“Um it was Charles, Lord Dimitri’s brother”, Morgana stated confused, why would they do that?
“Excuse me? Can you please say that again?”, Marcellus said shocked, “Lord Dimitri’s fucking brother had been the one doing this all along”, he barked out angrily.
“Alpha relax”, Alex and the other warriors tried calming him down.
“Don’t tell me to calm down in a situation like this, we are in good terms and they are busy killing us slowly without we even finding out”, he stated angrily to them, “carry his body, we are talking him back and he will have a proper goodbye”, Marcellus ordered sadly, his blood boiling with anger as they left for home.
It took them some hours and they were finally back, most of the Pack members were expecting to see the warrior alive or the Alpha with a good news but as they went into the Pack, they could feel the sadness and anger radiating of him.
The pack compound was alive with activity as the moon rose high in the sky. Werewolves milled about, chatting and laughing, while others trained and honed their skills. But one woman, the warrior’s mate, stood off to the side, her eyes fixed on the entrance of the pack. She was waiting for news about her mate, who had gone missing and the Alpha and his people had gone to look for him.
Finally, she saw the Alpha, Luna and his warriors coming in, some carrying a body. The warrior’s mate heart sank as she realized that they had found her mate. She rushed up to them, her eyes pleading for good news.
“Please, tell me you found him,” She said, trying to keep her voice steady.
Alpha Marcellus and Luna Morgana, looked at her with a solemn expression. “I’m sorry, dear”, Alpha Marcellus said. “We found his body. He was killed”.
The warrior’s mate felt her world shatter as the Alpha’s words sunk in. She stumbled backward, her legs giving way as she fell to the ground. The warriors gently laid the dead warrior’s body at her feet, and his mate gasped as she saw the lifeless form of her mate.
Tears streamed down her face as she cried out in anguish, the pain of her loss overwhelming her. The other members of the pack gathered around her, offering their condolences and support as she grieved for her mate. She couldn’t believe that her mate was gone, and the thought of life without him filled her with despair. She continued sobbing, Luna Morgana knelt down with her and held her tight as she cried out painfully. It was a sad moment at the Phoenix Pack, hearing cries of their pack members.
The warrior’s mate stayed by his side, holding his hand and whispering words of love to him. She knew that life would never be the same without him, but she also knew that she had the support of her pack to help her through the dark days ahead.
They finally took the body and Luna Morgana helped her up, they will before a befitting goodbye for the loss of a great warrior.
As the evening drew near, the werewolf pack gathered in the clearing, where a solemn mood filled the air. They were preparing to bury their great warrior, a member of the pack who had served with loyalty and bravery for many years.
The pack had already prepared the burial site, a shallow grave dug into the earth, lined with branches and adorned with flowers. The scent of freshly turned earth and blooming flowers filled the air, as the pack members gathered around the grave.
The pack leader, a fierce and imposing man, Marcellus , stood at the head of the grave, his eyes fixed on the assembled pack. He wore a simple black tunic and trousers, his fur shining in the light of the setting sun. Marcellus had a solemn expression on his face, a testament to the seriousness of the occasion.
The other pack members wore similar outfits, all in shades of black and grey, a sign of respect for their fallen comrade. The female werewolves had adorned themselves with flowers and other natural decorations, a show of their mourning and respect for the departed warrior.
As the sun began to dip below the horizon, Fenris raised his head and let out a mournful howl, signaling the start of the ceremony. The other werewolves joined in, their voices blending together in a haunting melody.
The pack members then began to move towards the grave, carrying with them various objects, each one symbolizing something different. Some carried branches and leaves, representing the cycle of life and death, while others held small stones or crystals, symbolizing the strength and resilience of the pack.
As they reached the grave, each pack member placed their object carefully around the edges, creating a circle of symbols and offerings for their fallen comrade. The scent of the flowers mingled with the earth and the crisp evening air, creating a poignant atmosphere. His mate was in tears and tried controlling herself but she couldn’t control how the tears flowed out of her eyes freely.
Marcellus stepped forward once again, his eyes scanning the assembled pack. “We are gathered here today to honor the life of our beloved pack member,” he said, his voice filled with emotion. “He was a true warrior, a loyal friend, and a fierce defender of our pack. We will never forget his sacrifice, his bravery, and his unwavering commitment to our cause.
The other werewolves nodded in agreement, their faces solemn and respectful. Alpha Marcellus continued, “Let us now offer our final respects to our fallen comrade. Let us howl one last time, in honor of his memory.”
With that, the pack members raised their heads and let out a final, mournful howl, their voices echoing through the clearing and into the surrounding forest. The sound carried on the evening breeze, a haunting tribute to their fallen comrade.
As the howl died away and after Alpha Marcellus’ speech, the next to step forward was the warrior’s mate, a fierce and determined she-wolf named Lupa. She wore a black ribbon tied around her neck, a symbol of her grief and mourning.