Prexsis heard the distant sounds of bellowing Ferals. They called out to the rest of the forest, looking for somebody they know.
He turned to face other Ferals, who kept their eyes focused on the darkness behind them. Each one listened intently, their hearts beating in their ears.
After several more seconds, they felt the urge to go visit these cries. Worst case would be finding one of their own trying to crawl away from a bigger beast, best case would be finding a downed Trilogy Feral.
They leapt through the trees, storming back the way they came from. Thick branches groaned under their numbers, shaking steadily as if it was beginning to fall.
Nobody made any noises of their own, it was like wild predators readying themselves to pounce on prey. Getting the upper hand under the darkened forest was their advantage.
When they approached the mysterious Ferals, they slowed down tremendously. Each Feral kept their ears fixed in the direction of where they heard those sounds from.
Cyclone stepped apart from the main group, his shoulders were broad and eyes fixed overhead. Despite not being able to see anything, he still knew there was someone out there.
In order to confirm it, he prepared to risk their position. He let out several low howls, which turned to a shaky growl, after a brief two seconds, that growl turned into a high pitched roar.
All overhead Ferals jumped back in excitement. They chirped to one another, trying to keep themselves calm. Prexsis took the lead in dropping to the ground.
With a sudden thump and several shattering branches, Cyclone knew there was someone down there with him. So he spoke with his thick, raspy voice.
"Who are you?"
Prexsis' eyes widened, his heart began beating a little faster. "C - Cyclone..? Is - is the r - rest of the Connisko pack with you?"
Cyclone got closer to Prexsis, then he sniffed the air. He could smell the engraved scent of his mother's spit over his forehead. That was enough reason to ease his shoulders.
"Yes, they are right behind me. Where is Hara? How about the rest of Connisko? Are they alive?"
Ferals from Cyclone's side leaned closer to Prexsis, impatiently waiting to hear his answer. They wanted to know if their families were still alive, if their sons and daughters were growing.
Maybe the younger Ferals would finally meet their Neddy if the pack is still alive. Each one had their own reason to be impatient, which caused the split-second it took for Prexsis to respond feel like an eternity.
"We have invaded a Thresher utopia, it is our home. Come, Cyclone. Let me guide you back to Hara's arms," Prexsis replied.
Cyclone, along with his Ferals, followed Prexsis through the darkness. Which motivated the Infinus warriors to follow behind if they did not want to get lost.
In a matter of fourteen minutes, all outside Ferals collapsed onto the cold dirt. They clicked their tongues and chirped, trying to show they were peaceful with each other.
Decka watched the formally frenzied Cyclone step closer to the dim light of the opened entrance. His muscles were painted red with the result of conflict.
Which did not just include the blood of his attackers, but also his own blood. Even the places where he got injured and battered by blunt weapons. He poked his head through the opening.
Causing two guarding Ferals to chirp as one. They were surprised, unsure if what they were seeing was real. They spoke to their alpha in Kenekuor, requesting him to come down.
An overwhelming amount of relief and joy washed down each of their spines. None of them could believe after all this time, they were back together.
Cyclone stood to the side, allowing other Ferals to look inside. "Go, my Ferals. Run inside and let the rest of the pack know we are here. Our journey is over."
Prexsis stepped beside Cyclone. "This is a monumental moment for us all. I'll form a hunting party and lead a Wild Hunt, we will return with food for the whole pack.
"Thank you," Cyclone placed a hand on Prexsis' shoulder. "Just by looking at you, I can tell they raised strong offspring while we were gone."
A female Feral pushed through the crowded entrance. There was an overgrown smile on her face, she was eager to see her partner after all these years.
She called out his name, looking through the unfamiliar faces in search of her lost lover. But he was not there. So she turned to Cyclone and asked.
"Excuse me, but do you know where Vimko is?" her voice was kind and sweet.
Vimko, Cyclone knew that name. He remembered stepping through the blizzard, howling repeatedly as Vimko walked close behind. They talked for hours, keeping their minds off their exhaustion.
Then he remembered the cold eventually catching up to him and bringing him down. Cyclone's stomach twisted, he wanted to go back in time and drag his body back to Olavin-Faa.
But that was impossible for a Feral, he couldn't achieve that. So he looked into her eyes and answered her honestly.
"While we marched to Olavin-Faa, a powerful blizzard washed over our pack... and Vimko did not make it, he fell during the storm," Cyclone's voice was sentimental.
The female's smile turned to a heartbroken stare. "Vimko..." she stared off into the seemingly infinite darkness. "I - I... at least he... n - never mind. What matters is the rest of the pack is back. Welcome home."
Demon watched them reunite. The Ferals flooding the crowded underground utopia and searched for their loved ones. He stepped back, entering his pocket universe.
Where the butler and maiden rested. They were kneeling, hands on their laps and head tilted down.
"We did good, now let us recount what we've gained," Demon's voice was eerily calm.
In response, the Iron Maiden said. "Vogh..."