Within moments the pack was in panic. The young huddled to me and their parents whilst the old stood guard. A young male that was close to leaving the nest simply ran from the cloud. I knew this would lead to my chance. I just needed to wait. An hour later ash fell from the sky and the pack calmed down. Eventually the adults went hunting and normalacy returned despite the healthy dose of paranoia throughout the group. I was eaten more than usual but over time I notaced the plants wilting under the coats of ash and that the animals caught were becoming thinner and thinner. It would not be long before I could escape this hell. I would enter the dying world with new purpouse. To be comfortable, fed and to find others like myself.

I began to walk. I moved slowly, scrounging for roots and chasing small prey where possible. I ensured I had good rest as the ash, for all it’s destruction feels soft like sand. Over time larger debris fell. I soon realised that seeking cover was necessary to avoid being crushed. The largest animal I saw came up to my waist. If anything survives this hell I am sure I will never be so overwhelmed as I was by the pack.

After a very long time I entered a mountain range with great spires of rock touching the blood read ceiling of the world. I began to climb. I had a strange desire to see the sky once more. Eventually, as I climbed the ash became thicker until it filled my lungs and stomach. I felt terrible as I pushed onward. Soon the ash cleared and I stood at the peak of the mountain gazing into the setting sun. There were some shrubs here. I could see more food than I had had in the last week. I sat down, plucked some berries and watched the ash slowly fall as the sky spun with shimmering lights and a brilliant blue.

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I lay idle until finally, the ash had long settled and plants which had been dormant for so long began to regrow. The walk down the mountain was far easier than the journey up. Slipping meant falling closer to the goal rather than away from it and the ash cloud had gone.

At the base of the mountain I grabbed some plants and continued on my journey. If any of my kind exists I am sure they would have survived. I did. As I walked I noticed something strange. It was getting colder. Each day was shorter and colder than the one before. The white stuff on the mountains was becoming more common and extending closer to the ground. Eventually it began to snow. The white stung my bare skin. Especially my feet and hands. I endured for the few days this lasted and continued walking. Fortunately, the days got longer again but it never returned to being warm. Soon snow and ice became commonplace and the world seemed so different from before. It was beautiful. Eventually I experienced a day that lasted longer than a rotation of the sun. The cold hurt here. My feet became black and had to be smashed on a rock to regenerate. I couldn’t take it anymore. I turned around and walked back the way I came. Far sooner than before I saw mountains. I entered their peaks And strolled across the ice between two great glaciers. A resounding crack filled the air and the ground fell away beneath me. Scrambling at the ice I cried and fell. Plummeting through blue I hit the ground before rapids snatched me from the ice. I spun, helpless in the water until all went black once more.

It seems fate hates me for my immortality.