“It’s the night of the wolf” A bearded man proclaimed, his gaze strict on the moon. His dark hair was lost in the night, a stern grin crossed his face but we could all sense the tension and concern of the eldest. To my left stood the youngest, his fear was just as easily visible, he edged closer to me as his eyes darted from shadow to shadow. His light hair was easily seen in the black unlike the eldest’s hair, mine, and my age brother’s hair, all of ours identically dark. My age brother was identical to me, his hair short and black, his frame tall and wide built. He had showed no worry; an aggressive man had sprouted from the once wary child that he was. In the clearing of the trees we stood together, close enough to be safe, far enough to be alert.
Since stepping into the forest there had been no night in which we weren’t wary of whom or what may be surrounding us, staying in clearings as a final tight push of protection. We had already lost one, Father, he gave himself for us, and the night of the wolves took him as we slept. But we had little time to mourn, we had to get through, the sooner we were to reach the king’s city the better. I stared into the black abyss. “Tonight is my night. Brothers you should sleep” I whispered, not wanting to alert evil. They agreed in silence, settling into the torn linen which housed us through night. Brothers made no sounds when settling, there was too much at risk for a wish goodnight or a good luck. They lay and were taken by sleep, held in a suspended silence until the sun would rise.
The abyss had darkened, an unusual shade of black, if there ever could be one. I frowned, unsettled but holding myself confident. If I were to show true fear the night wolves would taste it in the air and know of our presence, we weren’t enough to be able to have them obtain that knowledge and so we had to lay low, surprise them if they came near. Not even eldest had seen a night wolf in his life, Father took the night of the wolves, him having known most about them, “one day” he said, he said that one day he would teach us. Such a day will never come, but I hold no hard feelings to that. I watch, searching for movement or figures in order to understand what we’re up against, for now there was nothing but my senses were on full alert.
It was reaching the end of the wolves’ night when I first heard one, my hand tightening its grip on the hilt of a silver short sword hanging from my belt. It was to the south, about 300 strides, probably a little less. I crouched lower to the ground when it howled a second time, the noise closer, heavier. I soon saw a silhouette 30 strides back from the clearing, a patch darker than the shadow. My sword slid from its sheath and I readied myself for battle. But that was no wolf, the figure was shaped like a man, if not somewhat more muscular than the normal man. My sword was lowered, but I kept myself on guard as it entered the clearing. The man was covered in hair, his large muscular frame turning out to be more bone than muscle. He staggered, as if his frame wasn’t birthed to stand on two feet. It was hostile, and it wasn’t until its claws had fed into my shoulder that his features became clear that it was revealed as a wolf. But a wolf, standing on two legs, with a broad upper frame, my head couldn’t understand it.
I threw myself back north, the beast’s claws slipping out from my flesh, and then I flung myself at it swinging my blade upwards into its stomach. It had little time to retaliate, my release from its claws somewhat shocking the monster. A second later when its senses had returned to their highest the monster swung at me with its right hand, the back of its paws hitting me, pushing me down and dislodging the blade. It turned to look south, I tried to attack but as I did it fled, the beast running not in fear but anticipation. My eyes were hazy, vision blurring. I grasped my shoulder tight and was pulled onto the floor, waking my brothers. As sleep took my body I heard the night wolf howl.
~S
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