Flint rose her head suddenly at the snap of a branch behind her, the bones snapping in her mouth as she jerked away. Clumpy blood dripped from her fur as she raised her head with pride and began to meander away. Her brain was empty, the thoughts in her head slipping away from her like a salamander slipping in mud. I can't think, I can't feel, I can't control. She suddenly thought, an uncanny feeling to Flint now. Her paws began to speed up beneath her, now at a steady, maybe even speedy trot."I can't think, I can't feel, I can't control," Flint whispered. The words sent a surge of realization through her, followed by a wave of excitement, but mainly thrill. "I can't think, can't feel, can't control!" Flint called aloud, almost singing out her words. Unknowingly, her paws began to pick up underneath her until she was cantering, then sprinting, then bounding through the woods, paws gliding over the forest floor like they never had before. "I CAN'T THINK, I CAN'T FEEL, I CAN'T CONTROL!" Flint shouted, rushing through the trees so fast everything was fuzzy. Flint was bursting into laughter now, her low and booming chuckles piercing the wall of silence that seemed to constantly loom over the woods. Even the sound of the other wolves paws falling on the ground was silent. The only sound was birds and squirrels chirping, or the occasional cry of a deer once it had been taken down. Not Flint though, she didn't stay silent, she tried to be loud. The only thing that kept Flint sane was the sound of her own paws, her voice, even her growl. "I can't, I can't, I can't..." Flint sighed, crashing forward and toppling to the ground, her sides heaving. Flint still laughed and giggled until it escalated into sobs, which were short and cracking, yet rid of tears. Flint wept until her voice gave out and became so low and raspy that not even she could hear it. She rose to her paws with a grunt before she could begin sobbing again. Her ears neither pricked nor pulled back, and her tail hung behind her limply as she stumbled forward. All sounds drowned out, she could only hear the subtle sound of her own pawstrides falling on the dry leaves and cool grass beneath her. She continued forward past her pack's territory until the white trees surrounded her, and soon she was facing the thick wall of trees. She could smell the dull stench of death just beyond the leaves. After just a moment, Flint turned tail and paws, and without a word, she began to trot off to the south where slight slivers of darkness slipped through the tall trees and branches. Only now did Flint realize it had broken dusk again, and the sky above was shining with stars. Ever since the first death, Flint stopped thinking about the time, whether the sky was bright or dark, or even if she slept or not. It was as if the concept of time never existed to Flint.
Soon Flint had reached the very edge of the forest. For the first time in her life, she was nearing the edge, the other side would be like an entirely different world. Flint looked behind her, then sprinted forward and slipped out from between the trees.

The first thing that surprised Flint was how the ground beneath her paws felt. The pebbles on the ground nestled themselves in her paw pads, and the finer sand coater over her paws. Flint looked up from her paws, and her eyes became as wide as a tree stump. She couldn't help but let out an audible gasp as her paws stumbled forward, taking her with them. Right in the middle of the rocky terrain was a vast crack in the ground, and from what Flint could see, it went down for ages, Flint could scarcely see the bottom. She stepped forward again, so close to the opening in the ground she could poke her head in. Flint poked her head to the left and pressed her chin to the edge. She let out a small yip of a bark and listened as it echoed throughout the gaping chasm. She opened her mouth a bit wider and scootched further above the edge. She then let out a louder, more gruff bark, and listened as it bounced off the cold walls of the ravine. Her front paws were now almost completely over the edge, but Flind just couldn't help herself. Flint let the echoes of her barks carry on for a moment before she gave a long and deep howl which echoed for what felt to Flint like an eternity, the pitch going every which way until Flint could no longer hear it. Tch, Tch! Flint heard the earth shifting beneath her and slowly falling away from the edge. Flint's stomach dropped like it never had before, and in a desperate attempt to save herself, she jumped to her left and landed with a hard thump. Panting, she arose and scampered as far away as she could from the edge. She gave a gentle sigh of relief and rolled onto her back. She stared at the milky black sky, where the leaves of tall trees no longer shrouded her view. Flint knew she should have been smiling, or anything besides the cold and empty feeling inside of her. She felt dread, too, knowing she had lost the one wolf she cared for most, one who she would never sleep beside again. Although that feeling was short-lived, she quickly realized it didn't feel as bad the longer she thought about it.
Things were meant to be this way, she thought to herself suddenly. Nothing felt necessarily wrong, everything felt right to her.
"Maybe," she whispered softly, "maybe it just happened prematurely." Flint gave a dry smile as she stared up at the stars that speckled the sky, glowing bright as diamonds. "Fortunately, the stars aligned in my favor," Flint remarked, and with a final glance at the stars and the moon which lit up the night, she heaved herself up. She hurriedly scurried away to where the trees could cover her. Suddenly, however, she could hear a faint barking in the distance. Slowly, Flint began to stalk out of the trees until she was back at the edge of the ravine again. She made sure to keep her paws a safe distance from the steep and sloping edge. Her eyes narrowed, and she could make out the faint outline of wolves in a small group, although they looked as if they had never missed a meal. Her eyes drifted to the left, where a square wooden structure stood, and she could tell it was crafted by wood from the forest, as it was so dark it seemed black. On the top of the structure was a stone pole that jutted from the top, and branches of gray smoke ran from inside. Flint scoffed as the wolves play-fought, or maybe even real fought for all she cared.
"Such mindless wolves. I'm surprised any smart wolf came from that pack... Well besides, the moment a superior wolf was afoot he showed his true weakness." Flint snarled as she picked up a forepaw and began to bound away, back to the trees which protected her, and back to her den, which she slept in for the first time in a while.