The trees this morning seemed to house their own plenitude of secrets...
A brisk wind ruffled my black gown, sending shards of snow adrift in a sea of white. I sat upon a solitary stump on the northern edge of camp and gazed out at the woods: what other secrets did they hold? What other specters of the past might still be out there, unbeknownst to us - haunting and gathering, waiting to make an appearance? Ever since learning about Tiefing's existence it felt like everything else was up for grabs.
Most of the Pack were still asleep. It wasn't terribly early, but a sudden drop in temperature coupled with the lack of sunlight meant that fewer wolves were interested in getting an early start today. I hadn't planned on it either, but my mind was too preoccupied with upcoming decisions to get more than a few hours' rest. That likely wasn't changing any time soon; I resolved to force myself into bed at an earlier hour in the coming nights.
Hello all! I just wanted to say thank you so much for reading my work!! If you like what you're reading please consider leaving a rating, and a comment! Feedback is not only what helps me get paid, it also helps me to improve the quality of my writing going forward. I've wanted to be an author ever since I was little, so this is literally a dream come true. It means SO much to me. Thank you all, and happy reading!!
A great many years ago, Luna's children began to define exactly Who and What they Are. Following this spiritual awakening a tradition was born: the Wolf-willing. A fire-lit dance of moonlight and flame during which we celebrate all that we Are, and all that we wish to Be. To many this involves the taking of a mate, or the re-invigoration of a partnership past or present. It should come as no surprise then that mating is common during these celebrations - whether it be for love, for lust, or for both. To the wild beat of drums do Shifters dance and toss-about, uttering shouts of ecstasy and liberation. Other times the beat draws upon only silence: perhaps the Pack (or some of it) mourns for the loss of a loved one. All of these things are a part of the Wolf-willing, for all of them are a part of who we Are as Shifters. The 'Wolf-willing' gets its name due to the nature of the tradition: the children of Luna (the moon, the great Tr
Surry tossed her hands. "Rayla, I'm barely half his age!! I was a child when his mate passed away, we both were! And he loved her so, Rayla. He still does. They were so deeply in love that I... I felt jealous, even then." She blinked. "N-not jealous of her, I mean, obviously not that!! I just... I wanted that sort of thing for myself, you know?" I gave her a hug, feeling warm. "And now you're worried about what stepping into the firelight with him might mean, is that it?" She nodded. "I've decided what I feel for him. It took me a little while, but I figured it out: I... I want him. I want to be... his. I want him to be mine. But how can I ask such a thing of him?" I chuckled. "Probably by getting your ass up to that fire and ASKING him, Surry, how else?" She sighed angrily. "You know that's not it, Rayla. How can I ask him t
In the artificial twilight between fire's glow and shadowy night, Cillium now stood before me. His face was halfway masked by darkness, but even so, I knew exactly what was written on it: concern for my safety. I almost laughed, still bent upon my knees on the snowy ground. Always my safety. No matter anything else happening around us, Cil's first priority was always my well-being... and he hadn't even known me for half a year. Some might call that obsessiveness, but not I - not about Cillium. If that didn't make him deserving of my love, then I didn't know what would. "I'm... I'm fine, Cil. I just had a moment of dizziness; must be the fire, maybe something we burned in it." He continued to stare at me, and for some reason I could tell that he looked suddenly stricken. "So I shouldn't have thrown all that animal dung in with the logs??" I choked, horrified - but he quickly began to laugh. And after I moment, I joined him
*The fog early this morning was thick, though it had grown weaker with each minute passing the dawn. It still hung in the air like a dewy coat. I rubbed some of the moisture between my fingertips as I breathed it in, and breathed it out. As per my orders, everyone had risen early today. Many were still tired from last night... Oh, last night! Last night had been so scary, yet so exciting! Though I remember very little of it. I knew that my actions had spoken the loudest, and maybe they were all that mattered - but I do remember saying a few words. And among them, I had spoken about my father. It felt so strange to say his name in front people whom I'd never brought him up with before. In fact, I had never really mentioned him to anybody. I guess I'd always gotten the feeling that I didn't belong, that I wasn't safe. But last night, after saying his name aloud in front of other Shifters (and watching their faces turn
*CILLIUM!!!* I spun in a circle, desperately seeking the source of the explosions. No no no no NOOOO!! Several other wolves around me, both friend and enemy alike, looked shocked at the interruption. Some ceased their struggles momentarily just to listen. That didn't last long however, as one of the exiles raised his head to the sun and howled, and a few others immediately took up the call. Then their fighting renewed with vigor. I howled also, from fury – trying futilely to drown out their noise. 'May the Sun damn you, Tando; may the night fuck you all the way to HELL.' One of the nearby males decided to lunge at me. His face was split into a toothy smile… I don't remember what happened next, but I do remember that afterward, my claws were reddened with blood and I was off running again. *The bonfire, people! Get there NOW!!* I dashed through the camp, doing my best to remain low and unseen. The flame lay a
I'd had a dream once. A very bad dream. In this dream, my Pack was in ruins. Our camp was devastated. I returned home from a hunt beside a group of males whom I could not recognize, only to find the ground torched, the tents razed, and all manner of objects littered around the area, broken and abused. A place not only of decimation; but one of supplication. And I beheld the sanguine orgy of corpses and of the pests that fed upon them, fed on rot. The corpses of my Packmates... The bodies of my friends. I remember staring at that scene with a nauseating kind of detachment, a clawing and scraping malignance as my very soul tried desperately to escape the harsh resin cage my flesh had become of it. I was in agony. This dream had faded quickly with the waking hours, but the feeling behind it remained: the omnipresent fear that I should fail where another might've succeeded, and that my Pack would pay the ultimate price for my hubris. Ove
"I accept." The crackle of sparks could still be heard coming from the indomitable flame before me. The entire clearing held their breath now... save for just one person. *DON'T!!!* Without taking my eyes off Tiefing I turned slightly toward the source of the cry, unsurprised at whom it came from. *Yes, Cillium.* *Don't fight him, Rayla!! We're evenly matched now! There's no reason to- * *That IS reason enough.* I sighed, feeling suddenly drained. *We've lost nearly half of our Pack today. We started with more, and we've lost more. Those who remain are tired... and not all of us are suited for battle.* I thought of Saro, and Drula, and of all the other wolves too young or old to stand up to a Pack of angry males. I had no doubt the remainder of Tiefing's crew was all exhausted as well, but they had come prepared for this – we hadn't. And I still refused to look and see
"JULIUS!!" Cil and I sprinted through the camp looking every which-way. The fog was finally beginning to lift, and unfortunately for us, the increased visibility was exactly what we didn't need right now. It might help us to find Julius, but it also meant that the only thing standing between us and a violent death was speed. We searched everywhere while we ran: we peered into tents, beneath rubble, and among groups of bodies. The carnage was horrible; every lifeless packmate I witnessed sent a chill up my spine that only served to compound my nausea – and fuel my anger. Behind me I could hear the roaring shouts of the males who hounded my Pack. I expected that most of my kin would scatter and try to find their own way up the mountains, but the trails were only a few, and I worried some of them might get run-down by their attackers before they found a viable route. As it was, it was probably best that they mostly stuck together. The few times I glanced over my