do you hear the voices

[attr="class","iionawords"]
Usually when Iiona roused for the day, it was in sync with the slow ascent of the sun into the morning sky. Dawn was her favorite time of day, as it was defined by a gentle hush uncharacteristic of the noisy jungles she called home. For those precious moments, there was no pack, no responsibilities, no dangers. Iiona was free to revel in the beauty of the sky, scarlet like a macaw’s wing, and contemplate the stillness of the sapphire ocean as the rest of the world slowly came to around her. Howler monkeys would shriek into the stillness to ascertain their numbers in case one had fallen prey to a wandering leopard in the dark of night, birdsong would filter out of the leaves as birds of paradise began attending to their daily duties, and soon there would be a constant buzzing in the background to represent the quieter animals that dwelled within the foliage. Waking up early was a routine for her, a constant to which she adhered so closely that it had reworked itself into her daily rhythm, so it was with great confusion that her bleary eyes blinked open – after what felt like a second since she had shut them – and she was greeted with the bright noon sunlight and none of the usual sounds that accompanied it.
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Quickly, concern for her packmates drove the young alpha to her feet as soon as she had registered her unfamiliar surroundings. These fields with their distinct white flowers were not of the island she had inherited from her forefathers; there were no native plants, no great mountain climbing into the sky, no waterfalls plummeting from the clouds, and, worse still, there was no ocean for her to return to. She was landlocked in a strange place of which she could not recall traveling too, and there was an immediate panic that rose in her chest before being quelled instinctively by years of training. Fear would do nothing but distract her and cloud her rational mind; no matter the situation, she must keep a level head if she wished to avoid disaster.
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Swiftly, she went through the possible options available to her. A quick sniff informed her that there was no scent trails to be followed, be it her own or one of her packmate’s, further complicating the already bizarre situation and leaving her with absolutely no idea of which direction home was. So either she could begin wandering around blindly and hoping it would lead her somewhere familiar or sit still and hope somebody helpful might stumble upon her. Neither were great choices, and both were heavy with potential consequences. But, the longer she took picking between them, the tighter her chest became. Thoughts of her packmates began to flash through her mind as she thought of Aelyx the Shaman – who had always treated her like she was his own daughter – of Salome the snake – who twisted her words and challenged her at every turn – of Luc the fisher – mellow and kind and talented beyond his years – and, finally, of Halcyon. Of all the wolves, he lingered the longest in her mind, and more than anything she wished that she could hear the soothing rumble of his voice once more. If she tried hard enough, channeled all her focus into dredging up her memories, Iiona could practically catch his scent on the breeze, could remember the warmth in his eye as he listened politely to her talk and offered his thoughts when they came up. There was always something so calming about his presence, a softness to his friendship, and if there was ever a time Iiona needed his company, it was now. For more important than his innate kindness was his knowledge of the world; he had come from the mainland, had seen more than had ever existed on the small, waterlocked island she resided on, so, surely, he was better suited to surviving in this place than she was.
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Here, there were no canopies to block out the sun, no sandy beaches to dig for clams, and no ocean to catch fish or escape from enemies. Utterly alone, utterly afraid, the longer she stood there the more nervous energy coursed through her veins until the only thing she could hear was the incessant pounding of her heart as it slammed against her chest in an increasing staccato beat and the only thing she could feel was the tightness of her lungs as they squeezed and strained and yet she continued to suffocate, to drown until, like a dying animal, she craned her head back and howled a desperate cry to the heavens. Let Salome call her a coward! Let Lira scoff at her condemnably! If it meant going home, well, Iiona would do just about anything to return to her pack.

Ray / 805 words / hal's verbosity curse is upon us :^)