Drake climbed the rocky ledges. His eyes darting back and forth as if he expected to be attacked any time now. This pack. That war. The cold. It all was driving him crazy. Echoes of war clouded his mind. The cold wind was distorted and sounded like the howls of the dead. The slopes he climbed were icy and hard to climb but Drake didn't care about himself slipping. Every once in awhile he slipped and fell on his face or hind but he just pulled himself up and dragged himself up the side. Drake stopped didn't stop when he got to the top. Instead he walked around in tight circles whispering and growling angrily at himself. "Where did you bring us you moron, what is wrong with you? Why would you bring us here of any place possible!" His voice started at an small whisper and grew to almost an holler. His anger was building and he snapped at the air. Fog enveloped him and he decided he would follow the sounds of the crashing waves. Drake turned and pulled himself towards the edge. He didn't quit walking until he felt that there were no more steps in front of him. He looked out at the misty fog and thought he saw faces in the air. Soon one opened it's maw and he recognized the voice as his bestfriend. Its sound came from another place though. Come Drake, the voice danced in the winds, I promise it will be fun. He spun around and followed the voice. It was leading him in a new direction and Drake almost thought he could see the outline of the fae. He followed it with interest. Wherever she led him, he would follow. After all, he was going insane. If he never chose this pack he would probably be able to avoid this. He wouldn't have been in the war. And he definitely wouldn't be following an figment of his imagination. "Come on. Quit playing games, hurry up and get me to wherever we are going." He walked with his head low and swaying, his tail hung the same. He hadn't been eating right since the war and now that it was winter he was getting skinnier. Soon enough you would be able to see his ribs. He let out a rumbling impatient sigh.

Drake's hungry eyes set on a single fae, she was pure black as dark as night. He stumbled forward and grinned his slithering tongue ran over his lips. "Ah, so this is the fun she was leading me to," he looked over the dark fae with pleasure. A scent covered her just like all of the other females in winter. His hunger was stronger than his desire to mate as he moved forward to circle her and take in every last detail of his soon to be opponent. "What's your name fae?" He asked her. Before he could say any more the voice echoed through his mind. attack her this time it was harsh yet calming. He no longer was fazed by the voice though. And within' seconds he lunged at her not even caring about defense. His tail was curled over his spine and his now small form was shaking with a mix or anger and hunger. Before he could even lay a paw on her he was on the ground howling and whining in pain. He tried to put all of his strength into getting up and attacking her but he had none left. How did he let this happen? Not to long ago he was perfectly healthy and well fed but now he couldn't even manage to stand up to a fae. Multiple times he snapped at the air and tried to force his shaking form to stand. But he couldn't, he didn't have what it took to survive. The voice slowly got louder as it continued in his mind until it was all he could hear. Whether the fae left him or if she attacked him, he would die. He wasn't sure he was ready for death but death was ready for him. Pain shot through his whole body and it felt like he was being torn apart by a million wolves. He would not let this happen, he couldn't. He had plans. He wanted to excel in this pack and rise through the ranks. But after the war the voice took over. It was all going to be over soon. And all throughout his angered struggle the voice still echoed. Angrier and angrier each second until it almost sounded welcoming.

[OOC- go ahead and kill him]

[Bump (so I can make Xora)]