Of Claw and Tooth, Bone and Blood Chapter 3: Finn

With a yawn and a stretch, a black wolf rose to greet the dawn.  She softly stepped to the cave mouth, pausing, her eyes scanning the area for something known only to her.  When she found it, a mischievous gleam crept into her eyes.  Staying low to the ground, she slunk towards her target, attempting silence.  When within yards of her goal, it turned and saw her, freezing her in place.

“Nice try,” came a familiar voice, “you need to watch that dry grass, noisy stuff.  Could give you away.”  A little upset her attempt had failed, Rose appeared out the tall grass she had been lurking in.  “Would have worked with a moose.” She muttered.  Rolo made a noise similar to a chuckle.  ‘I’m not a moose though, am I?”

It had been about a month since Rose’s rebellion.  Luckily for her, her opponent had looked on it as more of a learning experience than something to be punished for. Choosing to forgive and forget, he had let her rest a day, and then decided to take it upon himself to teach her how to hunt.  Although Rose had to bite back harsh words a time or two in response to Rolo’s frank criticism, by the end of the first day she killed a ptarmigan hen that fed them both.

Rolo nudged her. “Hungry?” Rose was surprised. This was the first time Rolo had spoken first in any of the conversations or lessons they had had.  She gave him a wolfish grin.  Ironically, it was the first word she had ever spoken to him. Still grinning, she glanced down where he indicated.  Lying in a row were three good sized fish. She nudged Rolo back.  “So where did the mighty hunter find fish, and more importantly, how did he catch it?”  Rolo looked at her in mock innocence. “Didn’t I tell you I was a champion bear wrestler?  No bear’s breakfast is safe from me.”  Rose glanced again at the fish, then at Rolo, a smug grin on her face. “Then where are the fish?” Rolo looked confused. “Right there.”

Enjoying herself, Rose continued, “Oh no, not these fish. The fish you wrestled from the bear.  You know, the bear with the long sharp claws that rip through scales like bark?” Rolo looked put out at these words. “You’re no fun.” He replied. Rose was a bit surprised.  Rolo seemed the type that thought only about hunting strategies and tracking skills.  The idea that he had a soft and humorous side was almost funny.  Almost.  Rose thought back a moon ago, when he’d had the chance to be rid of her permanently, but had not.  Then he had helped her to increase her own chance of survival by teaching her how to hunt and track.

        Throughout this time Rose’s irritation for Rolo had nigh disappeared.  She positively adored the white wolf, and he was the loving pack-mate she’d never had until now. Finishing breakfast, she licked her chops and sat down, waiting for Rolo to finish. Once this important task was done for the day, they had little else to do. Or so she thought.  Rolo glanced in her direction, then continued to look at her, which in a wolf’s body language is considered to be very rude. “I found something this morning,” he said in his low, rumbling voice. That clarified, he simply stood up and started off into the woods.  Getting used to his vague system of communication, Rose followed, as she knew he wanted. 

He led her silently through the forest until they reach a hidden pond.  It was large, but you couldn’t really call it a lake. Rose assumed this was where he’d caught the fish. But Rolo didn’t stop there. He continued into a nearby glade, where he stopped so abruptly she nearly ran into him.

Rose looked around to see why he stopped, and immediately spotted the moose tracks.  She couldn’t believe her eyes. She hadn’t seen any trace of moose or caribou for months.  The branches on the trees were bent back where the animal had pushed through, and it droppings were nearby.  Rose was shocked that she hadn’t smelled it.  That kind of scared her, as wolves have the sharpest noses in the business. She didn’t say anything to Rolo, but simply continued on behind him as he led to where the moose had bedded down for the night. 

She was astounded at how fresh it was. The moose had slept here only two nights before.  They still had a darn good chance to catch it. All of the sudden, for an unknown reason, Rose got the impression that they were being watched. She couldn’t smell anything, but that didn’t confirm they were alone. Rose was not as confident after she hadn’t picked up the moose’s scent. 

As she turned around to alert Rolo of her suspicions, she saw a glint of sandy-colored fur. Before she could do anything, the creature shot out of the underbrush, straight at her! It only brushed her, but its speed startled her, so she yelped. Hearing her cry, Rolo whipped around and was immediately assaulted by what turned out to be another wolf. He counter-attacked, repelling the wolf for a few seconds. In those precious few seconds, he shifted his position so Rose was directly behind him.

When the wolf came in for another attack, Rolo rushed aside, pushing Rose into the brush. This served a double purpose, as Rolo got Rose out of harm’s way but also avoided the stranger’s attack.  Then he engaged in battle.  As horrified as she was watching the two tangle, Rose was even more confused about their mysterious assailant.  Why had the wolf tracked them? Plus, why did he attack them the way he did? While she crouched, terrified, watching the wolves fight she couldn’t shake the idea that she had met another wolf that attacked in the same way, silent and without warning.

The predators broke apart, Rolo growling in a tone that was a definite threat. He was the obvious larger of the two, but the sandy wolf wasn’t small in the least.  The latter dipped his head in defeat, but Rose noticed that Rolo didn’t relax his stance. “Why?” He asked, in a way to show he expected an answer, or else. Rose was confused. Why what? She wondered. She was further confused when the sandy wolf replied.

“Did you really expect to get away so clean and easy?” he sneered, looking for the entire world as if he were in charge. “Get away?” Rolo repeated menacingly, “You make it sound as if I committed some horrible deed and left of my own accord. You know as well as I that I was not the one to be blamed.”

“Rolo, what’s going on?” Rose whispered, more scared than confused. “Shhh,” he reassured her, “it’s going to be okay.” At this the sandy wolf laughed loudly, and Rose cringed at the sound.

“Who’s the pup, and what hole did you drag her out of?” the sandy wolf said, an evil smile crawling across his face. Rolo bristled. “Get out of here.” He growled, revealing his fangs for emphasis. The other wolf mimicked shock. “Leave? But you don’t even know why I’m here. And Rolo, we wouldn’t want to repeat the past now, would we?” This simple statement seemed to hit a nerve. Rolo tensed, ready to rip this stranger to shreds.

Untitled Chapter Two

She was almost gone before we got there. It shocked me to see this gargantuan creature so weak and helpless. She had her wings, now in tatters, wrapped around her.  In the torchlight, I realized I had mistaken the size of the cave. Looking up, it was though the entire mountain top was hollow. There was easily room for a dragon to fly around or hide. Surveying the pitiful dying creature before me, I began to get an inkling of what had caused the tears in her hide.

                “Who?” questioned the man, approaching her with no fear. “Silverscales,” she rattled, “he came for the girl. She…” Narissa trailed off, looking round warily. He snorted. “We covered your blunder, worm. She ran straight to us. Lucky for you.” Narissa closed her great eyes. “ You were a fool, Quinnen. Not even I would have dared to be so bold. All of your many options and you chose her. He’ll never stop, Quinnen, until you’re dead. I only wish I could have been there to see it.” She coughed, an action that racked her entire frame. It was a wet cough that comes with dying. Quinnen, the man in the cloak, was muttering to himself.

                Narissa turned to me. “Trust his blue eyes,” she said, “above all else, trust his blue eyes.” Then the great beast heaved her last breath, and in front of my very eyes, she died. Quinnen shrugged and removed a dagger from within the confines of his robe. Sensing his intent as he moved towards the dragon, I lost it. “Don’t you dare!” I shrieked, “Don’t you touch her!” Quinnen barely acknowledged my existence as his men half-dragged me from the cave.

                I sat on a rock outside the cave, shocked. What Quinnen was doing felt akin to sacrilege. I didn’t know why, but there was a profound wrongness to it. The men were discussing the crime in terms of greed. There was good money in what Quinnen was doing. The man standing guard next to me was silent, and I got the slightest impression that he might not approve of the going-ons. But before I could discreetly look at his face to make sure, Quinnen came barreling out of the cave. “The cage!” he screamed, “you fools left the cage unguarded!” The men fled down the mountain, nearly dragging me. Needless to say, we reached the campsite in a fraction of the time the first trip had taken. Charging into the campsite with the fire they’d left burning casting an eerie glow, I noticed for the first time a metal cage of to one side of the fire. On the opposite side of the embers, near the end of the campsite, was the post I’d been tied to.

                As I was re-tied to the post, I focused on the cage. There was some kind of animal in it, but it wasn’t moving. My first thought was that it was a victim of Quinnen, and that he had killed it. But it seemed to be breathing, and my brain soon rationalized that you only cage a live animal. Studying it for a moment longer, I identified it as a wolf. My contemplation was quickly cut short by the return of Quinnen, who was still wiping a bright green substance from his dagger. I nearly retched as the smell of the blood reached me.

                He didn’t seem the least bit offended by the smell, or remorse at what he’d done. He kept glancing over at me, and I made sure that he knew I was always watching him, always with the most hateful stare I could muster. He never kept eye contact with me for very long- lucky for him.

                After a while they were all asleep again, this time without a watchman. I saw my chance. Luckily they had tied me low to the ground this time, so I had slept for a few fitful minutes. Now I attempted to grope around in the dirt behind me, searching for a sharp stone or something that could help me escape. I was just about to give up in frustration when a hand clamped on my mouth.

                Now of course my natural reaction was to scream, but luckily the stranger’s hand was strong and prevented a squeak from escaping me. I hoped this was a good thing, anyway. The way my luck was going, this may be some other unknown enemy coming to kill me. But in the next second my fears were lessened when he slit the ropes on my wrists and not my throat. A face appeared next to mine, obscured in the dim light of the dying embers. “Now the wolf,” a man’s voice whispered. I nodded, and together we crept towards the cage. One of the men started to snore, and we both froze as the sound reached us. But when he rolled over and continued to sleep, we began again our path to the cage. The man with me expertly picked the lock in silence, and gently flinging the wolf over his shoulder like it weighed next to nothing. Slinking silently out of camp, we ran off into the night.

                We kept running until right before dawn. I was near exhausted, but I mostly kept up. We entered what appeared to be the stranger’s campsite. He gently laid down the wolf and began to get out food, silent the whole time. I honestly didn’t remember the last time I’d eaten, so I postponed my questions as he handed me food. Once we were done eating, though, he looked me straight in the eyes. “Do you remember me?” He asked. Quinnen had asked the same thing, but his mood was menacing, while this man’s tone was almost pleading. I shook my head sadly. His eyes searched mine, and I jolted with a shock. Now that it was light, I could see his eyes. And they were bright blue.

                Now that I’d reached a conclusion that I might trust him, I took in the rest of his appearance. He was built strong and was fairly tan, and striking contrast to his wavy blonde hair. He probably towered a good four inches over me when he stood up straight. I discovered all this within a fraction of a moment, and realized he was still searching my eyes for recognition.

                “I’m sorry,” I said, truly feeling so, “I wish I could remember you.” His shoulders slumped. Then he looked at me again. “Aaron,” he said, extending his hand. “And Gwen, I am your friend even if you don’t remember me.” I balked a little at this. “That’s not my name,” I said warily. “Well, not your true name,” said Aaron, “but it’s what you go by as a human.” I picked up on that. “Human?” I questioned. “What everyone calls you,” he quickly amended. Pondering this turn of events, I watched as he picked up a stick off the ground and began playing with it in his hands. “What do you remember about dragons?” His question caught me off guard. “Well, not much. Just that I’m supposed to be afraid of a silver dragon, but that other than that I get the feeling that I’m friendly with dragons. But I’ve only met one since I woke up.” “Which dragon?” He questioned. “Narissa…” I began, but Aaron hissed, startling me. “Narissa Nightshade? She’s one of the dirtiest dragons known of.”

                “Well, you don’t have to worry,” I retorted, my voice rising, “she’s dead.” The stick in Aaron’s hands stopped moving. “Dead?” He questioned softly. “Yes!” I cried, “And then Quinnen, he…” There I lost it. I broke down into tears. The man in front of me bore a grim countenance-I didn’t need to finish my sentence. “What did she tell you?” He asked quietly. “Only that a dragon named Silverscales was after me and wanted me dead.” He looked slightly surprised for an instant, but then it was quickly replaced with a mask of indifference. “Huh,” was all he said. “Then I guess we’d better get moving.” He quickly began packing. “Where are we going?” I questioned. Aaron wouldn’t meet my gaze. “For the moment,” he said, “anywhere Quinnen isn’t. Then we’ll see.” I offered to carry his pack, and he consented, but still wouldn’t meet my gaze. We traveled in silence, trudging through the dense forest foliage.

                At lunch time, he led me to another campsite he apparently knew of, as a few trees had been cleared, and two rocks stood in positions to be inferred as seats. But it was well hidden for those who didn’t know of it. He took food out of his pack, and we hid the pack and the wolf in a bush a ways away.

After eating, I began my attack. “Who are you?” I demanded. I glared at him as though trying to read his thoughts. Fruitlessly. Aaron finished chewing and sighed. “Go get my pack.” He said. Unsure whether or not this involved answering my question, I obeyed. But just as I reached the bush our things were hidden in, I heard a cry that I somehow knew unmistakably to be Aaron’s. As I turned to run back, I heard him shout, “Find Aunt Zelda! Tell her I ‘needeth’!” his voice cut off abruptly, followed by the evil cackle of Quinnen. The sound froze my heart and I hid. It may have been cowardly, but it’s what I did.

                Crouching amid the twigs, I nearly stopped breathing, desperate to avoid discovery. The wolf lay silently next to me, its life barely perceptible. I felt a strange kinship to the animal, but didn’t dare touch it for fear of waking it. I needed silence at this point.

                After about half an hour of no noise, I cautiously emerged. I decided to leave Aaron’s stuff where it was, in case I had to run. I crept back to our lunch site, but it was deserted. I decided to start looking for this Aunt Zelda, though I had no idea where to go. I picked a direction and went. All I knew was that it was away from Quinnen. I stopped. It was also away from Aaron. After struggling with this for a bit, I came to the conclusion that finding Aunt Zelda was my best bet for saving Aaron.

                I was surprised how close to a town I was. Hiding in the fringes of the forest, I spotted a house on the outskirts. I decided to discreetly ask for directions. Approaching the house, I saw an older, white-haired lady working in her garden. I made noise so not to startle her. Gathering my courage I asked, “do you know of an Aunt Zelda?” She glanced up at me, then went back to work. “Who’s asking?” she inquired. “I am,” I said stupidly, then added, “and my friend Aaron.” At this the old woman looked up at me again. “Well I’m Zelda, Aunt only to a few. Where’s Aaron?”

                I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, unsure how much to tell. But Aaron trusted her, so I decided to go for broke. “He’s been kidnapped by an evil man named Quinnen.” Then I remembered, “oh, and he said to tell you he ‘needeth’, though what other than help is beyond me.”  She straightened up, not looking as old, or quite as frail as she had a moment ago. Her eyes darted around, “Inside, quickly.” She whispered.  I obeyed, slightly frightened. But once inside the back door, her tone brightened considerably. “Are we in need of some tea, perhaps?” I politely declined, and she caught my mood. “Now what exactly are we talking about here?” I told her everything, which wasn’t much, but she listened intensely.

                Nodding to herself, she mumbled, “This is serious. But I wonder…” She began rummaging in the cupboards on the far wall. “What are you doing?”  I asked, a bit impatient. “Now, now, sweetheart,” she chided, “can’t stage a rescue without some supplies.” I then noticed she had two books and several dried plants in her hands. “Are you a…a witch?” I gulped. She laughed. “Oh, of sorts,” she said, “I can create illusions of some degree and I have a fair hand at potions, but I’m not going to turn you into anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

                I relaxed. “A white witch then?” She smiled “Some would can me that.” Hefting her ‘supplies’ in her arms, she led me around the house to a corral with a beautiful chestnut mare. “Marigold,” sighed Zelda, “a dear friend and companion. She’s very intelligent as far as horses go.” She looked me up and down. Then she turned back into the house, returning with riding clothes. “Try them on,” she said, “unless you want to ride bareback and sidesaddle.” I quickly changed into the blouse and riding pants, and we were off.

                We soon reached the lunch site, where Zelda dismounted and checked the ground. “My guess is that they went that way,” she said, pointing the way I’d heard the men leave. I nodded in agreement. After that we walked Marigold, to avoid the extra noise and to not lose the trail. After about an hour, Zelda quietly dismounted and motioned for me to follow her. Marigold stood where we left her, patiently grazing. We crept forward through the trees, and Quinnen’s campsite came into view. I quickly spotted an enraged Aaron tied to a post. I shuddered at the scene that was a little too familiar, considering I’d been in the same position a day ago.

                Zelda motioned for me to listen and keep my mouth shut. I understood. An exclamation on my part would mean discovery. I cringed as Quinnen leaned forward and slapped Aaron across the face. Quinnen’s smile was nothing less of triumphant and evil, gloating, “Well now, not so fierce without your scales, are you?” I turned questioningly to Zelda, but she warned me to be silent. Shock took over my features as I listened further. “Ha!” said, Quinnen, continuing to gloat, “See that pretty pouch ‘round your neck, my friend? That’s clover, and try shape-shifting with it on!” He paced back and forth in front of Aaron, whose expression was downright murderous. His blond hair hung in his eyes, but it didn’t hinder the potency of his gaze.

                “Thought you could outsmart me?” continued Quinnen, “It was almost too easy to  catch you. Narissa was so sure I’d be no match for you , and look where we are! Not quite as frightening like this, eh, Silverscales?” I gasped. Luckily it was covered by Quinnen’s laughter, but confusion and betrayal swept through me. Zelda was there, dragging me back, pushing me towards Marigold. I blindly mounted and we cantered back to our lunch site. Once there, I slid to the ground and just sat there, staring.  Zelda quickly used magyks to start a fire and was soon handing me a cup of soup she’d produced from who knows where.

                She then lifted my chin so I was looking into her electric blue eyes. “What are you thinking?” she queried. I turned away, “I’m wondering when people are going to stop lying to me.” She turned my face back to hers. “Who’s lied to you?” She demanded. “Narissa, Quinnen, and…” I choked, “and Aaron. I trusted him. I TRUSTED him.” She gave me a stern look. “You’re wrong,” she said, “Narissa is the only one. Evil as he is, Quinnen never lied to you. And what,” she emphasized, “precisely has Aaron lied to you about?”

                I looked at her in disbelief. “He wants me dead! He used me!” The white-haired witch shook her head. “Aaron didn’t use you, and he certainly doesn’t want you dead. I know personally that he’s been searching for you because her cares about you. He’s on your side, trust me.” I glared at her, saying, “He’s Silverscales! He’s a dragon! If he’s truly my friend, why didn’t he tell me?”

                Zelda thought for a moment. “Did you tell him everything you told me?” I nodded. “Think about it, Gwen. How would you feel if you rescued someone whom you care about, and they accused you of attempting to kill them? You probably hurt him very deep, and he would want to prove his friendship before revealing his identity as a dragon.” Then she looked as though deep in thought. “Did Aaron leave you anything?”

I nodded. “His pack and…” I trailed off. It was kind-of random. “And?” she prompted me. “And a wolf that seems as though dead.” Surprisingly her face brightened at this. “Where?” she asked excitedly.  I showed her to the bush with the hidden things and she pulled back the branches, and inspecting the pack. Once done, she turned to me. “Gwen, have you touched this animal?” I shook my head. “Um, no. Why?” She took a deep breath. “Gwen, do you trust me?”

“Yes,” I replied. Strangely, I meant it. Apparently I learn to trust fast. “Touch the wolf.” She said. I looked at her quizzically. That was a weird request. But as soon as my finger tips brushed the dark fur, I felt a gust of air. I closed my eyes, and when I opened them, they were the eyes of a wolf.

Of Claw and Tooth, Bone and Blood Chapter 2: Rolo

It was a wolf.  He was a magnificent creature, standing about three feet at the shoulder, a full six feet in length, and he was a pure snow white.  He stood defiant, tail in the air, teeth glistening.  This was an animal that knew he was in charge.  He growled at Rose, causing her to retreat a step.  This uncovered the squirrel, which made the white wolf pause.  He stared at it, next switching his gaze to Rose, then back. Strangely he sighed, slumping from his proud stance to the picture of defeat.  For some reason unknown to her, this made Rose relax her position as well.

        The wolf took one last look at the squirrel, then turned around and began to leave.  Rose could see that he had a slight limp on his right hind leg, and that although he was big, he was getting skinny.  Running through the options in her head, she swiftly made a decision.  Standing tall, she let loose one sharp, short bark.  The white creature stopped and looked back in her direction. “Hungry?” she whimpered.

The wolf stared back with a cold glare, but then sighed once more and gave a quick nod. She nudged the squirrel in his direction, inviting him to have some.  The wolf slowly came forward, but Rose could tell he was near starvation.  He picked it up, bit off half, proceeded to retreat a few steps back. He flopped to the ground, apparently exhausted from his chase. “My name is Rose.  What’s yours?”  The wolf remained silent, chewing slowly with his head down.  “Do you have a name?” She prodded further.  After a few moments the wolf stopped eating and looked up. “Rolo.” He grunted, returning to his small meal. “Rolo,” repeated Rose, rolling the name around in her head.  Apparently satisfied, she began to eat her share of squirrel.

¨      ¨  ¨  ¨  ¨  ¨  ¨

Rose was content.  As content as a near-starving wolf could be.  She was walking beside Rolo beneath the rising sun, glad the white wolf had agreed to let her stay with him.  They both knew that their chances of survival were better if they together, whether they liked it or not.  Rose had quickly discovered that Rolo was not one for talking, which silently irritated her.  She was slightly worried too.  Rolo had only said that he had shelter and that she could come, and in fewer words than that.  Rose had no idea what lay in store, or what Rolo’s idea of a shelter was.  It could be a furrow in the ground with no covering, or a hollow tree like she had slept in.  But even though it might be a bad idea, Rose couldn’t help liking Rolo and trusting him.  As his expression was blank, like always, she had no clue what he thought of her.  This trust was going to be a problem. Although Rose had little experience with trust, from what she knew it was a two-way connection. She was pretty sure that unless Rolo expressed his trust of her, they would never be comfortable around each other.

¨ ¨ ¨ ¨ ¨ ¨ ¨

         Around evening they reached the den.  Rolo’s idea of a shelter exceeded Rose’s highest hopes.  It was a small cave with a narrow entrance. This was good for two reasons. One, since it was a small cave their body heat would quickly warm up the place, and the narrow entrance trap the heat. Two, with such a small cave mouth, nothing extremely dangerous could get in, other than weasels, which probably wouldn’t come around anyway.  Plus, there was a stream right outside the entrance, providing fresh water. Then right around the corner was a large clearing, which she found to be plentifully stocked with fowl.

        This puzzled her some, as she could easily tell that Rolo was losing weight rapidly, on the point of starving.  Simply enjoying the peaceful surroundings, she wasn’t paying attention.  Hearing the snap of a twig, she whipped around.  It was only her friend. As he walked toward her, she once again noticed his limp, more pronounced after their long trek. All of the sudden it clicked into place. Rolo was starving because his limp.  It slowed him down a great deal, made it impossible to catch birds as they took flight.  That was why he had chosen to chase a squirrel instead, as it was easier to keep on the ground. A bird can escape to the skies, but a squirrel is limited to the trees. Much easier to catch.

        “Can you hunt?” Rolo growled in a no-nonsense sort of way. “Actually, I’m fairly good,” replied Rose, irritated that he thought her incompetent. This irritation had been growing the whole day. “Prove it,” he challenged.  Rose balked.  She had hunted big game only, besides the squirrel, and did not know how to hunt birds.  But strangely, normally shy and docile Rose felt like she couldn’t back down to such a challenge.  This was a new feeling, like when she had defended her kill.  It welled up within her and boosted her confidence.

         She thought for a moment, deciding how to attack the situation, and more importantly, the birds. Then a smug wolfish grin crossed her face.  Backing up to get a running start, she barked.  Birds filled the air, startled out of their hiding places in the grass.  She ran and confidently launched herself into the air, snapping this way and that to grab a bird. No luck.  She hit the ground hard, and stayed down.  Not because the fall had hurt her, but because of shame.

        She heard Rolo approaching, but did not look up.  “Ever seen a bird before?” he rumbled.  Rose snapped her head up and glared. “Of course,” She replied indignantly.  “Well, you wouldn’t have known it by that display,” Rolo growled.  Rose was just about fed up with this wolf.  “Like you could have done better,” she huffed, standing up and shaking herself off.  “I couldn’t have done better,” he growled, sticking out his injured leg for her to see, “but I would have known better.”

        “What’s that suppose to mean?” she replied in the beginnings of a growl. 

“Simple.  What you did was foolish and unplanned, the sort of thing a pup would do.”

        That was it, Rose was through.  She had been irritated to begin with, and now he had outright insulted her! She had been pushed around and criticized her whole life, and enough was finally enough. She felt that feeling start to well within her again, boosting her.

She raised her hackles, growling.  These were the preliminaries to a fight.  Doing what she had seen in countless pack squabbles, Rose began to move, expecting Rolo to start circling against her, so she could not get closer to him, nor him to her.  They would keep this up until one lunged at the other, starting the fight.  But there was one problem.  The other wolf didn’t move.  Nor did he move until she was within a few feet of him.  With no sound to anticipate his intent, he silently lunged at her.  Rose was so shocked that she couldn’t move fast enough to avoid the attack.  The white wolf’s fangs slashed at her side, but when Rose whirled around, he was nowhere to be seen.  Suddenly she felt an attack from the other side, as Rolo once again assaulted her, this time ripping at her shoulder.

She lunged back, her fangs looking for a hold anywhere on this white phantom.  And a phantom he was.  Once, twice, three times Rose lunged, but he was never there.  Bewildered that she was getting nowhere, the dark wolf paused.

This was all the time that Rolo needed.  He barreled at her, hitting her shoulder with such force it knocked her to the ground.  In this moment, Rose knew what would happen.  She had seen it happen time and time again with the innumerable prey she had watched brought down. Now that she was down, her neck was exposed, which included her life’s blood.  She fully expected no mercy from her opponent. 

But, much to her surprise, Rolo merely stood over her, growling low in his chest. “Finished?”  Rose gave a small, subtle nod, but there was venom in her gaze.  Rolo didn’t move, but continued to stare down at her. They stood like that for a few moments, as though suspended in time, until finally Rose sighed and nodded again, accepting defeat.

Rolo stepped aside, and she slowly stood up.  She considered attacking the wolf again, but then started to feel pain seep into her shoulder.  It had been bruised in her scuffle with the pack, and then Rolo had attacked it.  It was bleeding, and the pain increased as she finished standing up.  As she began to follow Rolo back to the cave, she had to pause every few steps, wincing with pain.  During one of these stops, Rolo wordlessly turned back and swiftly moved to her side.  When she began to move again, he stayed with her, silently matching her stride.  When they reached the mouth of the cave, Rose was allowed entrance first, and was helped up the small ledge.

After getting settled, she began to use her rough tongue and teeth to clean the rip on her shoulder.  After completing this task, she curled up.  As she did so, a body slid close to hers.  Snuggling into the white fur for as much comfort as warmth, she drifted off to sleep.

Imagination Chapter Three: We Become Masters of...Nothing

I didn’t know about everyone else, but by the time we started making lunch, I was ready to lose it. Laura, Paige, and Bri had taken Bri’s car to go get Roxberry, and I was sitting on the couch, unoccupied. Mikayla, Magaret, and Kensey were cooking pizza, while Lacy and Sara made salad.  I tried to help Rachelle set the table, but she was adamant that I do nothing to aggravate my arm. Which by her definition meant sitting on the couch.

But I couldn’t stand it. I needed to help, to keep my mind and hands busy. I was jumpy, and instinctively kept checking the windows. The same scenes were replaying in my mind; the gashes appearing on my arm, Laura’s phone call, Sara collapsing, and the tiger closing in on us.  I shuddered. I could still see its eyes. I had never seen eyes like that. They were evil, intelligent, and a deep, sparkling violet.

Violet! I shot off the couch. “Guys!” I said, a little too loud, perhaps, as they all jumped. Just as I opened my mouth to continue, Bri, Laura, and Paige returned bearing fruity goodness. We hurried to get the food on the table. After we had prayed and begun eating, I ventured bringing up my discovery again. “Um…” I wasn’t sure where to begin. What did it mean, anyway? “I just thought of something, something that proves that tiger wasn’t normal.” They all stopped eating. “When it was closing in on us,” Marci shuddered at this, “I noticed its eyes. They weren’t normal cat eyes. They were a dark, sparkling violet.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Lacy, “I stared into those evil eyes as much as you. They were evil, yes. Hungry? Yes. But purple?” The others looked at me curiously. Bri studied me through thoughtful eyes as she sipped her Roxberry. With a curiosity in her gaze, she stood up, went over to Rachelle’s computer, and sat down. We all watched her in confusion. She typed for a bit, scrunched her face in thought, then smiled. “Voila!” she said, “I’ve got it. Come here, you guys.”

Lacy shrugged and walked over to where Bri was. We all followed, food forgotten. Well, except for Paige snagging her smoothie as she walked by. We all crowded around the computer, trying to see what Bri was talking about. But she minimized the window and swung the chair around to face us.  She looked at me. “Jen, do you know what your name is a derivative of?” I shrugged. It was another one of those pieces of information I just knew. “Sure, it comes from Guinevere, Gaelic.”  She smiled. “You’re half right,” she informed me, “It is from Guinevere, but it’s not Gaelic, it’s Welsh. And do you know what it means?” I shook my head, confused what this had to do with my discovery. Bri had the look of a proud student presenting an A report card to their parents. “Guinevere,” she continued, “is Welsh for white phantom.”

***********

Bri explained her theory. “Think of it this way. You saw the tiger’s eyes as being violet, but Lacy just saw a crazed jungle animal.” Here Lacy interrupted with a comment with the fact it was a tiger in Cedar Hills, and that on its own was freaky enough. Brianna glared at her, then continued, “and you were the first to see the tiger, first one attacked. There’s something different about you, Jen. Something the rest of us aren’t seeing.” At this, I backpedaled.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” I said, “hold up. What are you getting at? That this is somehow my fault? I don’t know what’s going on anymore than anybody else in this room.” Bri shook her head and began to talk again, but Magaret interrupted. “I don’t think that’s what she’s saying at all, Jen. I think it’s like what Mikayla said earlier. About the reason why our phantoms are real. That our phantoms were made real to fight an evil that already existed. You’re the leader. White is always the good side, right? You were the one who created the phantoms in the first place.” Bri nodded in agreement.

“The leader? No. No way, no how. Besides, we’re all equal here. Why do we have to have a leader?” Laura looked at me in a strange way. She then turned to the others. “Who thinks Jen’s supposed to be the leader?” They all nodded or raised their hands. “then it’s settled,” she said, giving me the look that made me think twice about questioning her. “Arrrrgggghhh!” I said, throwing my hands up in frustration.

Since apparently I had no say in the matter, I let it drop. Grumbling, I suggested we return to lunch before I decided to eat something else nearby. While eating, we discussed why the tiger’s eyes would be purple, why our phantoms looked almost like shadows, and why Paige’s phantom had a name. That one confused us, as it wasn’t really a name that she would have picked out. I drummed my fingers on the table. Nuka. Why did that sound familiar? It nagged at my thoughts but refused to become clear. Soon lunch was over, dishes were washed, and we were back in the living room.

McKensey sat in the middle of the floor, playing with her bunny. “They can’t simply be shadows,” she said, “I mean, I can pick her up and pet her, feel her warm fur. She feels just like any other bunny.” To prove her point, Kensey picked up the little black creature and nuzzled her. Mikayla looked at her. “Can I pet her? I need a calming influence right now.” In reply, Kensey held out the bunny. Mikayla happily reached forward, only to whip her hand back moments later. “That’s not normal!” she said. Surprised by her reaction to the cute cuddler, we asked for an explanation.

She explained that her hand had passed right through the bunny, as though it was made of nothing but light or shadow. McKensey claimed this could not be true, as she was obviously holding a live creature.  Rachelle was the first to come up with an idea. “maybe it’s because our phantoms are a part of our own imaginations. We can all see each others' phantoms, but we can’t touch them because they aren’t a part of us, just the person to whom they belong.” Paige liked this idea, except she pointed out something grim. “But if that’s true, then whose imagination created the tiger phantom?” Horrified looks swept across the room. None of us had thought of that. Out of nowhere, Laura randomly added, “my phantom’s name is Qimmi.”

We all stared at her. “What are you talking about?” Sara asked. Laura looked kind-of confused. “I don’t know,” she said, “It was like all of the sudden I just knew. It just came to me.” Paige jumped in. “That’s the same thing that happened to me! It was just like WHAM and I knew it was my phantom’s name.” she turned to the rest of us.  “Do your phantoms follow commands? Like verbal commands?” Puzzled, I watched as the others admitted, no, not really, more just like sending thoughts out. I had always used both verbal and non-verbal commands with my wolf. It had never occurred to me that this might not be the case for the others.

Paige continued, “Well ever since I knew my phantom’s name she has followed both verbal commands and the thought sending thing you guys do. She’s developed her own personality, now that I think about it.” Intrigued, Magaret asked her to demonstrate. Paige brought out her bear and asked it to do a few things, like sit and stand and come.

 I wasn’t that impressed, but the others were. Sara brought out her hawk and asked it to fly to the window. It didn’t move. But when she looked like she was concentrating, apparently asking the hawk mentally, it immediately flew to the window. Hmmmm, interesting, I thought, my phantom doesn’t have a problem with verbal commands, but it doesn’t have a name. I decided to keep it to myself for the time being. I didn’t want another thing to point me out as different from the others. I was still trying to convince them that I wasn’t supposed to be the leader.

I was brought back to the conversation by applause. The others were watching Laura ‘train’ her phantom to follow verbal commands. It seemed to be going well. I smiled and laughed with the others as it looked at her in a confused way when she asked it to come. The dog tilted its head to the side, cocked its ears, and sat patiently awaiting a command that it understood. Laura sighed, concentrated, and the dog bounded over to her. “Well, it’s a start,” she said, “but maybe it’ll get better.”

All of the sudden a thought hit me like a battering ram. I said it before even registering what it was. “They’re not phantoms anymore. They’re viri.” I slapped my hand across my mouth. What had I just said? What the heck was a viri? But as soon as I had the thought, my mind confirmed it as truth, settling it into my brain as though it had always been there. Unfortunately I had to explain to the others, and Laura nodded in approval. “See? I told you that you were meant to be the leader. You know things, things that none of the rest of us know.” I sighed.  There was no getting out of it, the others had accepted it. But why? I wasn’t the smartest, cleverest, strongest, or even nicest in the group. Out of the ten people in this room, I was probably the least qualified.

Mikayla slid next to me and wrapped her arms around me. I hung onto her, eager for comfort. But, lucky me, about two seconds later I jumped off the couch. “My phantom’s name is Ama.” Excited, the others encouraged me to try verbal commands. I brought out my viri, as it was apparently now called, and tried a few simple commands. I knew they would all be obeyed, Ama had always been totally obedient and loving, and now that she had a name, her enthusiasm was unrestrained. I had to command her to be still so that I could wipe all the wolf slobber off my face after I told her to ‘come’. She had enjoyed that command thoroughly.

After playing with all of our phantoms in the living room, and laughing till our sides hurt, we all slumped to the floor in exhaustion. “Let’s go play in the backyard,” Marci suggested, “It’s fenced and the rain has stopped.” Feeling much safer than we had just hours ago, we agreed. The yard proved a much better place to romp with our animals, and soon we were running around in a fierce game of tag. It was a little complicated since we couldn’t actually feel any of the viri but our own, but we made it work.

It was all fine until the ball went over the fence during our dodge ball game. I volunteered to go get the ball, and when the others expressed concern, I reassured them. I would take my viri with me, and the tiger probably wasn’t going to come back for a while. Opening the gate, I saw the ball sitting in a flower bed a few feet away. Calling back to the others, I started towards it. That was when Ama rushed in front of me and started shoving me frantically towards the gate. I took the hint and abandoned the ball, running for the backyard. Scared, I took my viri back inside me. I was inches from safety when I heard the roar, and everything went black.