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2. An Impulse

2. An Impulse

Crunch.

Shallow particles under the heavy footsteps of the pack grew larger and tougher.

Crunch.

They were a mixture of jagged stones which lay there since the Book of Genesis, and a dirty rust sand that had coated Earth since it had been mutilated.

Crunch.

Death was still prominent in the air but the strays had nowhere to run back to; their homes long gone. All that was left was wandering aimlessly to cling on to the remaining life they had, maybe even in search of a miracle.

It must've been the 5th day proceeding further into the pits of Pandemonium where the strays became much more wearier. There was an awful smog in the air that was not only foul in odor, but also brought a slight sting to the eyes; this was a first for most of the pack, even for her. The atmosphere would periodically clear and give the strays a chance to wash their eyes with the limited water they had, but soon enough another puff of the smoke would engulf them once again. The stench remained throughout this, although it somewhat deepened within it; they began to time the smog using this sense, and quickly shut their eyes as they pushed forward. The cubs bumped into one another as they attempted to navigate with no sight, but it was better than experiencing that dreadful sting. Having her eyes closed only heightened the rest of her senses. She felt a low rumbling underneath her feet which she hadn't noticed before. It felt similar to the foreshock of an earthquake; the land was unstable here... Volatile. She knew she had to remain nimble on these grounds.

Since it had been a while after the last puff of smog, the strays took the opportunity to cover as much terrain as they possibly could. Though exhausted from days of travel, they quickened their steps and made haste. Crunch, crunch, crunch. The sand only became more difficult to traverse with time, as if the Earth itself was trying to refrain them from reaching whatever lay ahead.

Rob stopped in his tracks first. He was the eldest of the pack; a former marine. Though his instincts were no longer as sharp as hers, they had been cultivated over many years and retained experience. Rob's lack of movement was enough to raise concern, as the rest of the strays followed suit and looked up. While their eyes had become droopier over the course of the journey, they became immediately alert.

Laura was the last to halt; she stopped taking Rob seriously around 20 years into their marriage.

"God Robert, what is it now?" She glanced around to see everyone's gaze fixated in the same direction. "What is going o-. Oh shit."

If God had included gardens in hell, they probably would've looked like this.

Several large pits in the crumbling, orange earth spat out clouds of coloured gas, though the colour palette wasn't very pleasant - a mixture of green, brown and grey hues (colours they encountered earlier in the smog) were coating the atmosphere in an unseemly manner. It appeared these pits were once geysers, but now instead of bursting with nature's gift in a fantastical way, they were fountains of nature's curse. The heat radiating from the many craters was measurable, despite the strays having some distance to cover before they were in the midst of them. Heat. That wasn't very normal for Pandemonium.

Evidently, what the pack had began to smell days ago was coming from this congregation of exhausted geysers. This must've been what she felt a few miles ago with the tremors. It was the gas pumping itself from the inside, out. She gazed upon the sight bereft of any emotion; she did not know she was witnessing the dying earth coughing up the last of its disease, and exterminating its murderers alongside that.

One by one the strays began trudging towards the horrific scene.

No turning back.

Nowhere to go.

She remained unphased, for Pandemonium was just this; a place of chaos and destruction. The idea of the geyser inducing awe in the past is not a thought that occurred to her. Instead, the noxious gas seemed well suited to her experiences of the New World.

"Now I know y'all can see that putrid smoke ahead. I would advise y'all to inhale as little as possible of it, we got no clue what that shit does." Rob knew not to take chances when it came to the New World's abilities, and he wasn't going to let anybody else find out. "We still have a few miles ahead of us until we get there, but stay on your toes and remember to expect the worst."

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Expect the worst. She knew all too well. This had been drilled into each strays heads ever since the deserters, those who had fled to the other planet, backstabbed the Earth and the ones who remained.

The strays kept going, their senses heightened through fear and resilience. It was only another mile in when she noticed a tattered tent posted up in the emptiness before the gardens. The tent wasn't very easy to spot, with the layer of soot pitched on top camouflaging it into the dirt. She found it odd, but felt compelled to find out why it was there. And so her steps shifted slightly off track towards the tent. The others didn't notice much at first; only when Clay turned around to check on her, did he realise she had taken a different route to everyone else. Clay often felt a need to look after her, although he knew she didn't need it. It may have been because she was the youngest of the cubs, or because she was a mute, or because she never relied on anyone else. The reasons didn't matter to him. He just felt a need.

"Hey, where are you going?" Clay shouted as he ran after her. This caught the attention of the pack, albeit with more irritation than concern.

"Clay, there ain't no time for your bullshit shenanigans!" Rob yelled. "No one's chasing after ya, and you'd come back if you ain't got a death wish."

Clay was too determined to catch up to her to comprehend the weight of Rob's words. Aura and a couple of the other cubs followed suit, running behind Clay.

"Tch. Bunch of stupid kids." Rob muttered under his breath before turning to the strays that remained. "We ain't dying out there with them. Let's keep moving!"

Though some of the strays were worried about the cubs, they knew that going off path was the same as engulfing yourself in the dust. They stayed together because they feared that what they would find alone would be worse than the terrors they had already experienced. Staying together ensured to keep some form of sanity intact.

After picking up the pace, the cubs were able to catch up to her. In the time it had taken Clay to notice, she had been able to cover a decent bit of area. Gasping for air, Clay grabbed on to her shoulder and turned her around to face him.

"What.. the hell... are you doing?" Clay panted, as he quickly clutched on to his knees trying to take in as much air as possible while it was still somewhat 'clean'. His forehead was dripping beads of sweat, turning the orange dirt underneath him into a dark brown. He looked up with anger, eyebrows furrowed. "Are you.. trying to die?!"

She had a look that could only be described as bewilderment; she didn't expect anyone to come after her. Her gaze shot up to the cubs behind Clay's hunched back, who gave her a similar look of anger.

"Have you lost your braincells along with your voice?" Aura shrieked. She wouldn't have been this angry if it wasn't Clay who quickly chased after her. "I knew you were irresponsible, but I didn't take you as stupid."

She looked at Aura blankly as she was used to her malicious talk, and quickly turned around to point ahead. Clay began to straighten up to look over her shoulder. It still wasn't very easy to see the tent, although they were much closer to it.

Aura pushed past her, and stared in the direction of the tent. "What am I supposed to be looking at?" She scoffed.

"There's some form of... shelter there?" Clay asked in disbelief. She nodded. "How did you spot that? It seems like it's been purposefully hidden."

She shrugged and continued to walk towards it, as if the tent had a gravitational pull of its own. Clay sighed and trudged alongside her; he knew better than to try and ask for her motives. But he trusted her, because he recognised that her instincts were sharper than his... sharper than anyone he had known. Even though Rob's words began to ring in his head, Clay believed that she wouldn't lead him to his demise. Aura bitterly continued behind them along with the other cubs, as her nerves began to slowly settle in again; she hated being off track.

Something about following her gut rejuvenated her whole body, as if there was an electrical current running from the tip of her toes through to the crown of her head. It made her feel alive in a way that wasn't experienced by many in the New World, as Pandemonium didn't have the tools to cultivate life.

As they finally approached the shelter, the Earth very quickly began to flatten out; those large stones were now just grains of dirty sand. The group of cubs were surprised to realise that the tent was much larger than what it appeard to be in the distance. In fact, it was more of a yurt than a tent. It was round in architecture, and on the canvas where the dust hadn't settled, you could see crude depictions of animals and humans in fields that had been painted on top. Not often did the strays find such enclosures in Pandemonium - many were pillaged and ripped apart, while the yurt looked like it had been intact for years with regular upkeep.

She ran her fingers across the skin of the shelter, revealing lines of off white under the dusty cover. She was intrigued. Curious. So were the rest of the cubs; somehow she had brought them to something out of the ordinary. Something from the Old World. But they still had their wits about them and knew not to trust whatever was dwelling inside. They didn't even know if there was someone inside.

The rustic, wooden door swung open as that exact thought ran through their young minds. An older man, with silver hair and modest, thin garments stepped out. One hand remained on the door as he peeped his head around to get a good luck at the cubs.

"And to what do I owe the pleasure?"

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