It was not easy living on your own. No pack to turn to, food and water in short supply, and predators lurking at every corner. Masafiri trudged through the spiny desert of Southern Madagascar, his cockroach companion clutching tight to his tattered collar. The sun was beginning its daily descent, painting the sky with streaks of vermilion. Masafiri retired under an enormous baobab, resting his scarred muzzle on his dirt-caked paws. The cockroach, whom he called Kupiga, settled down as well, folding its tiny wings over its body. Masafiri drifted into a long, dream-filled sleep about his past, twitching, and yowling. Spasms coursed through his weak sunbaked body as he thought of his backstory. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Masafiri was once the leader of his pack. He was previously a dignified, groomed male when he was cast out from his number. His pack was healthy and sleek, many of the other native packs were quite jealous of him. Masafiri had a mate as well, a beautiful silver wolf with lavender eyes. He loved this female so much, he would have died for her. Unfortunately, she did not feel the same way. Little did Masafiri know that his own mate was seeing another wolf, Kaskar. Kaskar was a hefty black male with brown markings and a large scar across his left eye. He was spiteful and cruel, and he only heeded himself. One afternoon, Masafiri was sending out his evening patrol to check the borders of his territory. He saw his mate and Kaskar sharing a kudu together, licking each other, and play-fighting. Masafiri told the rest of his patrol group to go check the Northern Border, away from where the two were relishing each other. Masafiri crept up behind Kaskar, landed on top of him, and began clawing forcefully. The massive male fought back, giving Masafiri a slash to his right ear, tearing it in half. Masafiri was a quick and agile sort, and he fought through the mass of fur and blood, puncturing Kaskar’s windpipe and killing him spontaneously. The silver female, who left Masafiri shortly after, ran away in terror. A terrible vine of guilt entwined Masafiri’s heart, and he felt such pity for the limp black body that lay before him, blood pouring from teeth marks in its neck. The pack was furious. They pushed Masafiri into the territory heart, spitefully spitting and pushing him with force. The pack's healer, Baji, stood on the Fallen Tree in the camp center, where Masafiri would have been to address his pack. The former leader limped hurriedly, his head held low in humiliation, one ear still bleeding from the earlier attack. The rest of his pack voted on making him depart, for it was a terrible sin against the Moon Ancestors to kill another member of your pack. Baji forced a dark red spiked collar around Masafiri's neck, to show all who met him that he was to be avoided, for he had spilled the blood of another wolf. Years passed, and Masafiri learned how to live on his own; he became a traveler, a nomad. The voyager etched a compass rose into his skin, so he could always find his way in the harsh desert landscape of Madagascar. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Masafiri woke with a jolt, sweat dripping from his face. The male wolf was trembling all over, waking Kupiga. The cockroach, in return, began hissing indignantly. "Sorry, Kuiga," Masafiri said, shaking away the moist, salty, sweat from his forehead. Masafiri sat down on his haunches, looking out onto the horizon. The cool air gently curled around his paws, and Kupiga scampered onto his left shoulder. The rising sun brought about a sense of hope, of new beginnings. Masafiri knew his life would continue to be harsh, but he could always find a way to survive.
Words: 630 The story is by me. Gawd I hope I win....
