# Life is What we Leave Behind Author: wwwerewolf Tags: Death, Human, Lion, Mourner, So Long, Wolf, the end The final book in The Hunters series. This has been great, but everything has to end somewhere. And this is it. Don't have a clue what's going on? Welcome to the hunt. Start with the first book! Great new cover curtsey of Negger Comments and critiques are welcome. Well folks, it's been a blast but this is the end. # Chapter 10:    Life is What we Leave Behind     I sat there in the wheelchair for the hours it took us to come to dock.     “Are you ready, Wolfy?” Rebecca asked from beside me.  She'd never left my side as I sat here.     “Yeah, Babe,” I said.  My voice was stronger now.  “I'm ready.”     She reached for the handles of the wheelchair, but I waved her off.     “No,” I said, shrugging the blanket from me.  “I will not return in disgrace.”     It took what little I had left, but I rose from the chair.  Holding the railing before me in a death's grip, I slowly straightened.     And had to hold back a cry.     “I'm ready, Babe,” I said though clenched teeth.  “Let's go home.”     Walking down the gangplank, we'd waited until everyone else had disembarked.  That meant I had all the time I needed.     Jon and Rebecca by my side and Gathii standing behind, I walked sedately down to once again set claw on solid ground.  I never tripped, never swayed, never clung for the rail.     I was home.     There was a small crowd standing before us.  How they'd gotten here I had no idea.     “Dad!”     If Jon hadn't taken a firm hand on my shoulder I would ended up a crumpled heap as Ging and Liz crashed into me.     “Hey,” was all I was able to get out.  “I'm glad to see you too.”     Well, I'm now likely of the few people in V-town who can say they've ridden in our once and only ambulance twice.  Thankfully, this time the sirens weren't blaring.  There was a dalmatian doctor in the back with me.  I may hate the smell of antiseptic, but right now even it was welcoming.     I was once again bound for V-town general.     “So this is your city, Tommy?” Gathii said from his chair behind my bed.  “It is very nice.”     I smiled.  The action was less difficult now that the doctors had me hooked up to enough painkillers to tranquilize a horse.     “You've been given the grand tour?” I asked.     He nodded.  “Yes, your son and daughter have been very accommodating.  They've wanted to know everything about your time in my village.”     I would have laughed, but I knew that would hurt.     “I am concerned, Tommy,” he said, “I... my mission was to prevent you from returning.  It is obvious you will never do that.  I don't know what to do now.”     I reached out and put a too-thin, too-frail hand on his.     “There's a company called Storm Front,” I said.  “You should check them out.  I'm sure they'd be more than happy to hire you.”     When I woke again I could smell flowers.  They were almost enough to cover the pervasive, soul sucking stench of the hospital.     When I opened my eyes I could just as well have said I was in a greenhouse.  Every flat surface in the room was covered thick with vases and cups of water.  I could hardly see the walls through the riot of colors.     And on my chest rested a small red box.     “You're awake.”     I glanced over to see Rebecca sitting on a chair beside me.  Is it wrong that my first thought was 'she looks old'?     Well, it was true.  There were rings under her eyes, winkles on her cheeks, and more grey in her hair than I remembered.  Though she was still dressed in the red leather jacket I so always thought of her in.     I smiled and fought to sit up.  I failed.     “Hi, Babe,” I said.  My throat was rough.     She reached out to the little box on my chest, opening it.     “We had this specialty made for you, Tommy.  I remembered once you said you'd like it.  And,” she fought to work up a smile that looked fake even to me, “I don't think you need any more flowers.”     My nose started twitching immediately.     There was only a single thing in the box.  It was a long strip of dried meat, dipped in something brown.     “Chocolate venison,” she said.     I smiled.     “So,” I said, having to pause for breath between almost every word, “How goes the government, Max?”     The oni sat in a free chair next to Rebecca.  He was just the latest in a long, long line of people come to see me.     I suppose that was what really brought me to understand I would never be walking out of this room.  Everyone I knew was coming here, in single file, dressed in their finest black suits, to say goodbye.     Gods but it was morbid.     “So what will happen now?” Max asked.  “In just one year we're not only losing English, but you as well.  It... it's like we're losing our royalty.”     I sputtered and coughed, then at last worked up a laugh.  It hurt like a bugger, but I laughed.  Straight from my belly.     “Man,” I said, trying to suck in a breath, “That's the best joke I've heard in a long, long time.”     “Hey, Babe,” I whispered, “Did they bring my pack in here with me?”     I heard a rustling, but I couldn't work up the energy to open my eyes.     “It's here, Tommy.  What do you want?”     “My journal.”     A few seconds later I felt a weight come gently down on my hands.  It was all I could do to close my hands around the worn leather.     Taking a deep breath, I opened my eyes.     Opening the book to its final page, I looked at the space left.  There wasn't much.     “Pencil?”     She pressed one into my hand.     I smiled.     My hand was shaking, but I ever so slowly wrote.  I didn't quite fill the rest of the paper, but it was close enough.     I wrote only two words.     The End.     Setting the book and pencil softly on my chest, I laid back.     “Well, Babe,” I said, “It's been a nice run, hasn't it?  I'm surprised I even made it to... how old am I anyway?”     From out in the hallway I could hear two sets of footsteps coming my way.  I'd know Ging and Liz anywhere.     I closed my eyes and let out a breath.     The black at the corners of my vision was growing, something greater than mere darkness.     “Hey, Babe,” I whispered, “Do me a favor.  Give the kids my journal.” # Author's Note Hi everyone,     Well, this is a rather sombre occasion.  For the longest time I thought I'd never get to this day, The Hunters is complete.  It all ends where it all began, this particular chapter of my life is closed.     For those of you in the know, I posted the first chapter of The Hunters the same day I finished writing The Mourner.  It was a form of closure for me.  Unable to find any buyers for my books I posted the stories online in an effort to ensure that someone – anyone – would read them, to make sure the characters wouldn't die with me.     I made myself a promise that day.  I vowed that I wouldn't stop writing, wouldn't stop badgering agents and hounding publishers, wouldn't give up on the dream until I had the complete Hunters series posted.  I made a deal with myself to keep writing until Tommy's story was done, to not give up on my goal of becoming a published author until my first and favourite character was cold in the ground.     Well, this is that day.     Yeah, I'm being over dramatic.  It's not that bad, I've still got a couple final tricks up my sleeve for getting published, but right now the chances are looking slimmer than a Police Dog's paunch.  I really did think that I had what it takes, both the talent and the tenacity, but at some point you have to look around and ask just where the last decade has taken me.  I've yet to see my name in print and my fingers are getting darn tired.     So why am I telling you all this?  Long story short, don't expect to see too many more posts from me in the foreseeable future.  I've now posted all my furry material (with one major exception!), and I'm not sure if I'll be writing much more right away.     It's not all doom-and-gloom though.  This is no rage quit, and I'm not pulling an “I'm leaving the fandom forever!” here.  I just need to figure out the way forward.  For all the bad stereotypes of the community I've made some great friends here.  Two-hundred posts and I haven’t had a single piece of negative feedback.  A huge thank-you to everyone who's commented and chatted with me, not to mention those who have helped me edit and improve my work.  It's been absolutely great meeting you all.     So, what does the future hold for this world-weary-wolf?  (A... wwwolf, if you will.  Now you at last know the secret of what it stands for!)  Good question.  If anyone reading this has any contacts in the publishing industry, I'd love to talk to you.  And, on a related note, there's a good chance I'll be opening myself up for commissions.  I'm not too sure how much interest there will be in commissioning me, so we'll take it one step at a time.     TLDNR Version: Thank-you all for reading, I'm taking a break for a while, and we'll see what the future holds.     So, from Tommy, Rebecca, English, Jon, Max, Griss, Aggy, Graham, Brown, Amstys, Molly, Crit, James, Forty-Two, Richard, Mary, Trevor, Jonathan, Llyal, Sixty, Forty-One, Archer, Forty-Seven, Robert, Alice,  Ophois, Johnathan, Emma, Manson, and me... wwwolf, thank-you for hearing us out. Source: https://sofurry.com/s/pnGzq6jm Part of the series The Mourner Previous: https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/933201-a-royal-welcome.md