Her sword is strapped to her back, not in a sheath as most knights would carry it. It makes it vulnerable to rust and to rain, to dulling and stains, but to the woman who bears it, it matters little. Despite strapping it to her armor, she has never once drawn it in the months she has worn it. Continue reading
Silver-Fur-Shining crouches on the plain, her tail and body set low in the tall grasses, looking for all the world like an immense cat ready to pounce, rather than any wolf. She is far too large for any regular wolf, as well, nearly twice the size of a well fed horse. Her wolf pack is a hundred yards distant, herding an immense scaled creature with armor-like hide and flames for its breath. Its name is lost to Silver-Fur-Shining, but she is certain that it is not like the winged creature which took her home from her so long ago. While the monster’s breath is as flame, its form is more bull-like, albeit an especially large one. Rather than hooves, it has long scaled talons for feet, and its tail bears a spitting serpent’s head.
Normal wolves would never be so foolish as to try to take such a creature down. In fact, though Silver’s pack is made entirely of large, powerful dire wolves, they would not be able to kill such a creature under normal circumstances, though they hurt it by raking its metallic scales and nipping at its tail, which already has fallen limp, whether from exhaustion or damage. The wolves had taken several injuries from those claws and its tail.
She settles back again, panting slightly from the heat. It’s midday on the plains. Padding from behind her marks the arrival of Silver’s mate, Claw-Scars-Many. Claw settles down next to her almost lazily.
“Anxious, little girl?” he asks lightly. The old wolf’s fur is streaked near white with age.When he had first found her he had been old. Forty seasons later he is older still.
“No more than I should be, dear one,” she answers quietly. Then, “Are you prepared?”
“You know what I think of your chase after these monsters,” Claw replies in a soft growl. “But this beast has killed too many of our pack for me not to be ready.”
Claw is nearly twice as small as Silver-Fur-Shining. It hadn’t always been that way. Silver is the largest of any wolf in the pack, the largest any dire wolf has ever been, according to Claw, but she doesn’t mind.
Nor could she help it if she did.
Of all the things she gave up to enter this pack, she is sure that the memories of her human life had been some of the hardest to let go. The others were either easily dropped, or the pain had been negligible. She’d been treated like a child until, by dire wolf standards, she was a child no more. It hadn’t been easy- at least, at first, as the runt of her pack. She remembers that she’d been the only pup in the pack for five whole seasons after she first was accepted. Gradually though, things changed. She had grown. She had become stronger.
The few wolves who still remembered that she was a shapeshifter had either left the pack or died seasons before she mated with Claw.
The tale had not been perpetuated, so only Claw was around to remember the truth.
Then, she’d stayed on with Claw-Scars-Many, risen to pack leader after beating him in a contest of strength, and let him stay with her for advice.
Her pack now consists mostly of her children, whether by Claw or by other foreign dalliances. She cares for them all dearly, and is proud of their work here, in a vague sort of way. She feels, however, a certain emptiness in her heart, even as her big moment slowly stampedes closer, even as the great scaled bull comes within twenty five yards and Claw coils like a spring. The woman-wolf pushes it aside, however. She’ll need all her focus for this moment.
Silver ducks down further, staring up as it tramples down grass. She waits for her moment as the beast finally stands before her on those scaled legs and rears back a little, horse-like. Its head is turned away from her and its neck is exposed. Claw, however, is the one to move first. He darts underneath the creature and rakes sharp iron claws along its soft underbelly. The thing bellows, kicking out with one leg, twisting and turning, and presenting Silver with its back.
As Claw-Scars-Many jumps away, Silver leaps up atop the creature’s exposed flank, digs her claws in and closes her massive jaws on the beast’s metallic neck, snapping them shut and feeling her teeth scrape and then puncture right through its scaled hide, warm, copper blood splashing her fur, staining her teeth greenish blue. It smells good, filling her nose with a colorful splash of metal and honey. The taste, however, is just a little too sweet for her.
She’d gag if she could, but instead she bites down harder and wrenches to the side sharply, tearing the metal scales and snapping the iron bones making up the monster’s spine. It breathes a single jet of flame from its nostrils, kicking out, bucking weakly before its blazing red eyes darken and it collapses with Silver’s weight bearing it down.
Silver steps off of its massive corpse, more than a little pleased with herself, for all the loss this monster brought. Her plan had worked fairly well, considering the prey they’d decided to try to take. It would be prudent for her to have the pack move to the kill rather than to try to move the kill itself.
“The scales are tough,” Claw observes from her side. “Like metal. How does it taste?”
Silver licks her muzzle, sits back on her haunches and stares Claw-Scars-Many down. He holds her gaze for a few long moments, then turns away.
Finally, Silver answers him. “Too sweet, for me, though the meat is good. Divide it up amongst our hunters. Make sure you get first pick, my love.”
Something is eating at her heart right now, some unfamiliar feeling. With the killing done, she feels she can focus on it. Whatever it is is ruining her appetite.
The woman-wolf pads away to find a place to be alone, curling up near the edge of a tall, tall tree, crouched in its shade. When she feels she must be completely alone, she lets herself relax. For a time, she can let her thoughts run free.
She can’t remember the name she had as a human. She only vaguely remembers how old she was then. She remembers, to some extent, being small. But then, compared with Claw-Scars-Many, as a human she would have always been small.
Her memories of being a pup are blurred. She had taken wolf shape at a time where her body could accept meat and drink and walk on its own. From the very start she had been allowed to eat portions of any kill brought back- so long as the adults ate first.
Silver closes her eyes a moment. Dreams had haunted her every night for as far back as she could remember. Claw couldn’t or wouldn’t understand. Dreams of winged monsters. Dreams of fire breathing, scaled creatures flying across the sky, eclipsing the moon. Dreams of dragons.
Their scales fill her mind when she sleeps. Even thinking about them in her off time gives her an odd thrill. How she longs to be meet one of them. How she wishes she could find one of them, speak to its shape. Grace, power and beauty mixed as one. She doesn’t remember where she saw them first, to make her dream this way, but that doesn’t matter.
“Pack leader,” a voice calls in a soft growl. Her eyes snap open. One of her children, Chase-The-Wind, approaches her, padding over quietly. Everything about his snow-white form is nervous, his tail between his legs, his eyes downcast. “Shadow-With-Teeth is issuing an open challenge for leadership. He came here with his whole pack.”
Silver-Fur-Shining rises to her four paws, stretches out slowly. “Thank you. I’ll take his challenge now.”
She knows Chase is curious. Normally she’d wait a few days after a kill before accepting any challenge. Something preoccupies her, however. She wishes only to get the fight over and done with so she might continue alone with her thoughts.
To that end, she is surprised to see Shadow-With-Teeth muzzle to muzzle with Claw-Scars-Many. The two are snarling and snapping at one another. The words are hard to make out, but she gets the gist of it.
“You think that Silver-Fur-Shining is weak? You dare step here in my pack, issue formal challenge to the leader and pretend not to know who she is?” Claw-Scars-Many growls sharply. “Were she here-”
“Where is she then, if she is as strong as you boast?” Shadow-With-Teeth snaps. “Is she too craven to accept my challenge?”
Claw stares him down, and the two are so intent that it isn’t until Silver physically steps between them that they take note of her. Claw abruptly sits back on his haunches and does not meet her eyes. Shadow stares her down defiantly, of course, but she can read fear in his gaze, even if the wind does not bring her his scent.
“I accept your challenge,” Silver says quietly. “And I have no fear.”
“The terms?” Shadow asks. His stance is tense and his eyes never leave hers.
“If you lose, you and your pack fall under my command,” Silver replies evenly.
“If you lose, you will be my mate and your pups will be the strongest of any ever known,” Shadow growls. “We will hunt on the plains until the stars burn out.”
Silver almost lets go with a wolfish grin after that, but represses it. “You won’t win.”
They begin to circle. The wolves surrounding them scatter, both packs looking on. Silver eyes her opponent warily. His steps mark him for an experienced fighter. He is remarkably large for a dire wolf, nearly as large as Silver is, and it makes her uneasy. His fur is somewhat matted and scarred in places, and black as shadows ought to be.
They wait, each watching the other. Tension gathers in Silver’s heart. He should move. She knows he’ll strike first. They always do. Impatient.
He does. In a flash, he strikes, moving like lightning. His breath fills her nostrils as his teeth snap down, as she nimbly ducks away from those razor fangs. She launches herself forward, driving her shoulder towards his throat. He bunches his legs and jumps, though, taking it to the chest instead, letting himself get bowled over. She doesn’t chase him down, but backs away, eying him, still wary. A less experienced wolf would have tried to pin him, and a less experienced wolf would have lost a paw. Never underestimate your opponent.
Shadow rolls back onto his paws again, rising slowly and glaring at her from burning red eyes. A red that captures her for a moment, holds her for far, far too long…
The moment fades as he moves, and she steps to the side, avoiding a charge and smashing into his side with her shoulder. She tumbles after him this time, rolling on top, pinning his form down, teeth pausing at his throat, staring down at him. Her eyes meet his again, locked as she is like this. Something about him feels strange. Feels… familiar…
He gives a little whine and a whimper in submission, and she lets up, easing away, eying him warily.
It’s good that she does, for he rolls back to his paws and swipes for her the moment she lets him free. Iron-hard claws draw three red hot lines along her muzzle, and her blood runs blue as the sky. He’d moved faster than lightning. He’d been less than a blur.
The blow stuns her a moment, and in a flash his teeth are in pause like hers were, a mere moment from piercing Silver’s throat. A growl, soft and threatening escapes past her bare teeth as her blood soaks the fur of her muzzle.
“Trickery,” she snaps. “What manner of wolf are you?”
Those razor’d teeth graze her neck through her fur, though. Hating herself for it, Silver whimpers in submission without further complaint. To her shock and shame, those teeth nip one of her ears before they draw away, neatly puncturing it. Without the threat of his jaws around her neck, Silver shakes her head to clear it, and storms away, leaving her mate with her victorious rival and trying very hard not to think about what it means that she lost.
To her further surprise, Shadow doesn’t follow her.
When Claw finds her later, she crouches under her tree with Chase-The-Wind, who is busily licking away the dried and drying blood from the wound on her muzzle, cleaning her as if she were a pup and Chase were a mother. Of all his children, Claw likes Chase the best.
He isn’t Silver’s favorite– the girl-wolf doesn’t pick favorites– but he comes pretty close.
You just ran off to sulk? is what Claw thinks, but he doesn’t say it out loud because he isn’t feeling cruel. Of course, he doesn’t need to say it. It’s implied in every muscle in his body.
“Come to mock me, Claw?” Silver asks, without looking at him. “Come to taunt me for my mistake?”
“No,” he replies, staring at her steadily. “I have not.”
“Then why are you here?” she snarls. “Perhaps you wanted one last roll before I become beholden to Shadow-With-Teeth?”
“If you had not run away like a stung pup, you’d realize that you won as well,” Claw says lightly. “A point that, if argued between packs, I’m sure you would win. You always tell me that I have trouble with my temper.”
Claw ignores that. “You are letting your anger cloud your mind. We are more than giant wolves– you have helped me see that over the seasons, little one, whether you know it or not. I suggest you act like it.”
Silver-Fur-Shining shakes her head, but it’s only to push Chase-The-Wind away. She stretches and stands, chest heaving in an immense sigh. “Fine.”
Chase stands with her, but Claw pads over to him and leads him away. “Let her deal with this on her own,” he growls softly. “This is something your mother must do.”
Silver arrives at the clearing- a place of dirt and grass- where her pack has dragged their kill. No one meets her eyes. Her children all seem downcast– as well they should be, to witness their mother lose. It wrenches at her heart to see them like this, but she shoves that aside, instead stalking past them to where Shadow-With-Teeth sits alone. A leg from the massive scaled monster lies unworried or touched next to him. He meets her eyes fearlessly, tauntingly, with his own crimson ones.
Silver restrains the snarl and snap that try to curl her lips back from her teeth. He dares to challenge her authority?
But she lost.
“Eager to start?” he growls quietly. “You should wait for me to call you, little girl.”
The words from Claw would earn the old fool a playful cuff. Those words from Shadow earn him a growl from somewhere deep in Silver’s throat. Anger rises in her heart, but something in Shadow’s eyes forces it back down again. He’s being careful in his words. He’s choosing them very deliberately. He hasn’t shown true anger yet, not during the fight, not now. Every move he makes seems to be and have been calculated.
Silver stops when she is no more than a few yards away from him, settling back on her haunches. She cleans herself in front of him, ignoring him completely and forcing her rage back, instead giving herself time to think. This wolf is much more dangerous than he would seem at first. In a head-on fight he is also craftier. She isn’t sure if she has the energy to fight him now. He is devilishly intelligent, that much is for certain. She vastly underestimated him.
Shadow waits silently, watching her intently. Though his body seems eager and his eyes are filled with malice, his scent remains calm. She realizes it had been calm the entire fight, in the brief moments she had been able to catch it.
She finishes cleaning her fur. She slowly raises her eyes to his and does not look away. “I have not come here to mate with you, Shadow-With-Teeth. I have come here to talk.”
His eyes laugh at her. For all that she keeps her steely demeanor, Silver feels her heart sink.
It may be and may end as a hundred different things, but she is certain that this is not going to be easy.
©2012 Sam Oliver (Eris)
Here it is, part one. Next up should be the long awaited chapter three of Three Hearts, or maybe some poetry or maybe both. Time to get back in gear- and yes, there will be a page devoted to this serial short. Promise.