InsaneJournal

Sometimes he would just stand there - eyes closed remembering what it was like before. The street was quiet, dead really. Beneath his feet the pavement was cracked, broken like egg shells. But when he closed his eyes it came to life. He can remember the quiet laughter of children in the park, their screams of joy as they found perfection in the swings or slides. He can remember the clickclick of women’s shoes on the pavement behind him. The rumble of cars which pass, how their speed would lift his coat when he stood here.

When he opened his eyes again all he saw was death. Desolation, something dry and empty. The park was a hollow husk of its once beauty - the trees were beginning to grow, the grass returning but the life and vibrancy it once had was gone. The others were scavenging he could hear their rustle and bustle in the houses behind them - in the corpses of their previous lives.

Rhys could hardly remember what a sunrise looked like - he couldn't remember how it felt to have the light beating against his face. How long had the sky been blackened by the sins of the war? How long had the ash coloured it grey? Too long.

The scent came to him in a rush of wind - mixed in the with gentle fresh scent of the leaves. Wolf. Enemy. His first instinct was Rose -- to find her, protect her. Then his pack. Nostrils flared as he took it in, eyes roaming the park before him. The noise of the houses behind him died and he knew if he turned they would all be watching the park waiting for the intruders to step out.

"Rose?" He would enquire quietly, hoping she would be close but not daring to look around. The need to know she was safe was almost overwhelming but the need to protect his pack, his family grew stronger. Then as an after thought he muttered a soft "Cassie." How could he forget his wife afterall?