Foxglove

"I'm here!" called the familiar voice of Chamise as she rushed into the small erosion den. Her muzzle was still tinged with the red blood of her hunt. 

Foxglove had not been doing well for a few days. Her hunting party was forced to spend that time back at home, and because of that the Children of Erytheis had to hunt for both parties. Chamise had been on a hunt when Hosta found her and delivered the unfortunate news.

And now, she joined her sister in the shallow den. Hyacinth was silent, and her gaze was trained down to her paws. Foxglove was laying on a soft nest of crushed desert grasses wrapped in the pelt of a moose, her most finest hunt. Her breathing was long and shallow. Yarrow and Larkspur had been caring for the ailing dame for some time now, but they knew her time was up.

Foxglove had served the Pride of Atlas well. Her mother came to the pack under Rose's rule, and she was with them when they fled from the mountains and to the desert. Foxglove had grown under the trained hand of Lily, and when Lily passed away, Marigold took over as the lead of the party. When Marigold unfortunately passed, that leadership was passed on to Foxglove. Under Foxglove, the team had reached unprecedented successes, and even though much of the team was greenhorns, their skill and accuracy was feared among prey.

But now, the energy of the great hunter was gone. The light behind her eyes had faded, and her age and ailments revealed the scars dappling her body from years of hard hunting.

Chamise sat close to Hyacinth, hoping to offer her older sister some comfort as they went through this hard time. When she entered the den, Foxglove raised her head and looked towards her daughters. "My beautiful girls." She said.

As Foxglove aged, her bones started to slow her, but her mind was never lost. She looked to her two pups, now grown in their own right, and felt nothing but love and kindness. The she wolf couldn't help but notice the grey fur twinging the muzzle of her oldest. "I love you both more than I could possibly say." Gently, her head fell back onto her paws.

She flicked an ear as two wolves approached the entrance of the den, though neither entered. Their scent wafted into the home gently but surely, and Foxglove wagged her tail once at the memories of the dogs outside.

One of them was Aster, a strong leader (though, maybe a bit airheaded for the position). Foxglove had watched the pup grow from a self conscious mess to a leader who made decisions without hesitation. Pride filled the ailing wolf, even though it wasn't by her doing. The other wolf was a very familiar smell as well. Silverbell, the new dispersal to the pack. "Silverbell, please come here." Foxglove's voice reached.

At once, the wolf entered the den. Silverbell had only been with the Pride of Atlas for a few months now, and just like many of the other wolves, her origin is shrouded in mystery. She didn't talk to anyone for weeks when she joined, until Foxglove went out of her way to befriend her. Now, the pair were very close, and Silverbell even began to spend a lot of time with her daughters, especially Chamise. Hyacinth offered Silverbell a gentle smile when she entered the den.

"Silverbell. You shouldn't have hesitated to enter. You know you are a daughter to me." Silverbell flattened her ears at the dying wolf's words. Her gaze turned to Chamise and then Hyacinth, who both nodded in agreement. 

"You have as much right to be here as we do." offered Hyacinth. Her words did allow Silverbell to relax some.

Foxglove looked at the three wolves sitting next to her. "My loves, it is time for me to go." She said, smiling with her eyes closed. Her tail gave a soft wag.

No words came from the wolves for some time. They watched as Foxglove's breathing drew heavier and heavier, like a pup falling into a milk-induced sleep. 

"Chamise, my quick and beautiful daughter, with all the beauty of her father and all the wit of her mother. Hyacinth, strong and loyal, next leader of the hunt..." Foxglove drew another breath. Her voice was getting quite weak.

"And Silverbell, new to my love and strong despite herself. I will be with you all in the hunt... and we will meet again in the stars." Foxglove finished her words, and her breathing drew even slower, until the huntress fell asleep and her life rushed through the den.

All three of the daughters of Foxglove felt a sensation of warmth starting in their chest and radiating out. It was Silverbell who started a long howl, her voice raising in the song of their mother. Quickly, Hyacinth and Chamise joined in part, their mourning being met with the beauty of their song. From the den, the howl vibrated and echoed out, louder from within. Alone, the daughters sand the story of their mother. Of the mother of wolves and the bane of elk. Of the huntress who would never be bested.

After some time, the three stopped for a breath before raising their voices in song again. This time a ritual, the song of mourning. It was the song that raised her story to the heavens, and helped her spirit find its place in the stars. Hearing their chorus from outside the den, Aster cocked her head back and joined in their song. Hosta looked to the stars, hearing the song of his pack and offered his own voice to its melody. The pupsitters in the den raised their song as well, with Valerian telling her memories of Foxglove, and Gilia mourning for her grandmother. And even from outside of the territory where their words met Phlox and Lopseed, Hyacinth's apprentice, finishing the hunt and returning to home, the Children of Erytheis joined as well.

And as the Pride of Atlas mourned for their loss, careful witnesses would have noticed a new star gracing the sky, like the eye of a mother protecting her pups.