White and Black: Just Like The Days of Old.

The night was dark and the air was thick with the scent of smoke and death. The moon was casting a pale light over the clearing where Melinda and I sat, just outside the cave.

We had built a fire in the center of the clearing to keep ourselves warm.

Melinda and I sat by the fire, with the glow illuminating our faces. The forest was quiet, and the only sounds I was hearing were the crackling of the fire and the occasional hoot of an owl in the distance.

I huddled close to the fire, and the pain of losing Santan, my pup, and even the whole of the Mountain Dew pack to that sinister attack, was gnawing at my heart, making me ache with sadness. Damn, we didn't even make efforts to bury them, laying them on their bare backs in a sacred forest as they do at the Lakewood pack.

It had only been a few hours since I held my little one in my arms, and now I would never get the chance to do so again.

Melinda's eyes were dark and full of pain as she stared into the flames. I still couldn't wrap my