Fallen Memoir.

Prologue

"Be on your guard; stand firm in the faith; be courageous;
Be strong."

The loner's auric eyes shone brightly, refracting sunlight like button-eyed kaleidoscopes pressed against his skull; furred lids narrowed, pupils dilating as his gaze settled upon the horizon over sea. A group of vultures lay ahead circling another's kill – or perhaps prey of their own. The furred mongrel himself would be waiting – forced to scavenge like an alleyway cat by none other than fear itself. It gripped him tightly, till he felt pathetic enough that he'd be slipping right through deaths bony fingers. Fear of death had put him in his place, turned him into a tight-rope walker over a glassy pit of paranoia. The inwardly shrinking mighty – wolf rose to his feet, disguised by strength. Honed muscle roped his mostly umber hued body. His eyes a gorgeous bright yellow, glowing with a sharp stare. Four white dots plastered underneath his right eye, and a dark red scar from a long harsh memory. His name was Aeolus Ea Kreul, a once prideful beast stood before the world reborn, humbled by tragedy. With a huff he was sent into motion, trucking down the hill upon which he had sat. The vultures acted as the wolf's guiding compass, sparing him at least a mile's worth of footwork. For that, he was thankful – but soon, they'd become his foes. Aeolus prayed whatever the vultures were after would still be fresh, and for them to be too lazy to want to blind him. His fur prickled, urging him to occupy himself with new born sunset in the meantime. There existed only the swishing sound of tall grass to break the evening's deafening silence. Then, Aeolus was able to twist even that into a haunting feeling of disconcertion. As the sky began to darken, everything around him slowly fell into a faint silence. What did the vultures guide him to then? That was when Aeolus realized something was wrong.