A/N: All right, I'll be frank: I'm not completely sure whether or not I'm going to incorporate Balto's storyline into this; chances are that I will, but then again, I may not. But in the situation that I don't, I'll still keep it here in the Balto category, as I can't see one that is more fitting.

This fic would normally be rated in the PG range, but I've rated it Teen just in case as I intend to write in some rather bloody and brutal scenes in there.

Yes, this is a short prologue, but trust me - it WILL be made up for in the chapters to come. Please don't be light when reviewing - I'm the type of person who LOVES having their writing ripped apart, so please do so accordingly. And with that, I hope you like this prologue!

PROLOGUE

The heavens clashed in their ceaseless fury, sparring with great forks of illumination in the grey above. Massive cascades of rain splashed and shot forth a watery assault upon the earth. Whilst most of the animals of the wood were trying to shelter themselves and their kin from the rampant storm, gathering under looming conifers and dogwoods in vain attempts to remain dry, a sole creature mindlessly strolled through the drizzling forest, senses keen and unprecedentedly cautious.

Even as thunder boomed above and showers streamed upon his obsidian back, he took no notice of the mud and water pouring down his pelt. He bore two seeing orbs of luminescent green that seemed to rent even the humid air that surrounded him. A canine-like face dampened from blinding cascades that the sky unleashed ruthlessly upon him.

Opening the great black mouth, gazing into the sapphire heavens, the wolf howled, before looking tentatively from right to left. This was spring, the mating season for almost all of the animals in the forest. And now the lonely creature walked silently through the wall of rain, the razor claws of his feet barely managing to find a hold in the muddy sludge.

He called once more, this time louder and in an almost desperate anguish that echoed endlessly through the sylvan land. He needed a female – soon, or he would die. . . Yet these attempts were forlorn; no response rang from the thick verdant of the impenetrable forest. He feared for his kind – he was frightened that he may very well be the last wolf in the entire wood. His only hope for the future of his clan lay upon his shoulders. He had to find a mate, then, perhaps, their species could live for as long as time.

The solitary predator threw a worried glance to the cumuli-infested void above him, praying that they may hear his plea even as he stood unaccompanied in the tangled growth of the forest, smothered in rain and mud. His eyes brimmed with crystalline tears that shimmered in the dark gloom as he emitted a low, sorrowful wail towards the sky in a final attempt to find a partner.

Breathing in heavy spurts of air, the wolf hung his head low, eyes closed in fear and pain. He was indeed the last of his kind, and he was already close to death as it was.

Fighting to keep the tears from strolling down his pointed head, he silently lay himself down in the wet sludge lathering the ground, collapsing thankfully on his bony limbs before settling his head and torso into the muck.

Silently, he waited. He didn't know how long; he had lost his sense of time, for the only thing he awaited welcome to was the perpetual Nox of death. His eyes closed, his breath weakened, and he prepared to leave his body for eternity. He didn't mind. He knew it was best. His kind abolished forever. . .

Suddenly a high-pitched squeal rang through the storm. The dying dog struggled arduously to hear. "Hawrooo!" called the voice. Could it be? A mate? Tiredly, he dug the claws of his forepaws into the wet muck to grasp a firm hold of the ground before thrusting out his hind legs to stand up. When he had finally risen, he replied with a low wail that was soon followed by a second howl from the woods.

"Do not fret," said the voice. "I will come to you." And so, respectively, the wolf answered with a grunt of accord.

And indeed, several moments later, just as the relentless winds were calming in the evening, another seeking canine emerged from the dark horizon, bleating for him. She came forth, meeting the male with a look of utter elation plastered on her face. She took a gentle, grey snout and etched the crevices in her new partner's face. The male responded with a grunt of satisfaction. The two had finally found their soulmates, the ones whom would help them to revive their race.

But little did they know that their kind would be in such trouble yet again, for the true wilderness was unforgiving to all, no matter who they may be.