he'd seen the very forest before from that treetop all those hours ago, thinking if he'd ever imagine he'd make it this far. It had seemed so important to him then, that his whole being depended upon reaching this cataclysmic entity that had fallen to the planet. Back then, he had been narrow-minded and guided only by the beliefs of his own people, his culture giving him a predisposition to what he deemed to be right or true. But after being shown how differently others could think, despite at first dismissing them as fools, he now questioned what it was he'd be finding. He knew exactly what he hoped and longed to see; he wished to grace his Gods and speak with them, plead for mercy and beg that they heal Aydame. He'd put himself to their feet and give over his very being if it meant sparing the life of the stallion, but the horse himself had believed what he'd been taught as a child. That the God Star was a demon, incarcerated in the sky and left there to rot so as to serve a lesson to those who did wrong. If two people's views differed so greatly, then which was correct? What if they were to find what had fallen and it transpired to be Aydame's demon, just as he predicted? It wasn't even beyond possibility that they would find the Sky Guardian that the lion's had talked about. Heck, Stevarn at this point was steeling himself for something completely different, beyond anything that anyone had envisioned.

Aydame stumbled, and immediately the wolf was at his side, lifting him up again and checking the bandage. Already he'd bled through it, but there was little else to replace it with anymore. They were both naked, and running out of choices,

"Are you alright?" he asked, mothering the horse, "Do you need to rest again?"

"No..." Aydame panted, pushing Stevarn's seeking paws away from his leg. His voice was unsteady, as though teetering upon collapse, "N-no... I'm fine. I just misjudged my step."

"You're not going to die on me, do you hear?" Stevarn pulled the horse's arm around his shoulders, putting his face to the male's chest and heaving up as much weight as he could bear that the stallion could not hold on his own. Aydame didn't respond, leaving a pregnant pause until speaking up again,

"We're almost there. Let's just go."

The stallion was right. They were almost there. After stumbling and staggering on for a few minutes, they suddenly plunged through the forest and into a charred trough. Stevarn had to just marvel at the sight. Whatever had come through here must have been large and incredibly hot, for it had carved through the very land and forest leaving nothing but a black scorch in its wake. The very edges of the woodland surrounding the crevice were burnt away to leave the trough untouched. Nothing resided there, not even perhaps the carcass of a fallen tree or debris from the earth. It was a flat, curved burrowed path. Aydame seemed just as startled as the wolf, both of them scanning about and taking in the depth of the carnage caused. Neither of them spoke. Neither of them needed to. Nothing needed to sum up in words what they were witnessing. Nothing had ever caused such destruction on this scale as they saw now. Sure, some species were relentless, and wars had occurred between them, but it had never resulted in anything quite as mortifying as what they were observing. Looking out to the thinnest part, inland and up the valley, Stevarn could make out the mountains where he had been not a few days ago, the higher land where he had lived all his life.

The wider path was their direction. Whatever had come careening down through here, by logic, must have left a larger wake, ergo all they now had to do was follow the way down to the sea's edge. Aydame balanced his weight against the cut's side, moving along at a slow pace with a limp to his bad leg, blood beginning to trickle down in the slightest of lines across his thigh and knee, but he made no complaints. Stevarn kept an eye on him all the same, keeping him in front as they wandered down. The sounds of crashing waves were growing louder as they went, the smell of a sea breeze sifting through the air. They were impossibly close now, finally nearing the goal Stevarn had been determined to get to so long ago. Oddly enough, he found himself to be nervous, his breathing quickening and anxiety stabbing him in the gut. He felt faint and dizzy, delirious from the anticipation and unsure if he could actually go through with this. He fixated upon what he would see, what he might find. Acrid spit swelled up in his muzzle, but he didn't vomit. He couldn't. He was rigid with fear.

Aydame went on as he hung back, taking slower and smaller steps until only the horse was moving forwards. Fear was his enemy, for it held him back; reminding him that maybe this would be wrong, that what he would find would be nothing that he hoped for. Stevarn wanted to cry because this voice in his head might be right, that he might have been a total idiot for dragging a weak stallion all the way on a fool's errand when they could have been holed up somewhere, letting the horse recover whilst they waited out the lion's hunt. Aydame might have survived - though that was a big 'might'.

"Hey, pup, have you seen this?!" Aydame called back as he went over the lip of the blackened crag, disappearing from view. Panic and apprehension filled the wolf to his core, but he forced himself to go on. His legs felt like they were made from cloth, weak and yielding as he tried to walk. He hurried to catch up to the stallion, leaping over the edge and joining him down upon the rocks. When he landed, he rose to his footpaws, standing beside Aydame who looked dead ahead. Stevarn glanced to see what he was referring to, and he saw...

"Oh dear Gods..."

It was unlike anything he'd ever imagined. The sight was truly beautiful. Whilst living up in the mountains, the only bodies of water Stevarn had ever known were perhaps the odd waterfall, streams, and then ultimately the rivers and lakes that dotted the land or cut it up into portions. From up in those ranges, his pack had only caught glimpses of what lay beyond thanks to the hunters who ventured farther than were necessary. At first it had appeared to be a lake, with apparently no end to it, but the elders had clarified further on this. They had called it a 'sea', an entity of water that divided the world up into its parts, leaving the wolves on the sacred land and isolating the other species to other realms. But details had always been sketchy, for nobody had ever truly travelled this far to see the edge of the world. Here and now, Stevarn stood there looking out upon the unknown. It was, for him, a genuinely new experience. It suffocated him in such excitement he found himself racing to breathe. The water went on endlessly, toiling and foaming as it lapped up against the shore. Unlike the river, the waters ebbed to and fro more drastically, leaving behind frothy foam of white rather than just undulating across a sodden riverbank. The tockle trees which Aydame had described lay scattered and crumpled all across the beach, having been uprooted from the forest by the God Star and dragged onto the bay. They lined all the way back up to the verge, illustrating the true destruction caused. Large rocks scattered the shoreline, marking a very distinct bay of where the sea met the land, which stretched on for a considerable length from side to side. It was like standing upon the precipice of the world, knowing that once out to sea, there was nothing beyond it. Out beyond even that was the sun, rising up from the brink of the world and up into the sky. It now crept up, still partially hidden by the sea's horizon, and marked the dawn of a new day.

"The view is incredible..." Stevarn muttered, "This has to be what true beauty looks like..."

"Oh I don't know. It's got some pretty strong contenders." The wolf looked up, perplexed, and gazed over to the stallion, who had apparently been staring at Stevarn all this time. He couldn't help but blush, breaking eye contact but knowing the stallion was still looking at him.

Stevarn turned his attention back to the sea, but something else caught his eye now. Half buried in the rock, smashed and torn to pieces, was something unearthly. Shimmering in an odd purple and black shade, there was something sitting just upon the bay, still smoking from its descent.

This was it. This was the God Star.

"Aydame... That's it..." Stevarn whispered, scared to his wits as he couldn't break his gaze away from the unknown secret that lay just a few feet away. "We're here..."

Aydame did not answer.

"Aydame?"

The wolf glanced back to where the horse should have been, but saw nothing. He looked about, trying to find the male again and spotted him, slipping down the rocks and lying upon a flat slab, wheezing badly and clutching at his chest.

"Aydame!"

Panicking, Stevarn jumped down the crag, skidding upon the loose pebbles and scrabbling to get to the stallion. His footpaws hurt scraping along the sharp stones, but he didn't care. He rushed with all the speed he could muster to get to Aydame's side, righting the male's weight and letting him lie back against the rock, propped up on one elbow. The horse's eyes were fluttering closed, his breathing slow and shallow, blood now dripping once again from his wound. Stevarn peeled away the cloth, the rag now soaked through and unusuable, tossing it aside onto the beach. Doing the only thing he could, he applied new pressure to the wound to form a newer clot, something to help Aydame last a little longer.

Lurching up, Aydame roused at the pain when force was put onto his hurt thigh, hissing through the agony. One of his paws clamped upon Stevarn's shoulder for support, pulling a horrible grimace as he bit through the pain.

"P-puppy... I need t'tell you..." he mumbled, his voice tired and quiet, slurring words together, "It's important..."

"It can wait." Stevarn was adamant. Just a short while longer, then he could save Aydame. That was all he needed, just a short while longer.

"No, it can't!" The horse sounded serious, his tone grave. The wolf relented and looked up, listening, "I want you to know the ritual of the dead. It is my people's funeral." Stevarn went to speak, about to spout off some dismissive and indignant comment that the horse would live, but Aydame cut him off before he had the chance, "Just in case, alright? Please... for me?" There was a moment of silence, Stevarn looking at the horse with bitter, sad eyes, but again he let the stallion do as he wished, "Thank you... You will need to recite these words: Unto the Herd you go, Aydame, to every stallion and mare before you. They will welcome you on the other side and bring you into their embrace. You shall be forever remembered, never forgot. Do you understand? You can add in any personal touches as would any lover or relative, but it is important to me, please..."

Stevarn just nodded, not trusting his own voice as he tried not to let the tears flow. It all sounded so final, as though the horse now not just expected death but welcomed it. They were mere feet away from what could possibly save the stallion's life, but here he was making his final vows.

"Now... go... check out the God Star..."

He lingered for a moment more, holding Aydame's paw in his own, staying beside the male for as long as he dared to leave it, simply taking in every memory he could. He didn't want to go. Part of him instinctively told him to stay, to wait, but he had to go. Just to make sure there was a way to save him. He had to find out what the God Star was.

Slowly, he got to his footpaws and turned his back upon Aydame, wiping his face with the back of his arm - it was time to realise his peractia.

"I love you..."

"I love you too puppy. Forever and always."

Stevarn descended down the beach's slope further, making his way towards the God Star. As he got closer, its size became much more apparent. It loomed above him, despite its broken state, and as he neared the details became more defined.

What he had thought to be some burning ball of nothing, a pinpointed hole where the Gods looked down upon the world, transpired to be some sort of bizarre vessel. As though like a boat the wolves often saw other tribes using, it looked very strange. Alien, even, to his people. There was nothing that could match the design. It was outlandish and bizarre, as though a madman had built the thing himself. He dared to take a step closer, still feeling the remnants of heat radiating from it. It was made entirely from metal, a feat that was beyond even the capabilities of the foxes. Nothing could ever be made entirely out of metal... There just wasn't enough, certainly not for something this size. It was the size of a cliff, and smoothed to a perfect finish. It wasn't just like the metal was smooth, but it was flawless. Stevarn reached out a paw to touch the metallic surface, the oddly coloured hues shining beneath his paw. Tentatively, he lightly pressed his paw against the object, feeling the warmth under his pads. It must have been burning, even in the sky, but for how long exactly? Had this whole entity been ablaze for all his life, and longer, whilst it had stayed afloat in the air? Stevarn suspected it to be the home of the Gods, just as some had preached, but it seemed so freakish that this was what it turned out to be: a purple-black metal building.

This building had many holes torn in its side, ripped open so that its guts were on show. Stevarn peered inside the nearest tear and was petrified at what he saw. Strange tablets and inscriptions seemed to line its interior walls, symbols and shapes the wolf had never even seen before in his life, and an odd glow illuminated the insides and pulsated, as though alive. Perhaps the entity itself was a God, but they had all been created in their image... if this was a God, why did it look so unreal?

Stevarn took the brave step to go further. He put one footpaw into the insides and placed it down gingerly, feeling himself stand upon metal floor panels, and he levered himself inside, sliding in through a gap. He found himself in some alien world, surrounded by frightening lights and words, not knowing what anything did, unsure that if he touched something he might hurt himself or set off some trap. Everything he bumped into scared him, making him jump in terror, his heart racing quicker and quicker. He swallowed down his speeding heart and tried to venture forward.

"H-arin'kal?" he called out, trying to keep to formalities, "Is there an... is there anyone there?"

Nobody responded, his voice reverberating inside the hollow walls. The ghostly echo to his voice terrified him, but he had to keep going. He came to a half-open threshold, two doors moving in ways he'd never even imagined before jarred open. They slid upon unseen beams, moving away from each other to create a path. Normally doors would swing upon hinges, but these did not. They had no hinges. Instead they would move, sparks erupting from the latches they sat within. Stevarn leapt through, staggering back keeping the sparking contraption in his field of view until he stumbled upon some kind of plinth that was lacking its statue. He yelped, hitting his elbow hard against some kind of opaque glass, and suddenly the whole room burst into life.

Sounds whirred from within, humming noises creeping up within Stevarn's ears, and bleeps and flashes erupting all around him. He frantically flitted his gaze around the room, the doors sealing shut behind him as the room seemed to fill with energy. Was he finally meeting the Gods? Was this what he'd been waiting for all this time?

The ghostly vision of some kind of man flickered into existence above this podium. A man that intrigued the wolf for his appearance was most startling.

He was utterly devoid of fur, save for that which adorned his head and face, though even that looked grotesque. Instead, he was bare, right down to the skin which was a pale pink colour, and it seemed even wrinkled in places. Never before had Stevarn ever come across a bald creature before, every other species perhaps having slightly odd pelts, but nevertheless they had them. This being however did not, all he had instead was a matting a fur on his head, brushed back and slick as though damp, with fur that extended down his face in front of his ears, following his jaw bone until joining under his nose. He wore strange clothes, nothing Stevarn had ever seen before. Clothes which seemed to cover far greater portions of the body than what the wolf was used to. The whole torso, limbs, and waist were covered in garments, all except for the head and paws. He looked oddly deformed, for he had no muzzle, instead having a stout and blunted face, and his ears were halfway down his head and attached directly to the sides, pinned back and bizarrely shaped. Then his paws... There were four fingers and a thumb, certainly, but his claws were flatter, less sharp, and the entire things were covered in the same flesh his body was, as though that was his equivalent to fur. He opened his mouth, something full of odd flat teeth with pathetic fangs, and he began to talk in words Stevarn couldn't quite understand,

"This is Professor Jorin, reporting to Captain Traem upon the state of the orb we picked up; though stasis appears to be holding, I can't help but worry about why the orb didn't shut off when it had taken in all the materials necessary for planetary production. I had made several scans of it before those stupid humans had blundered into my laboratory activating the thing nearly destroying the entire planet, and I kept noticing an anomaly within its coding. I will get back to you once I've discovered more."

The God flickered out again, and paused, frozen in mid-air. He no longer moved, no longer spoke, and just stared into nothingness whilst keeping perfectly still. Stevarn took a few wary steps forward, approaching the God with much caution. He cleared his throat, addressing the man before him,

"Harin'kal... Pro-fes-zor Jo-rin. My name is Stevarn-Ko, of the wolves... I have travelled a great distance to seek an audience with you." He took a step closer, within touching distance of the God, "I beseech your aid, for a... friend of mine, he has been hurt and I need your help to heal him." There was no response. The God stood frozen, unmoving, unfeeling. "Please, oh Great One, he has been wounded badly and will surely die if you do not help him!" Still nothing... Stevarn reached out, leaning forward towards the God's footpaw, "Please... please, oh God, I beg of you..."

Please help me...

His paw fell upon... nothing. It drifted through and fell to the other side, as though there were nothing there. Stevarn repeated the motion, his paw carrying on flying through the spectre of the God. Was this some cruel joke? That the God was long since gone, leaving behind this echoing remnant? Angrily, Stevarn took several swipes more, thrusting his paw through the image whilst balling it up into a fist, hoping that what he was doing was delivering some damage or pain, as slight as it might have been.

He hit something else upon the podium, and hisses of gase sprung into action, a hidden door lifting to reveal a new chamber, lights flickering on inside, blinking as though broken. Stevarn looked across the room and looked at the new area, seeing a capsule inside. Made entirely from glass and fixed to a plinth of its own, a tube-like box held something that made his gut sink straight to the floor, his head swimming and mouth running dry.

Inside this glass box-like thing was an orb.

"I've seen you before..." he muttered to himself, making several staggered steps over to it. The glass had been broken on the capsule, but the orb looked relatively intact, meaning it couldn't have been the same from his vision. He reached out and carefully picked it up within his paws, the surface of it covered in a fine film of wetness that he wiped away. It looked uncanny. As though he had indeed been holding the very same orb from in the middle of an icy wilderness, yet here it was now within his paws, sitting in his grasp. It felt so strange to be holding it, not knowing quite what to do. He stood there just gazing at the white mist that swirled inside, transfixed by the lighting zaps that fogged up the sphere.

He turned it over in his paws, examining it from every angle, until he finally found what he'd been most dreading.

There, as clear as day running along the orb's surface, was a crack. He just must not have seen it from its podium, but there it was. No longer was just something similar to his visions, but it was exactly the same. The one from the icy wilderness was the orb he held now. He frightened him to know that. How could the two be connected, how could he be at both places at once? Would he be transported there shortly? But then who was Adam, and why did he remind Stevarn of Aydame? And who did that make John then? There were some many questions, and nothing was answered. It made no sense to the poor wolf, he felt utterly out of his depth. His Gods had abandoned him Aydame was bleeding to death, and here he was trying to comprehend his existence.

Stevarn traced his fingers on his left paw around the crack's edge, not quite touching it but circling it all the same. It felt important. So very terribly important, but he just quite couldn't see it all just yet. He had the wrong perspective. The dreams had to mean something; his life had to mean something. It couldn't just all be some accident.

His finger touched the exposed crack, and a bolt of green light blinded him, a stinging pain flaring up along his arm. The orb was thrown from his grasp and clattered onto the floor, rolling away from him whilst he was slammed against a wall, his back impacting against the metal and glass. The wind was knocked from him, and a searing agony scored up along his left arm, leaving him to clutch at the limb whilst some kind of piercing heat seeped under his skin.

He stayed motionless for some time, groaning from the pain until he could finally muster the strength to sit up. It took all his effort to get into a comfortable position, his body weak and unable to use his left arm. He wanted to cry out, but all he could manage was some strangled sobs and gasps. He just breathed through the pain, his vision clearing from a blaring green haze until finally he could see again. Immediately he went to inspecting his arm, looking for the signs of damage, but he found nothing life-threating. His fingers smouldered a little from where he'd made contact with the orb's crack, but beyond that, those were the only painful injuries he could see. What did scare him though were the eerie green globs that glowed beneath this skin. They weren't in his fur, and not matter how hard he scrubbed or licked at them, they refused to go away. A few thin veins of emerald green traced up along his left arm from his wrist, imbued with some kind of magical force, and apparently did no harm to the wolf's life - a gift from the Gods perhaps, some kind of healing magic.

The God projection started up again, this time flickering to the same man only he looked older, weary almost,

"Professor Jorin reporting to Captain Traem. The orb that was activated on planet Earth seems to be developing nicely in the new orbit we've given it. Whilst we can all breathe a sigh of relief that that thing is no longer aboard the ship, I recommend we at least wait to see that life evolves as normal. I cannot predict what the orb will create since it has been afflicted with the anomalous coding, which I am now naming the Jorin Glitch, but I want to make sure that it's not some twisted new form of life. We can't have that kind of indecency on our hands now, can we? It will give me time anyway to pay closer attention to the first orb we picked up, at the very least, the one with the broken exterior shell."

Stevarn understood every word. It was as though this Jorin man was speaking in his tongue, only it was Stevarn's language as well. He knew so much more now, not that he could process it all, but he knew what the professor was saying. This orb, or another like it, had formed there planet... or supposedly, that's what he was saying. An orb activated on... Earth? He had dreams of an alien world... perhaps this was the icy wilderness? Maybe that was it. He couldn't have been sure. None of it made any sense. It was all so confusing and the wolf's head hurt trying to slot it all into place. He lifted himself back up unsteadily and went across the room, picking the orb back up off the floor. It couldn't have been surely...

He returned to the plinth on which Professor Jorin stood upon, tapping at the glass. It glowed faintly, but displayed alien words that Stevarn could just about make out. He selected the ghost to the play the next recording,

"Jorin to Traem. I regret to inform you but we have a problem. Privately, between you and me, the cracked orb is showing signs of the same anomalous coding that the first one had. I don't understand it. The first was a glitch, nothing more - just a dud terraforming extrapolator. But if the second orb is now exhibiting the same glitches... it can't just be a coincidence. We need to stay in orbit of the planet so I can conduct further tests; otherwise we might take a potentially deadly time bomb right into the heart of the Order. I won't allow it."

Stevarn pressed a button on the console to go to the next recording, looking nervously at the ball within his paws. Was it dangerous to be holding it?

"Jorin to Traem. I've just learnt that you ordered an expedition down to the planet's surface. When I said I needed to conduct more intimate tests, I didn't mean breaking the isolation protocol. Now I hear that a whole pack of these anthropomorphic wolves have confronted and converged with the away team. We're under First Contact regulations now... I expect you to follow protocols this time around; you won't get Cadet Stacy-Mina to step in and pull your asses from out of the fire like this time. According to her, they now worship us like gods, thinking the ship in orbit is our home or something like that. She even reports that Cadet Damon accidentally spooked some horse-like beings who'd come to investigate the landings and had to open fire upon them to protect himself. I refuse to allow further contact on this basis that it is simply too dangerous to the lives of crewmembers. We could also drastically contaminate and disrupt the natural progression of life on this planet - which I believe they call Divinia. We will leave as soon as possible."

Stevarn felt numb - incredibly and utterly numb. His whole world had shattered around him, realising for the first time in his life the painful truth.

There are no such things as Gods.

So... all that he'd ever believed was a lie. He was free to bed with any person he chose, regardless of their species or sex. He was free to live his life the way he decreed, and not by that of some passed down ramblings of priests long forgotten. Their whole lives had been based upon lies, upon superstition, upon these men and women who had merely come from a world beyond their own and imposed themselves as gods by accident. Stevarn felt sick, almost not wanting to continue through the recorded messages, though he now realised he should. Nothing felt worth it anymore. The whole purpose for coming here was to meet his creators and seek forgiveness, to seek aid. Now he realised he'd get neither, and that his whole pilgrimage was a pointless trek. Aydame's life was now in danger and Stevarn had no clue what to do to save him...

He had to continue though...

"Joirn to..." There was a heavy bout of coughing, the man's body hunched over as he hacked up into a piece of cloth. He looked old, far weaker than the first recording. He seemed to barely stand up, leaning all his weight upon a stick to keep him upright. "Jorin to Traem... The orb is now exhibiting all the same anomalous coding that the Divine orb had been. Its identical now to the one I'd picked up upon Earth, there's no mistaking it. Something is very wrong, and I'm not sure I understand what... It has also only come to my attention that the crack within the orb has activated some pocket of underlying coding that I've only just unearthed... It's taking in minute levels of energy at the subatomic level. Brief exposure does little damage to substances, but prolonged contact with the orb results in degradation of substances, including that of genes and the alloy the ship is made from. From my calculations we should..." There was a violent explosion off camera, unseen to Stevarn, but it seemed to shock Jorin who looked away, covering his face as another blast was heard, "Holy shit!" There were other voices screaming, the sound beginning to crackle as the feed broke up, "I'm burnin-... brace for impa-..." The rest was unintelligible.

After that, there were no more recordings. That last one had left Stevarn with nothing else to do but stand in the middle of this alien ship and wonder what he could do next. He had to do something about the orb... If what the professor said was true, than anybody who kept the sphere around would surely die from it. This vessel had escape pods, surely... He could use one. Not that he knew how they operated, but the orb had shown him much, of the ship's schematics, of what he would have to do. This, he felt, was ultimately his peractia, as hollow as that feeling was, it was something he now felt obliged to do. If the lions got their paws on the orb... who knows what they would do. If one orb nearly ended a planet, then so could this one. He would not have the likes of Jorr'an doom everyone upon Divinia. To keep everyone safe, he would have to take one of the pods and heave it into the sea, where it would sail right off the edge of the world, gone forever.

Placing the orb back down upon the podium, Stevarn felt he should go tell Aydame the news he'd learnt. The stallion would be most intrigued to hear that the demon he'd been so fearful of turned out to be some equally terrified man who'd been scared by some of his herd.

He picked his way back through the ship, knowing the path as if it had been ingrained into his mind all along, and snuck back out through the hull. Fresh sea air welcomed him back to the real world, and morning light struck out across the bay. He saw Aydame still lying on the rock, off in the distance, and so he climbed back up to the horse. Stevarn wondered what he'd make of it all. Part of him believed the stallion wouldn't be so rattled by the news, more relieved if anything that the evil spirit he'd been raised to perceive as a child was now just meaningless superstition. As far as he knew from what Aydame had told him, their faith was not so intrinsic to the burning ship.

Stevarn neared the horse's resting place and jumped up the last new rocks to get to his side,

"You're not going to believe what I've found out." He laughed, slumping down beside the horse. Aydame didn't answer him, so Stevarn continued, "So the God Star? Apparently, not a star at all, or full of gods. Just a ship. Like a boat, only it can fly. Sounds weird, I know, but get this, they're just normal people, or so I think - nothing powerful about them at all. No god, no demons, just people like you and me." Still no response. Deathly silence. "Aydame?"

Stevarn looked over his shoulder at the stallion, shaking his shoulder. No response, and a lifeless shake. Aydame's eyes were closed. He wasn't breathing.

"Aydame...?"

The wolf turned onto his side, kneeling down in front of the horse and taking him by the shoulders to put him back into position. He leant an ear down to Aydame's mouth, listening for the breath, watching for the familiar rise and fall of his chest. There was nothing.

"Aydame. Stop it."

Silence.

"No, Aydame, stop it."

Silence.

"Aydame stop it right now!" Stevarn choked, "Stop it, please, no."

Silence.

"No, no ,no, Aydame wake up! Aydame, this isn't funny, wake up!" Tears fell fast from the wolf's face, who desperately tried to beat life into the horse.

Silence

"PLEASE!" He screamed, sobbing into the male's chest, thumping it with his chest "Aydame, please! Please don't leave me... Please, I love you, please say I love you, just one more time... Please call me your puppy, Aydame please..."

Silence.

"Please..." Ragged sobs filled the quiet air.

Silence.

Stevarn fell silent too.

Please...

Please what?

Please don't die.

Stevarn couldn't remember the next hour or so. The sun rose as if nothing mattered, the sea rolled in as if nothing had changed, the world still went on as if everything was okay. Stevarn just sat there, wrapping himself in the cold, limp arms of his only true love and wept openly, silently, just watching the dawn of the day come on. He had work to do of course, but he was in no rush to do it. The lions would kill him anyway. He would soon join Stame... That was wrong. He'd soon die. He'd just die. Much like Aydame, his heart would stop beating and he'd stop breathing and he'd fall deadly silent. He missed that most from Aydame, the sound of his heartbeat. The warmth of his chest against Stevarn's wet cheek would be a miracle, and for all that he'd done, it hadn't been worth it. Aydame was dead. It was over.

Lifting himself free of Aydame's cold embrace, Stevarn tidied up his body into a peaceful posture, folding his arms in his lap and brushing his limp mane from his eyes, making him look just as beautiful as he always had been. When he was satisified he'd done the stallion justice, he stood back, trying to find the strength to sniffle out the words he'd promised to say,

"Unto the Herd you go, Aydame..." his voice was quiet, barely audible over the roar of the tide, "to every stallion..." Stevarn cried out, "FUCK..." he controlled himself before continuing, "...and mare before you. They will welcome you on..." he took a pause, his voice strangled by grief as he tried to mourn in dignity, "...on the other side and bring you into their embrace. You shall be forever remembered, never forgot." Stevarn breathed out a loud exhale, eyes wet and red with tears, his throat hurting from the wails, "Just so you know, Aydame, though our time together was brief... I always loved you. Right from the moment I met you, I couldn't help but feel safe... loved. It was weird, and I didn't understand then, but I know now. You were my sanctuary for when everything went to shit. I love you Aydame, forever and always..." Stevarn wiped the tears from his eyes as he blurted the words out, nose running, "May we meet again soon..."

He turned his back to the stallion, knowing now that this time, it was at the right moment, not when he was still alive. He sighed again, regretting already his decision to come to this place. But he had a job now, a purpose. He would not die without fulfilling his peractia.

Stevarn made his way back to the ship, stepping inside once more and tracking back to the chamber he'd found the orb in. He picked it up from where it had been left, turning it about in his paws. It was something he had to do...

The escape pods lined the tail of the ship. As Stevarn tried to make his way through the corridor, he found many of them to have already been launched, others in disrepair and some just downright destroyed. There was one, but it had been partially deployed. The male had to head back outside and find the pod still connected by tethers and wound cables to the ship. Stevarn took his dagger and began to cut them away, releasing the metal spike that was designed to hold a single person, hacking at the chords until he felt the weight of the pod give and it lurched down the rocks. Sharp screeching as metal ground along stone shrieked into the sea breeze, but Stevarn didn't care. His whole body was cold, wet, and numb, covered in dried blood and dirt, exhausted beyond belief and now left to save the world alone. He stumbled down to the pod, his paw running across its jagged surface, looking for a latch until he found it, yanking at the hook which gave the whole thing a great hiss. More gas and smoke billowed out from its edges as the glass panel across its face began to slide away, revealing the cushioned insides for where a person might have gone.

Stevarn took the orb and placed it upon the lining of the chamber, letting it down gently into its new confines before he let the door slide shut again. That was his first task complete, now came the gruelling part.

Taking up a position behind the pod, Stevarn grunted and yelled as he did his best to push the object down the bay, heaving it with all his might that he could muster. He was weak though, the weight of the pod too heavy for him to move alone. Aydame might have helped him. This job was perfect for him... But he was gone. It was up to the wolf. Rage bubbled up inside him like a bad meal, threatening to spew out at any second. Stevarn just roared with anger that his mate had been robbed of him, by a lion no less, and left him utterly alone in this miserable stupid world. He growled as he began to shove the pod at a slow but steady speed down the bay, his whole body screaming for him to stop but his mind caught up in a blustering frenzy. His footpaws were bleeding, his paws cut along the metal and stone, his muscles overworking themselves, but it was all just recompense to Stevarn. He deserved the pain and the sadness. As the pod touched the water and began to get swept out by errant tides, he stood there in the wet sand and thought of how much shit he'd been through to get to this point, alone and afraid at the end of the world. His paw reached out into thin air where he believed Aydame's spirit stood, believing that at least for the horse, there was an afterlife - somewhere where they could be happy together - If only for them and no one else.

The view was beautiful, but they were a pretty good contender.

Stevarn huffed back his breath as he wiped himself down, washing the nicks in the salty water, wincing at the sting but ignoring it for the most part. He at least would be relatively clean when he finally was killed. The lions must be soon approaching. They'd find nothing though; nothing but a wreckage of their beloved Sky Guardian. After having half their tribe slaughtered by the horse and wolf pair, then following a piss-stained trail right up to their treasured faith, only to find out its utterly worthless, that brought a small smile of vindication to the wolf's face.

He collapsed into the sand, sitting down alone on the strewn beach looking out across the sea. It was all finally over. Whatever task he'd found had been accomplished, he had gone further than any before, and now he sat here at the end and looked back upon all that he'd achieved. The quiet breeze rolled across his face and he let his eyes slide shut. He had to focus, for one last issue didn't quite fit.

Drifting away, Stevarn envisioned once again the dreams he'd had. Lives he somehow knew but had never quite lived. It hurt to think, but there was little else to do now. Slowly, the beach faded away, peeled back by ebbs of green until it became replaced by a new world. When the wolf let his eyes open, he was greeted by a sight he thought he'd never see again...

A memory from his childhood, long before anything that should have been possible to retain; he stood at the shore of a lake, a small island in the centre of it connected by a thin bridge erected by whomever now occupied the land mass. Stevarn knew the place well. His parents had told him stories of Lake Gemino, of how the pack had come to take the Ko family into the fold of the wolves. But this felt wrong... the wrong time. Stevarn squinted out across the lake and saw a towering building slowly rise up out of the ground, the sounds of gunfire and mortar shells filling the air. Fire churned around him, creeping up from all sides until it was impossible to escape. He couldn't get away. None of them could... Everything was burning, burning and burning...

He clutched at his head, feeling the intense pain as though something monumental was racking his skull, and the agony flared into a bright whiteness that consumed everything in the wolf's head. He wanted to scream out, but his voice was silent, and then... nothing. Utter silence, where no pain existed, an infinite expanse of white tinged with a green hue. Stevarn rose to his footpaws unsteadily, his legs weak and his body tired beyond belief. Somebody was there. They weren't calling him, but he sensed they wanted his attention. But there was just deafening silence and the oppressive blankness. Looking around, it was all there was, beginning to feel claustrophobic as Stevarn wondered that perhaps this was death, a total emptiness where nothing was, nothing but himself all alone. He didn't want to be alone... He wanted Aydame.

As though his wish were being granted, the stallion appeared from a swirl of fragile mist. He looked healthy, happier now that he was out of pain, and smiling at the wolf. Stevarn wanted to rush over to him, to jump into his arms and refuse to let go, but as he was about to make a run for him, the horse held up his paw, stopping him dead in his tracks. The wolf looked confused, trying to speak but his voice refusing to come out. All Aydame did was merely shake his head, and then his form began to flicker, shuttering between different images of different men. A bald creature like Jorin, only having a better pelt which covered more of his body, then to the beast Stevarn had seen down by the river's shore, during his and Aydame's mating. Then it flitted back to the stallion himself for a moment more until his fur began to drain of colour, bleeding into black and white stripes. Foreign clothes appeared all over his body, some kind of bizarre armour pinned with metal discs and trinkets. He gave a gesture with his paw, bringing it up sharply to his head. All Stevarn knew was that it was a sign of respect, of honour... He found himself returning the motion, his arm acting upon its own accord. Stevarn wanted to ask so many questions, about what was going, about who they all were, about what lay in store for them, but he had a deep feeling, right in the pit of his gut, that they would meet again... Perhaps not in the fashion he wanted most, but something beyond his comprehension was at work. Aydame came back into focus, smiling apologetically until his body began to get drawn away, pulled by some invisible hand that dragged him off into the white abyss. Stevarn tried to shout out, he tried to move again, but something clutched at his own being and hurled him back, back away from the stallion's disappearing soul.

Inhaling sharply, he opened his eyes, greeted with the sight of the beach once again, a dull throb tapping at the back of his head. It was time...

He stepped back up to be by Aydame's side, sitting back down in his lap and putting his arms around the horse. He didn't care if he wasn't there; just being near him was enough. He still had that rich scent, unmistakably his, and his fur was still just as luxurious to feel against his own. He surrounded himself as best he could in the stallion, knowing that Aydame was looking over him, watching in these final moments and waiting. They had come too far to be separated now. Stevarn decided that if he was to die, it would be in these arms and nowhere else. He wasn't as alone as he thought, even as he heard the riotous calls of the lions approaching from afar; he had Aydame to protect him. Burrowing his face deep into the male's chest, fighting back the tears as he accepted the inevitable, he waited patiently for his demise.

He smelt fire first, approaching from the same direction as the lions. The maniacs had lit the forest on fire in order to snuff them out. The flames crawled along the tockle trees and towards the beach. Flames licked and chewed their way onto the beach just as Stevarn had seen them so many times before, attempting to swallow him whole. They always brought death upon him, threatening his very being, but now he was ready to give up. He could feel the heat, overwhelming and intense, bearing down upon them both. He didn't try to fight back. He didn't try to move. He lay there, holding Aydame as tightly as he could because he was so terribly scared, even when knowing that this had to happen sooner or later. He muffled his frightened sobs into the horse's chest as he imagined them back in some safer place, working his mind desperately to create a small sanctuary where for just one moment he and Aydame could be happy; a small hut, in the middle of nowhere, just the two of them with nobody to hunt them down or slaughter them. Life was simple, pure, and good, and he couldn't have been happier. Seeing Aydame, standing proudly in the morning light, holding out a paw for the wolf to take. Stevarn reached out, ready now to take the stallion's grasp and step up into the dawning light. The lions swarmed upon the beach, but Stevarn paid them no attention as he drifted off into his deepest sleep, calm in Aydame's presence, and let the flames consume him. He designed the dream for once. No longer would he have nightmares. He would have paradise, and nothing less. The fires were upon them now, tearing away at his fur and eating into his skin, Aydame's body glowing until it was churning beneath the blaze; it was all just as he had envisioned before, finally realised in his life, and he welcomed the sensation like an old friend. Lives long forgotten came into focus as he burnt, his life slipping away until he drew his final breath, joining Aydame as his body became nothing but ash. But sanctuary did not come. He felt himself drift, not to some perfect haven, but into oblivion, heading elsewhere as he died in the flames. Stevarn wanted to fight, but there was little struggle left in him to keep away the tides of fate.

He died in fire for the first time.

To be continued...