Part 1-Pain and loss.
#1 of The Mountain Valley War
The sky opened up that cold lonesome night. The lush green of the grass welocomed the rain, it's blades waved in the wind in an almost seductive way. A bolt of lightning lighted up the woods outlining dark shapes to the wolfs view.
He had been traveling through these woods for days without sign of any other creature. He looked through the dark woods as the rain fell. Standing motionless, the only sound he could hear as he perked up his ears, was that of the roaring rain. He shut his eyes for a moment, just observing the still, quite woods. The rain fell all around him as he stood, not quite fully erect. Shuddering in his innermost parts as a trickle of cold water rolled down his furry back.
He was soaked to the bone from being out all night. But he couldn't take shelter on this journey. It was his and his alone to make. The black wolf shaked off the voice in his head telling him to turn back. He knew he couldn't, this reality drove him to continue on. This time he walked completely silent through the woods. At this point there was no saving them, no hope for his village. Even if he was the "choosen one".
He walked at a slow yet steady pace, the rain continuing to run down his exposed back. This was the first time he had actually looked at himself since the incident. All he had managed to get on was his tattered hunting shorts. Other than that his charcoale black fur was exposed to the elements.
He, his whole tribe in fact had been caught off guard by the attack and many had not been able to defend themselves. They had come three moons ago and the wolf was sleeping with his father, who happened to be the cheif of the tribe, and his mother.
They had come in the night. Hardly any of the warriors for the tribe even had time to wake before they were killed. He could still hear the shrill screams of the women as their children were slain, followed by the horrible sound of their voices being silenced. He could hear that horrible sound in his head even now.
Shutting his eyes as hard as he could, the wolf tried to get the memory out of his mind. But it was a powerfull thing that kept him running...kept him surviving.
He opened his eyes to the same forrest, the same cool rain, the same determination to live. He began to run at full speed through the woods. In the opinion of the forrest, he ran as one who was running from something. In fact he was, he was running from the screams and the tears of his people. No longer did he hear the sound of his pursours, just the low dripping and roaring of the rain.
As he ran through the rain, the wolf suddenly felt the wet grass in his fur. He had fallen and was now covered in mud, dirt, and rain. Stammering to get up the wolf, brushed himself off and looked around.
The rain had now slowed to a slow drizzle, the wind continued to whistle through the large trees. The wolf had slowed to a slow walk, as his fur swayed back and forth in the cool breeze. He ran his paws the length of his head, scratching out the now dried on fur.
It was time to find shelter for the lone wolf, he had been on the run for hours and night would come soon, even though it was, to any other specie, dark enough to be considered night.
Coming up on a large oak tree, the dirty lone wolf, stared up into the darkness surrounding the large branches. This was one of the larger trees that he had seen in his young life.
He slowly put a paw on the trunk and began to climb up the oak. He had had much experience climbing trees and made the way up rather quickly. Padding onto the forking of two large tree limbs, he layed down and tried to nod off to sleep.
It was the middle of the night, the tribe had just finished a wedding cerimony and many if not all had headed to their tents for the night. Only a few of the watchmen were on their patrols that night. He had choosen to sleep in his parents tent this night out of his gut. It had saved him many times and tonight would be no difference.
A wolf patroling the outer limits of the camp stopped, spear in hand. Pointing his nose into the wind he smelled a scent that he had only smelled once before. The warrior wolf peered deep into the dark woods. The red eyes of his enemy was the last thing the warrior would see, as an arrow buried itself deep into his chest. The hardened warrior fell as a ton of bricks into the dirt, deep red blood staining the soil surrounding his motionless body..
The shapeless figures descended upon the camp without so much as a warning. They had made some noise, as some of the tribesmen were awoken, but they were not given the opirtunity to fight them off. The furs didn't stand a chance against the attack. That night the soil of the surrounding earth was mixed with the deep red blood of the tribe.
His eyes burst open as he felt a shudder rip through his body. Looking down he remembered that he was hidden among the dark limbs of the tree. His entire body was covered in a cold sweat. He could still hear the screams of his people in his head. He knew in his soul that they would always haunt him.
The lone wolf slept no more that night. He had been on edge ever since the incident and was growing more and more weary the longer he stayed in the large oak tree.
This is it, he thought to himself. If I do not leave this place, this tree I shall be hunted down and shurly shall I die. He had no idea how right he was.
Slowly sliding off the branch, he made his way down. The rain had let up and now the only thing that could be heard through the wolfs keen ear, was the low thumping of his heart. The wind no longer whistled and blew ferociously through the woods, but now blew the leaves on the ground slowly, every so often forming a little vortex. The wolf landed on the ground softly, and rather quietly.
He took a moment to take in his surroundings. Everything looked different in the early morning light There was an odd peacefullness to it all. It was what made the woods so unusual that day to the wolf, his senses took on a boost of power and he could smell, and sense the woods arround him.
Starting again on his way, the wolf began a brisk pace out of the woods. Stepping out of the treeline, he walked into the clearing. He was almost certain by now that he was not being pursued any longer. He pointed his nose into the air. He could smell the crisp freshness of a nearby mountain stream. Following the scent of the stream, the wolf came upon it. The clear blue water lapped on the rocks that bordered both sides of the stream. He looked into the crystal water, as a trout swam by. The tired wolf dipped a paw into the water. Swirling it around with his paw, he loved the feeling of the cool water on him. Placing his other paw against the first, he cupped them and brought the water to his muzzle.
This was the first drink he had had in days and it soothed him to feel the cool water run down the back of his throat. He hadn't eaten either, but he could survive without it for right now. He just wanted to get out of the territory. The risk he had taken just to stop here, in his mind, was hardly worth it, he was risking everything just now and so far he had.
Looking up at the surrounding woods, he noticed something both good and bad. He was becoming less and less familier with the surrounding areas. This ment he was reaching the end of his territory, yet, he didn't want to have to leave. This was his land. But he couldn't fight for it, not in this condition at least.
He was alone, against an unknown enemy, without any weapons. Even if he tried, he wouldn't make it very long.
Uncupping his hands, he let the rest of the water trickle back into the stream.
Standing up slowly, the wolf checked his surroundings one last time. It was a prestien place. He thought to himself, speaking a little under his breath. "I really should return when this whole mess was over is over with."
That was just it, his rational mind told him that in all likelyhood, he would not survive this whole ordeal. But he didn't want to think that way no matter what his gut told him.
The wolf stood fully erect now, his arms hanging at his side. His mind returned to the thought of what happened that fateful night. As he meditated, his eyes grew large, their golden centers lighting up.
"No..." he said aloud. "She had to have made it out, she.. just had to."
It was his wife, that made him so worried. She had stayed in a different tent that night.
She was a highly honored member of the tribe, who, despite her being a female, was extremely capable of taking care of herself. She, in his eyes should have made it out.
He looked back over his shoulder into the woods. Every single fibre of his being was shouting at him not to do it, not to turn. The voice in him seemed to scream at him. He shook his head violently and turned around. Pressing the voice to the back of his head, he ran back through the woods.
He ran back the way he had just come. Every single blade of grass, every tree branch, every single piece of fur on him was screaming for him to stop. To turn around and return to his escape.
He was making excellent time on his return, he wasn't tired on bit. He didn't want to slow down one bit, it was already very unlikely to find her, it had been three days and if she had been wounded, she wouldn't last long. He knew she was strong, but not that strong.
Coming into the clearing, the wolf saw her. The wolfess was barely concious as he pulled her out from underneath of a tattered and burnt piece of fabric. Tossing it up into the air, it sailed away, fluttering like an angel. He craddled his wife in his arms. Her fur was matted and discolored with the dried blood of her and the tribesmenbers.
There were no words uttered between the wolf and his almost dead wife.
Tears began to fall from the wolfs eyes as he knew that she wouldn't make it. He looked into her cloudy eyes and smiled. "I am sorry."
Taking her final breath. She looked deep into her husbands eyes. She could see a bright light outlining his form. She didn't want this to happen to her not now. She returned her fading gaze to the wolf. "Hunny, I...hunny Its okay, I love you."
The wolfess, with that last breath, gave up her ghost. Her lifeless, limp body lay in the arms of the wolf. He looked down at his wife, she was the one he loved, they had taken to much now. He bent his head into her chest as tears filled his eyes and soaked her fur. He suddently felt a sharp pain in his back, it was unlike any before. His vision went blury and he lost all control of his motions. Falling onto his dead wife, the wolf blacked out.