well.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

In his actual time as a grown-up bull, Kesuk trembled. He had no idea if it was from crying or from the freezing air around him, but he did.

Those days were gone and not going to come back.

Hot tears ran down the caribou’s frozen cheeks, leaving dark trails. He had lost everything that had mattered to him. His father was gone. Not gone as in gone away, but gone as in dead. He had sacrificed himself for his son’s freedom. In a moment of hopelessness, he had plunged himself at a man who was blocking their path and gotten a bullet in return.

Kesuk could still remember how his father’s eyes had opened widely in shock and pain, how crimson blood had streamed down his shoulder before he fell. Another wail of tears escaped him.

And he, Kesuk? He had been frozen in shock until his mother had snapped him out of it. And he had run off like a lunatic. But instead of fulfilling his father’s wish, he had spent precious time on saving his crush. When he had stumbled to follow her, he had somehow injured his leg. It wasn’t broken, but sprained and hurt bad enough.

And then, he had run off, leaving behind his mother, his dead father and his best friend. He would see none of them ever again. He had no idea why he hadn’t gone back. He had tried, but the desperate look in his mother’s eyes had kept him from it.

His crush Buniq, a beautiful milky chocolate cow with white and dark brown socks, dark grey markings, a white belly and chest and calm emerald eyes, and he had just adjusted to the new situation when one bull appeared who destroyed the faint feeling of safety.

Tornuaq.

Tornuaq was a strong bull, grey with a black head and markings, black socks and reddish-brown eyes. He had always desired Buniq as his mate, partly because she was the only cow of their age around, and thus, he had never liked Kesuk.

And this was the perfect moment to claim her as his. Kesuk was a good fighter, he had practiced a lot with his father, but he was injured and weakened. But Tornuaq appreciated that the other bull still stood his ground.

But in the fight, he had still caused him some injuries on his sides and his neck, and he supposed that Kesuk’s leg was even worse now. No matter if he had stayed or not, it was unlikely Kesuk would survive, so he had herded Buniq away to avoid that she had to watch her friend die.

Kesuk sighed. It was no use, he would probably not survive the night.

But father died for me.

He couldn’t give up. Not after what Tunerk had done for him. He was sure his father wanted him to move on, he had always said if he ever fell to a predator, he would fall fighting. And he did. So Kesuk supposed he should do that, too.

With new strength flowing into him from that thought, he raised his had, a determined expression on his face. Although it hurt, he stretched his front legs and leaned on them, putting as less weight on his hind leg as possible.

It took him some time to stand, and he trembled from weakness, but he was not about to give up. He just couldn’t.

He would survive this. Happier times would come.