Awoooooooo!!

Awoooo!

Awoooooo!

Gruooooooo!

Master, wolves finish soon.

Greenie squints his eyes, covering his eyes with one hand at the dust kicked up into the air by the sight before us.

Yes, indeed.

With green nostrils flared widely, he huffed out deep, heavy breaths after the long exertion of chasing after the wolves on their hunt.

It was just us, one raven and one goblin hiding behind a large rock, tailing after a pack of wolves on the hunt.

Back at our cave, Andvari was busy digging footholds into the sides of the large, pitch black, creepy hole.

I’d warned him to be careful, but the dwarf didn't seem to care. The way he moved as he lowered himself into the hole; I could sense his excitement about something. He only came out to eat and drink, otherwise, all he did was strap the much larger sword to his waist using some vines Greenie and I’d previously braided together. The sword was the only tool he used to dig.

Whenever he wanted to come out, Andvari’s thin muscles would ripple as he climbed the large knots on the thick root rope we’d created and anchored to a nearby boulder in the cave. Almost like a monkey, so quick were his movements as he disappeared into the gaping mouth of that dark hole.

Every. Single. Day.

It was what he’d chosen to do after it was clear enough that a blind dwarf wasn’t very useful running around in a wild forest. A forest that was filled with creatures and plants that wanted to eat you. While wolves with a vendetta against me prowled the area.

Dwarves are as stubborn as the rocks that birthed them.

Crixus had said, one of the times he’d stopped by, returning after “training”. For some reason, the wolves didn’t seem to bother him. I think it was because of his sheer size, even without his arms. Whenever I asked him how he was training, he would only wink back with the cryptic comment:

Now, now, Lady, you, of all creatures, would know best.

I’d just stared back at him, my beak open in confusion, which Crixus took as an agreement, tilting one broken horn towards me…

All I knew was that every morning, Crixus was gone, his hoof tracks leading in the direction of the Ironwood grove.

Either way, we didn’t have much time. Food was running out. While the Minotaur and dwarf did what they wanted, Greenie and I’d been busy preparing to weaken the Wolf pack.

Greenie, have a drink of water. They won’t notice us here.

I point my beak towards the gourd hanging at Greenie’s waist. This was yet another one of our finds here in the forest the two called the Wildlands. Tied at his waist was a small lumpy gourd filled with water, the slingshot, and a small cloth tied together into a bag holding pebbles.

Nodding, Greenie crouches behind the large rock we were hidden behind. uncorks the moss keeping the gourd sealed, and gulps down the water, droplets spraying on his neck as he desperately gulps. We’d run a lot, chasing after the pack, who in turn, chased the herd.

In the meantime, I carefully climb to the top of the rock and peer at the wolf pack hunting before us. The Wolf King wasn’t here. This was one of the smaller pack he ruled over, one of the many that ran around this forest.

I clack my beak in frustration. I was getting tired of living tiptoeing around the wolves at all times. Especially since they would chase us every time they caught a glimpse of either Greenie or me. Each time, we’d been lucky enough to lose the wolves. But this lifestyle couldn’t go on forever.

Which was good, but also bad, for many reasons. Good because with the test I was attempting, there was a lesser chance of things going wrong with a smaller test group. Bad, because if things went the way I hoped it did, then the Wolf King should have been here...

Ouch.

I’d gritted my beak too hard. Opening my beak wide, I stretch.

There seemed to be more and more wolves increasing in the area around our cave. Almost…as if they were tightening the area closer and closer to where we quietly lived.

Greenie still didn’t understand why we were following them most of the time, even though I’d explained it to him. He wanted to go wander around the forest, looking for scraps of what was practically roadkill to scavenge. The only issue was, there wasn’t much of that around here anymore. With the wolves moving into this area, they’d flourished. Scraps we did find were bits of bones, and that wouldn’t be able to feed the three of us. Crixus was truly the lucky one in this regard. I was jealous. He had the choice of being a herbivore, and he looked quite happy munching away on the tall grasses and wild moss he’d find growing here and there.

I shake my head, focusing on the wolves who’d finally separated one lone creature from its herd.

A long-necked creature cries out, long white tail creating small gusts of wind as it bounds through the air. It was one of the smaller grey creatures Appraisal told me was called an Antora. With two-pronged hooves and long spindly legs that beat against the forest grounds, it was a creature that moved swiftly in small groups around the forest. It was also a creature that was impossible for Greenie and I to catch. Whenever we got close to a herd of Antoras grazing, they were gone, leaping over bushes and roots and disappearing before Greenie had a chance to throw his spear.

But even a fleet-footed Anotra, with all its speed and sensitivity to danger, would be vulnerable in the right circumstances. The wolves were smart, knowing that weakness and exploiting it. It wasn’t going to be easy finding a way to get rid of them all.

And it was an Antora the wolves hunted now, picking an older Antora out of the herd with a limply hanging long grey nose and balding pelt.

Flapping my wings to stay balanced atop Greenie’s shoulder, I'd never taken my eyes off the wolf pack as they harassed the lone Antora. They’d silently surrounded the grazing Antora herd in a loose U-shape, and scared them towards the tall mountain, where there were fewer trees and more loose rocks and dead roots. That put the pressure on the fleeing herd as they’d stumbled over the uneven footing, letting out agitated moans as the wolves nipping at their heels.

Watching them, I knew I couldn’t use the same method I’d used on the Subterranean Rats with them.

All in all, the rats were a lot dumber than the wolves, made more so by the Thought Transmission ability they’d had. The rats blindly followed the leader, unable to make their judgments when they’d chased after me.

But the wolves knew what to do. Each member of the pack had their roles as they hunted. Another thing was the wolves knew the lay of the land too well. They knew where the lake was, would probably smell the scent of the water before I got them close enough to the cliff edge.

My goal now was to whittle their growing numbers as small as I can, so that there were fewer obstacles in the way once I clashed with the Wolf King. From their pack instincts, I was pretty sure once I killed the Wolf King, they wouldn’t be bothering us anymore. I hoped so, anyway.

Master, drink too.

I let Greenie dribble some water into my beak, focusing one eye on Greenie while using the other side of my head to keep a watch on the end of the hunt.

Thanks..

After the few days spent observing them, I knew that the Antora was the main creature the wolves preferred to eat. And I was going to use that against them.

Gruooooo…..

The old Antora finally succumbs, falling in a heap.

I turn away as the wolves descend upon their prey, ripping at the wounds they’d already created on the grey haunches that bled fresh blood. Another spray of blood rises in the air, blowing the rich metallic scent towards me as other wolves rip out the poor creature’s throat.

The blood seemed to flow a little too well, staining the wolves' muzzles as they feasted on their prey.

Did it work?

Anticipation thrums through me, making me shift atop the rock. Greenie slowly peers over the top of the rock and joins me in observing the wolves.

The wolves sure did have an appetite.

Food… Why let go, Master?

My goblin buddy transmits to me, shoulders sagging forlornly. I understood why he felt that way. After all, the weak Antora the wolves were devouring now was the very same Anotora we’d caught a few hours earlier. One of many. It was easy once I’d been lucky enough to hear the cry of a baby Antora. All I’d had to do was copy that cry with some added emotion of hurt and pain, and the Antora’s had come running. Right into the hole I’d had Andvari and Greenie create. The grunt work for that was pretty easy. Andvari would find a weak spot, and Greenie would dig. By collapsing one of the tunnels close to the surface near our cave, we’d created the perfect trap.

All that was left was time me to a rope and lower me into the hole, calling the beasts to me.

I’d almost lost control of my bladder seeing a herd of the long-necked beasts come jumping into the hole I was in. Luckily, Greenie yanked me out in time, which earned him an extra-large portion of the last of the rats for dinner that night.

No Greenie, that’s not our food, remember?

I gently remind him.

That’s our bait.

Just a little bit more….

The wolves take turns feeding upon the bloody carcass, no longer recognizable. Which was fine by me, I wanted every single member of this wolf pack to have eaten the Antora before the Wolf King noticed what was up.

Some wolves stand guard while the others eat, until every single one of them’s had their share.

Master?

Not yet, Greenie.

We wait some more, Greenie playing with the feathers on his spear.

Master?

No, not yet, Greenie.

Greenie looks down, scratching absent-mindedly at his chest.

I ignored his fidgeting as I wastch the wolves eat their fill, communicating with each other using yelps and short barks.

But then I feel Greenie's gaze on my back.

Mas-

A little longer, Greenie.

Was this what my parents felt like when i was a kid? I apologize quitely in my head to my parents as I hear Greenie clacking his teeth together behind me in boredom, waiting. Sigh... I turn, tapping on Greenie’s shoulders with my beak:

You should get comfortable. For now, we wait.

A large grey wolf trips over a tree root.

Crack!

Branches snap as a wolf stumbles, then falls on its side, grey tail hanging limp. Another female wolf pants heavily on her haunches, head bobbing up and down as if she’d just finished a long run. But she hadn’t. They’d only consumed the Antora.

Another wolf whimpers, lying on its side and burying its head between its large paws.

That makes me smile.

And then another.

And another falls.

Yelps and weak howls to each other as the wolves litter the area around the bones of the Antora, until even the youngest of them are still.

The strong metal scent of blood remained in the air.

Did it work?

It was too early to say for sure. I wouldn’t do a victory chicken dance just yet.

Squinting my eyes at the wolves, I stare at their bodies for any sign of movement. Wait- No, that was just the wind ruffling their fur.

Not one of them was moving.

Some of them were collapsed, eyes glassy looking and muzzles still open and stained with blood.

It should be all clear.

Scent Detection was telling me it worked…but better to be safe than sorry.

Sighing, I look down at my still-splinted wing. It was feeling a lot better, but the slight pain remained when I moved it.

If only I could fly, then things would be so much easier..Sigh..I miss using my wings…I want to see how pretty I look now in the lake and preen my feathers…

With another heavy sigh, I roll my shoulders? back and focus.

Were there any wolves out there still moving?

I wait a few minutes longer to make sure no wolf gets up, before tapping at the goblin that sleeps at the foot of the rock.

Nope. It was all clear.

Greenie, wake up!

With my nudging, the goblin jolts awake into a crouching stance, as if he'd been awake all along. Though him rubbing at his eyes detracted from that.

Finish, Master?

Yep! Now, we can go look.

Nodding, Greenie picks me up, readjusting his grip on his spear decorated with my feathers.

Yellowed canines gleam as he grins at me.

Dead? He asks.

I think so.

Slowly, with me on Greenie’s shoulder, we approach the scene. The sound of birds singing to each other makes the scene seem peaceful like the wolves were only sleeping. Yet, even as Greenie drew closer, not one of them rose to meet us. Not one of them moved a muscle, nor did their stomachs move to take in a breath.

My feathers rise as I stared hard at them. They looked like they were only asleep.

Grey bodies laid littered around in the radius of what was left of a bloody Antora in the center.

It’d been easy.

With the wolves’ smaller bodies in comparison to the Antora, it hadn’t taken long for the poison to take effect. I’m sure with all the running from the hunt that sent blood pumping faster through their veins, it had taken even less time.

After all, all I’d done was poison the wolves by poisoning their food.

It all started when I’d noticed how easily the rats seemed to bleed out when we threw them into the Siphon Bushes. Compared to when they bled out normally, the blood flowed out at a much faster pace. After a quick test on Crixus, I’d confirmed it: There was something in the Siphon Bush that prevented blood from clotting.

And that was what I’d used against the wolves.

Chopped up Siphon Bush vines. That was the poison I’d fed the Antora herd in the pit we’d created, and in turn, had poisoned the wolves.

They’d died from internal bleeding...

It was practically a massacre.

No, it was a massacre.

Every wolf that had eaten the Antora laid dead in the clearing.

Greenie prods the nearest grey wolf with his foot, but it doesn’t move, lifeless.

Master…

Sensing the note of awe in the goblin’s voice, I wince.

I wasn’t exactly proud of what I had done. But we needed to survive. And I was going to have to kill more of these wolves.