Thank you so much to @rtomford71 from Wattpad for giving me this story idea!
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The old arctic wolf was dying. He laid on his bedside, the healers doing everything in their power to keep him living, pouring their magic into his veins. But this was only done to prolong what was inevitable, death looming so closely to him now.
His son, Aspen kneeled on the ground, tears welling in his icy blue eyes as he watched his father barely able to breath, only taking shallow and short breaths, chest rising and falling quickly in the short breaths that would not bring enough oxygen to the body to keep it living.
Aspen clasped his hand in his father's, feeling the pulse of his blood, the heart clearly beating in irregular patterns.
"Son." The old wolf bit out, wheezing before collapsing back in bed, but forcing the words out of his maw. "You and I both know that I will not live for much longer, that I will cross into the realm of spirits." He said roughly, looking his son in the eye.
Tears were now falling down Aspens cheeks as he struggled to keep his composure, already having known his farther had little time left to live. But hearing it said by his farther himself brought a new wave of sadness that even he had lost hope that the healers would be able to revive him into the energetic and joyful man he used to be.
But his father looked at him sternly, clearly wanting Aspen to hear this before he died. "You, my son will have to take up being the leader of the army just as I have. I've taught you all you've needed to know in order to lead the army, and now that I am incapable of leading them, I'm going to need you to step up, and begin to act like an adult."
Even though his words were soft, Aspen listened closely, dread filling him on leading the army of Anthornia, the position he knew he would have to fill at some point in time, though he didn't believe the time would have to come so soon.
Even though he wanted nothing to do with the army, being loyal to his father which had helped him so much throughout life after his mother had died was such a high priority for him, even if he was nearly dead now.
"Of course I will father, I'll take up that role with all of my strength." Aspen said, forcing the shakiness out of his tone, knowing he wouldn't be able to show so much pain and emotion as the leader of the army, a prestigious position that was only for those who could kill without flinching, beat no tears. That would be something he would have to get accustomed to, even if he knew how difficult it would require him to be.
His father suddenly sputtered, trying to chock out more words, but he couldn't even force them out of his maw, body convulsing as he writhed on his bed, eyes wide as his maw was open in terror.
Aspen stood up suddenly, going right to his father's side. He roared for the healers to return as his father writhed helplessly, trying to speak and tell his son something but having no ability to convey it. He looked absolutely helpless, his father's demeanor so different from how he usually appeared when commanding the army, practically glowing with power and confidence, but now reduced to this by the awful sickness.
His father suddenly went still, body ceasing to writhe and struggle as his eyes stayed open, but with a loss of all the emotion and life that was present in them for all this time.
Aspen stood perfectly still for a moment, breath caught at the realization that his father might be dead. He shook his fathers corpse, teeth gritted as he tried to wake his father up from what he desperately hoped was sleep, eyes wide in desperation as he tried to awake his fathers dead body.
But it remained still, eyes open, emotionless and unblinking. His father was dead.