Dawn arrived without glory.
The sky, covered with heavy clouds like mourning veils, barely let the sunlight pass through. Everything was shrouded in deep gray, as if the world refused to shine on a day like this. I found myself in bed, with melancholy pressing me against the silk sheets. The air was cold, as if frozen in time. Even the birds refused to break the silence that spread throughout the area.
Through the window pane, fogged by the early morning humidity, I could make out the contours of the gardens, once full of life, now withered by the storm that had lashed down the night before. The same storm that seemed to cry with them over my father's death, it was as if the entire territory was in mourning. As if the animals themselves could sense that the Alpha was gone.
