The day was not even over yet and Samael could feel he was close to death. That may have been a slight exaggeration, but Samael knew that Teren’s words were right. If he did not get any help from another wolf, he would surely die. He closed his eyes as he made his way into the neutral lands. He ran his body as fast and hard as he could. He did not wish to allow the old wolf the pleasure of being correct. He owed it to his own father, all of his bloodline, to stay alive. Samael finally could run no longer as he reached the shoreline of the lake before him. His body collapsed into the water, feeling the chilled waters hit his exposed flesh. His nose barely reached the top of the water, just enough to breach and allow him a constant flow of oxygen. Samael closed his eyes, shielding them from the constant sunlight. His black coat sucked up the heat, making him feel as though he was walking in a ring of fire. When he opened his eyes, he looked around him to find a pool of blood circling him. ”Is it mine?” he whispered barely audible to himself. He could feel his body in all its weak state. If he tried to move right now, he would not be able to. His ribs along his left side ached and throbbed in pain. If not two, at least one had been broken. Each time he inhaled and exhaled, he could feel the sharp sting. If Samael was to die here, he hoped the Rogues would find him, or the other packs. He hoped they would move his body from sight so that Teren would never know he was right. If the old wolf got that satisfaction, he would feel all his work was in vein. If only he had been able to save Striker, perhaps then things would be better than they were. His heart began to ache, and he was used to this feeling. It was the same when he lost his mother, his siblings, and the day he lost his father. If he ever saw the Lead Healer again, he thought she might attack him herself for not stepping in earlier. He should have never allowed any of that fight to rage on. Instead of allowing the past be, he decided to blame himself for everything that had happened because of Teren. Maybe if Samael had been there on the day with his father, the two of them could have taken this rogue out all alone. ”Alright dad, I know you can hear me… I am ready to join you..” This time he spoke loud enough for any near him to hear.

Hearing the voice from behind him, he spun his head around to see a large wolf. He had seen this character before. This wolf was at the pack meeting the day his father died. He did nothing to stop it, but was Samael really going to hold a grudge? No. That would be pointless. "If you know anything that could help me, I would appreciate it." Each time he spoke, he could feel the pain swelling inside of him. He closed his eyes for a moment and listened to the older wolf. But there was nothing that Samael could give him. "Let's imagine for a moment that you are in my paws. You actually care about your own family and friends. Now imagine a whole pack does nothing to help your own father, the last blood you have left, and then the immense loneliness which breeds from that. Now imagine you have an apprentice, who you mentor and can actually talk to for things that bother you, like a little brother. Now think to what just happened. Striker is dead. Teren may not have directly killed him, but he killed two wolves I deeply care about. He took away my family. When I stood up beside Chiara, I had no plan. I knew that I could not allow this to happen any longer. What would you have done?" He stared to the male before him, attempting to get up from his position on the lake floor. He sat up and blood dripped from his body. "I don't have much to offer you now, but when I am ready, I plan to kill Teren and take over Erenyx as the rightful heir to the throne. What would you want if I was to become Alpha? You are already at the highest point of promotions for your rank, so I don't know what else you could want."

It became clear to Samael that this wolf belonged in Erenyx. He could not say that about many others he had known. For instance, Tundra, yes she was strong and could handle her own ordeals, but to Samael she was a little too kind for Erenyx's current paces. But once Samael took back his throne, things would be different. He knew he would make necessary changes. Samael moved along with his commands. Though he did not speak a word as to what he wanted the younger wolf to do, Samael just knew. He moved himself from the water and laid on the dry soil. This wolf really wanted something, but he never told Samael exactly what it was. How was he to think of something that he didn't even know what was or was not wanted? As the root or plant, whatever it was, was pushed his way, he stared at it with his bi-colored gaze. It looked disgusting. He had never been one to eat the field grass or any other vegetation. All he wanted was meat, flesh and bones. Reluctantly opening his mouth, he picked it up with his teeth. Using his tongue, he pulled it into his maw and began chewing. It was dry and gross. The taste was the worst thing he had ever eaten, even more so than the rotting corpse he had found as a pup. Grass and things from the ground was meant for herbivores, not carnivores. Continuing to chew, he finally swallowed and looked up to his personal doctor. But before long, Cheshire had already began explaining something else to him. He had mentioned something about passing out, but Samael was not tired. If anything, he wanted to be awake to watch this witch doctor's magic work on him. Soon pressure was forced against his injured ribs. Immediately he let out a whine, ears pressed to the back of his skull. He closed his eyes tight and tried to keep the cries from leaking from his maw. But it was useless. Louder and louder they got as the pain swelled greater and greater within his form. The pain index was higher than anything he had ever felt before and he could feel his conscious slipping from him. With the last little cry of pain, his eyes closed and he was knocked out. Slowly his body breathed as it allowed the Healer to do his magic and repair the broken wolf. Slipping into the silence, Samael dreamed. He dreamed of his father and mother, standing side by side, looking down on him. Very good son, you just be brave. You can do this... his father said. His mother leaned down and licked the side of his cheek. You are so brave, my Samael. You will make it... The images stayed with him, not leaving his side. For the first time in a long time, Samael felt at peace with everything that had happened. In his sleep, his natural body was peaceful and relaxed. Not a single paw kicked and squirmed. Everything laid perfectly still. All that could be seen was the rising and falling of his side, his breathing.