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[center][b]In the Mountains, near the city of Alpenrose[/b].[/center]
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[center]The feels of suns' heat still making its appearance through the wildflowers now held the morning snow of the chilled night before. The sun had stood moments ago near blinding whoever it touch, a great form now stood in silhouette with the sun's rays sparkling around it as though on fire. The great Stag stood tall, proud and majestic.

On the back of wild Stag, an unconscious hooded figure with long, soft pink hair framed an oval face with ludicrously long eyelashes; the coldness eating at her spirit. 

The sound of the Hawk "Tawodi", circling overhead, seeking for the prey to feast on. The Stag had spent the better part of dawn making his way up a steep slope of a nearby mountain. The rocks crevice casting images in shadow as the sky appeared making it one of the favorite places to hike and explore at the moment. 

The enormous animal cautiously made it's way down the narrow trail, silently without so much as single twig cracking beneath its feet as though somehow magically walking on air. It shook its massive head of snow, the crown of antlers looking almost too heavy and burdensome to bear. The trail of crimson marked the gaping wound on his hind leg made by a pack of wolves. Minutes later he broke through the thick trees he'd found himself wandering around in. Beyond, a meadow filled with color beyond the minds imagination. Every color of wildflower known to exist had to be within this meadow. A kaleidoscope of brilliant hues that weaved itself like an ever-changing blanket, the wind blowing as colors formed, changed and reformed once again into differing magnificent patterns. One of the many fears for a Stag was being out in the open field, wounded. 

He lifts his head to notice in the far distance, suspension smoke, the very sign he hoped for. [b]Civilization[/b]. Soon, he will be able to seek the help he need for his ill-rider.

It was the sudden piercing howls that broke, sent revelry, fear, panic down his spine as he felt himself free-falling now rather than walking. Tumbling, spiraling out of control, landing hard. Now entering the meadow, not one, but perhaps a dozen or more fierce powerful wolves as they surrounded, then charged the two of them below.

Above him, another cry, another screech as he stood watching the magnificent Hawk above him go into a shallow dive, swooping downwards then peeling off, disappearing behind the ledges above him, reappearing moments later, once again circling, waiting for a taste. 

Dakath nearly made it to his feet when once again he was rocked, his breath knocked from his lungs by the impact as yet another, the biggest of the wolves first appearing. It now sunk its mighty fangs into the flesh of his back. Swimming through the matted once beautiful wildflowers now torn, destroyed, the coppery stench of blood filling the air, no longer the fresh fragrant smells of beauty, but of death. He leaped at the first wolf that had lost interest in him and broken away now charging at the elf, lying a few meters away and for the first time, her eyes fluttered open.

A grunt escape from his throat when the rip and tear of flesh could be seen on the Stag's flanks, yet it turned not away from its victim, choosing instead to impale it upon its horns, tossing it aside, only then turning to face a new and separate challenge even though he grew weaker himself with each passing minute. One by one, he met them all until none was left, though he stood on unsteady legs, dripping with blood. 

His ears twitched, picking up loud, snarling noises along with cries of terror rose in the distance. A crescendo of anger and pain adding to that which Dakath himself felt. Helpless to do anything as he pushed his nose, pawing the earth where a near-lifeless body of his mistress rest. He felt himself growing colder, his legs gave up from under him, it became more and more difficult for him to concentrate, but he willed himself to do so anyway. And with each breath becoming harder, he began to notice a change, he saw the first real intake, then exhale of breath as the elf's breast rose in a renewed fight to survive. Dakath saw the glaze of her eyes begin to dissipate, becoming clearer, even as his own began to fog.


" [color=f6989d]Dakath...[/color]" she whispered weakly, her hand reach to touch the soaked fur. 

He saw her shimmer, the energy of her magic now encompassing them both as the power's light shot upwards, illuminating the sky like a flare. Snow began to fall covering the ground. The soft rich soil beneath them soon soaked.[/center]