The world around him lit up in a violent flash of yellow, orange and reds, the snow glowing with the force and the heat of the explosion, flying through the air and landing in soggy heaps. Home-made incendiary devices were crude and very messy, but they got the job done, sadly. His arm lit up with pain as the light died down, the shrieks of battle dying down as even the enemy was shocked at the force of their own attack. Idiots, not expecting the explosion to hurt them too, this was close combat! One didn't simply let off an explosive without expecting the explosion.

He whipped his head around as he scrambled to pick up his rifle, searching for a familiar face amongst the surging crowd of angry, roaring Clans- and was relieved to see his sons arms wrapped firmly around an enemy pack members neck, choking him and lowering the struggling fur to the snow, even after having clearly lost the gun Isiat had given him. One thing he could be sure of, Hunter was rarely caught off guard, and the boy always had an out. If there was anything in his life he was proud of, it was the man his son had become under the stress of eventually taking his father and mothers place… If there was a place for him to take after this…

Isiat had been fighting for his territory against this invading Clan for nearly 3 months now, ever since the snow had started falling to signal winters arrival. There had been many battles, and so far they had been able to send them out of their lands every time, but in the end, Frozen Paw Clan was vastly outnumbered by the invaders. If they didn’t end this soon, they would simply outlast them. It had all come down to a numbers game in the end, and the clan simply didn't have what numbers they needed. Quality only beat quantity for so long.

This battle was different, because the sick woman who led the invaders had decided to lay all her cards on the table- she had clearly grown weary of picking these fights and waiting for things to play out- and had brought in her entire fighting force. She had to have every member of her damn Pack here. It was dozens and dozens against a handful of their best, but even the best got worn down after months of fighting.

Isiat had met her fighting force, but it was with a chilled, heavy heart. He wasn’t honestly sure his Pack would come out of this, as it was, he was waiting to see who would be injured, or worse, killed this round. There had already been to many good people meet their ends for this, and all for a bit of territory and the resources it promised.

Isiat wasn’t as young as he’d once been. His muzzle was touched with grey, as was his hair, and each of his 28 tails. He would never admit it, but his joints kept him from moving as swiftly as his son was, and he could feel his bones were far more frail then they had been when he had been a young man… He'd been a commando once. An elite amongst the elite. He'd prided himself on his prowess in combat. The beret upon his head bore the winged dagger, that glorified those who dared risk all.

He was getting old, but that changed very little about his duties. He didn’t complain about what he had to do, and neither did his wife. He liked to think Shadi and himself had taken to growing older rather gracefully, considering they were both still on the battle field, and both had more than earned their share of the glory. His rifle cracked sharply as he felled one of his foes, the shot leaving a stain of red upon the once pristine white snow.

A loud ‘WHUMP’ caught his attention, and he entirely expected to see his little wife snarling into the face of her enemy while she cracked their head open with the solid metal cuff on her damned massive tail. Instead, he caught sight of his beta, Remus, taking his hammer and putting it to damn good use, the big ass Goliathan Wolf swinging his weapon of choice, smearing two Invaders into the snow. Isiat was, as always, relived the male was on his side.

Remus had been their Beta for just as long as Isiat had been Alpha, the black and red, 8 foot behemoth didn't show any signs of slowing down, and he was almost as aged as Isiat, yet he had always known the Goliathan would outlast him somehow. His fur still looked the same as it had thirty some odd years ago when he had met his future Beta. As far as he was concerned, he was his brother. His hammer span and pasted another of their foes against the ground. There was a good reason he had made Beta.

He looked about quickly, a worried frown crossing his features. But if that hadn’t been his wife, where was Shadi? He racked his brain, trying to remember where she’d been before the damned bomb had went off… and he couldn’t remember… He thought she’d been close by, but they had both been occupied trying to lower the number of the enemy in the clearing, and though it would bother him to know, both of them had been keeping one eye on their son too.

“Isiat!” He heard a high pitched shriek from behind him, and turned just in time to have a ball of angry silver fur crash into him, a gash opening alongside his face as the edge of a knife kissed his flesh, sending a searing pain trough his nerves. With the reflexes of the much younger Keynari commando he had once been, he brought up the butt of his rifle and smashed the crazy bitch in the face, sending her sprawling, howling with rage as she rolled over the snow, ending up at Remus’s boots. She scrambled to charge at him again, until the Goliathan wolf lifted one massive foot and placed it on the she-wolf's tail, making her fall face first as he bashed against her spine with the handle of his hammer, before raising it up, intending to turn her into wolf-paste.

Isiat felt a thrill run through him. Taking out the bitch was one sure-fire way to end this shit once and for all, but Raz had been like a fucking ghost, slipping in and slipping out of combat with a deadly smoothness that always got her out completely injury free… The bitch. He swore he'd managed to hit her on more than one occasion, but every time she re-appeared, she was as unhurt as a newborn pup.

He stood for a moment, to make sure Remus finished the job- and felt an urgent sting of impatience when Remus held his hammer up- and paused above the snarling, screaming female, looking over Isiat’s shoulder with a look of confusion, the male's ears going flat with an uneasy stare, his grip on his hammer faltering.

“Mom?” That hadn’t come from Remus, but the sound was just as confused as the wolfs expression. Isiat turned his head, finding his son now struggling to hold his enemy down as his arms loosened around the male, his sights over Isiat’s shoulder. That look, that word... It chilled Isiat to the core more than anything else in the world, colder even than the icy blood in his veins.

His son’s confused calling rang oddly in his ears, as if he were very far away. The snow was silent under his boots as he spun around, his beret tossed from his head and landing limply on the ground, forgotten, unimportant. Isiat took a few steps forward before he was really aware of what he was seeing… and several more steps before he understood what exactly he was seeing, meant...

You always thought that when you went out, it would be in a blaze of glory, or fighting some heroic battle. That last one was a lie, there were never heroics to be had in war, only casualties. Isiat had always pictured himself drifting off one night in his old age and simply not waking up in the morning, his mate by his side.

Death was an ugly thing in war. It reared it's head, and struck without care or regard, it didn't care who you were. All were equal to death, and it was the great equaliser. Death outside a war was like a candle, slowly burning out until the flame simply faded. In war, it was like a great inferno suddenly snuffed of oxygen, the fire of life just suddenly and sharply extinguished in an instant.

He dashed towards the little body, the small fluffy form sheltered from the white winters sun by the shade of a bare tree. Flashes of angry red and burnt clothing came up the closer he got to her, the little feline’s side burnt far beyond what he knew he could repair. The leg turned upwards was likewise ruined, as was the arm laid across it…

Isiat slowed his pace the last few strides, a cold stone settling in his chest. Standing directly over her, he could see that her face at least was untouched… though her head had a gash in the back. She had been thrown by the force of the bomb, and this tree had caught her… Shadi was very small, it was no wonder she’d been carried away by the explosion…

He moved to sink down beside her, his back against the thick trunk of the tree, not feeling it scrape against his fur, nor feeling the blood dripping down his face, or the way his bones protested his descent to the ground. He was careful not to lay his legs over her hair as he made himself damned comfortable beside her, not wanting to pull the long, silky locks.

Carefully, he scooped up her torso and eased it into his lap, cradling her head and chest against his own, turning the burnt half of her body so it wouldn’t scrape against the snow. In an after thought, Isiat shrugged out of his jacket, moving delicately so he did not jar her too much, and carefully pulled it over his wife’s exposed body, shielding her from the cold, and from the battle.

It bothered him, that such a beautiful light had suddenly gone out, like the world itself had suffered a great loss by losing it. That suddenly, all of those plans they had made to spend their twilight years together, growing old and watching their son grow up and start a family of his own... All of them no longer of any consequence. The hopes and dreams they shared, just... Gone. Like that in an instant, the males fire for the battle had been extinguished.

It was strange… But Isiat didn’t feel like crying. He sighed softly, holding the woman he loved against him. Her hair smelled of fire and ash, but he could also smell her own delicate scent under it, and the gentleness of it eased him greatly, sweet like vanilla. Her hair was as glorious as it had ever been, long and untethered in long waves down her body… There was long streaks of white and grey in it now, but it was still as soft as it had been when he had first chased her through the snow, when they had both been almost children, laughing and playing without a care in the world, the two of them on their own team, together for as long as the males memory served him.

Tilting her head back gingerly, so he could look at her face, the Keynari couldn’t help but smile… She could have been sleeping, as peaceful as she looked. That was just like his wife… leaving him to fret and worry while she took a damned nap. So like her, so very Shadi… her muzzle was grey now, and her face was lined… but peaceful as she was, she looked far younger than they were. She had been a beauty in her prime, a true treasure. His gorgeous girl. Even now, she was still as beautiful as he had always remembered her, she had aged with the grace she had always had, that quiet, simply beauty that needed nothing to improve upon it. She was so quiet, as she always had been when she slept, curled against his side, her head against his chest. Not so much as a peep left her until after she had woken up again, but he knew this time she wouldn't be waking.

They were going to retire next year, but they should have done it a while ago if he was being honest with himself. Neither of them wanted their son to take their place too early, and it was worth it to be sure he was ready before the responsibility rested on his shoulders. Isiat and Shadi had taught him everything they had known, Isiat going as far as to spend two weeks drilling him like he had been drilled in basic, teaching him marksmanship and hand to hand, while Shadi had taught him the finer points of archery, how to live off the land, and that refined skill that was diplomacy... Though all the talking in the world couldn't have prevented this conflict.

For the first time since he had bent down to hold his wife for the very last time, he looked over at the fighting before them. Hunter was clearly trying to get away, to come see to his mother, but he Isiat simply shook his head at his son, their pride and joy, telling him wordlessly to stay back. Not this time.

He pulled his wife close against himself, cradling her in his paws, as he gently wiped some of the dirt from her face, smiling down at her like a father smiled at the happiness of his children, content, pleased. She had been by his side 30 some odd years now, but it all seemed so short when he thought about it. Where had the time got to? The male was already close to skirting 60 years, and yet here they had been, fighting for their lives on a battlefield like a pair of damned teenagers, like nothing in the world could have stopped them. They'd come through so much together, but now, it had finally come to a sudden, crashing end. He wouldn't go quietly when he did.

“We had a good run, didn’t we?” He questioned the feline in his arms, bending down to lay a gentle kiss on her nose, then her cool lips. “A great run… Your son is going to do a great job babe, I don’t think we have to worry… He'll be alright, my angel.” He chuckled. He knew why he didn’t feel like crying. Spending the next several years without his wife did not pain him, because he wasn’t going to do it. The prospect of life alone just wasn’t on his agenda. He had loved her with a burning passion, and she had been the most loving, tender touch he had ever cared to know. Their time was cut shorter than he would have liked... But their love had been sweet. He was just a mean old bastard anyway, better to let the young take the burden from his shoulders than being so stubborn as to cling to it long past his time. They'd done a lot together in their time, made great strides for the pack, for their family, and for each other and their relationship. His love burned like an eternal flame. Nothing could ever extinguish that. They'd both live on in memory.

Isiat wasn't surprised when an angry shriek ripped from the rippling crowd of battling people, watching without batting a single eyelash as Raz tore her tail from out under Remus’s boot, leaving a wad of fur behind as she charged for the pair of them suddenly. Remus made a quick swipe for her, but was intercepted by a large looking feline, squaring off against each other.

“Kill them! Kill them now!” She sounded so bloody happy at taking advantage of the weakened Alphas, and frankly, crazy, that it almost made Isiat laugh. Seriously, the crazy ones always found a way into power, didn’t they? Pulling away from their various opponents, Isiat watched without emotion as Shadi and himself became the prime targets for the invading pack, his own Clan blinking in confusion as they were suddenly left alone, the swarm of the enemy pack turning and rushing towards the pair of figures beneath the shade of the tree. What was left of their own pack rallied quickly, trying to stop as many of the rushing group as they could, but they were ignored, their foes charging straight past them, regardless of the wounds they suffered because of it.

Isiat watched without a flicker of fear in his bright blue eyes as the angry pack surged towards them. He was ready now. “Well lover mine, I bet your waiting for me, aren’t cha kitty? One more date with your Foxy…” He murmured to her, his paw slipping into his vest, his finger wrapping around the pin of the powerful RDX grenade he always kept tucked there. He yanked it out without even blinking as his enemy surged around him, the spoon landing in the snow by his feet. Snarling snapping teeth closed in quickly, all soon to be out his pack’s, and his son’s hair. He had a right to start his reign on a good foot… Isiat was more than happy to give that to him. The rival pack entered it's kill radius.

He reached down, stroking his paw slowly through his lovers hair, before picking up his beret, tugging it back on his head, his free paw in front of him opening like a flower's bloom, the grenade laying in his palm, a single snowflake settling atop the steel wrought deliverance.

“And a gentleman is never late for a date…”