Whoosh!

The entire village was on fire.

“Mama! Our home! Papa won’t be able to find us!!”

A young boy clenches his fists into tight balls, tight enough to draw blood from his palms while he struggled to break free of his mother’s hold.

Why was this happening!? Today was supposed to be a good day. He’d been sure of it, ever since he glimpsed a flash of gold in the grasses of the Plains that very morning. That had to be the feathers of the Gold Iarudi, bringing him luck. For it had been the day when Papa would finally take him on his first Hunt.

Squinting his eyes against the black dust the flew into his eyes, straining to see, the boy searches for the tall figure of his father. Yet there was no shape or shadow, except for the ambiguous forms traced out by burning grasses and flickering crimson flames.

Where was Papa? He hadn’t come back from checking the traps like he said he would.

Not even when the great open sky turned as red as the fire that scorched the earth. Not even when the the smoke coated the young boy's tanned skin gray.

Hearing the soft murmuring into his hair and feeling the rough hand that was stained red with blood stroking through his terribly shorn scalp, the boy stilled in defeat.

Then, he hadn’t known the meaning of shaving his head yet. It wasn’t his fault. The long hair that grew down his back had caught fire when he ran towards the wall of flames, crying out for his father. With tears in her eyes, Mama had cut off his hair and let the hot air blow it away.

He didn’t understand why she was so sad. Papa should be coming back any minute now!

“I am with you, my son. Keep still.”

Anguished bellows and blasts of hot, smoky air buffeted long, curly strands of hair that disappeared into the fires. Disappearing into the dark smoke and red blaze that devoured his village, a young boy watched silently.

Watched until his mother pulled him away by the hand, until the grass thatched hut that was his home, too, disappeared within the inferno; the last memory a young boy would have of his home.

Kiek?!

High-pitched goblin cries of distress echo off the cave walls. There was Greenie, releasing his hold on one of Crixus’ heavy hooves and backing away from Crixus.

What’s going on!!?

Unable to see beyond the wall of wolves surrounding Crixus, I squirm between the furry bodies.

Is he alright!?

The newly evolved Minotaur spasmed on the ground, body jerking while he groaned in pain.

Crixus!?

Where does it hurt!!?

He doesn’t respond, groaning through clenched teeth and huffing heavily. No matter how many times I call out to him, he lays on the ground, body twitching in shivering jerks.

The spasms were strong, so strong that he easily threw Greenie’s heavy weight off his chest when the goblin tried to settle him down by standing on top of him.

For a split second, I consider sticking a wing down his throat to try and make him throw the Tear back up. As if he’d read my mind, Greenie tries prying the Minotaur’s mouth open, to no avail. Though the other wolves came to help him, doing their best to hold down the thrashing Crixus, it didn’t work. The best he could do was pry Crixus’ lips up to reveal his tightly gritted teeth.

Yelping, the wolves suddenly back off from Crixus, pawing on the ground towards his shoulder-stumps.

From my position on the ground, it didn’t take long for me to get up close and personal, seeing what was happening to the thick scar tissue that rounded off his bare shoulders.

Muttering, Crixus twists his body, crying out something..

With heavy breaths, Crixus lay on the ground, ridged brows tightly drawn together as he groaned once again.

"Aca...aca!"

What did you say, Crixus?

Though I carefully leaned my head closer to his mouth, I couldn't understand what he was saying. He was calling out for something, or someone. I didn't know what.

We all watched, frozen in a fearful fascination at what was happening to him.

Something that looked like worms? Squirmed underneath the hard skin there, roaming around on the surface. They moved about underneath the silvery scar tissue, wandering here and there like they were looking for an exist.

All at once, their wandering motions change, gathering towards the center of Crixus’s shoulder, right where the bone would be, as a focal point.

Urgh!!

Shivering, the balls come together, twisting about until-

Pop!

Something green pokes its head out his skin, spiraling up and out while we all rear back in surprise. It didn’t last long, only growing about a human pinky-length long. Then it stopped, shivering once.

What. Is that???

A very cute, very small sprout. It grew out of the center of his shoulder-stump, a delicate center branch with two round leaves decorating the top of it. The leaves shimmered iridescent when I moved my head.

Crixus releases a soft sigh, his body releasing all its tension. A look over his body told me that asides from the new changes from the evolution, it was only the two sprouts that were different from before.

Whuff.

At the sounds right behind me, my body twists to see the source of the sound. It was the pups and Greenie, tilting their heads from side to side, as if they could see it too.

Greenie, you can see that right?

Still angling his head from side to side, he nods.

The leaves are shiny?

Because he nodded and continuously tilted his head at the same time, I could see Greenie getting dizzy, the pups plopping to their butts when they copied him.

Greenie roughly shakes his head a few times again, strands of dingy hair whipping into his face..

Shiny, Master.

What- is that?

Hopping around his giant horns to his other shoulder stump, there was another one of the same sprouts growing there too.

Appraisal!

{Unknown Sprout}

Well woop-de-doo. No helpful information from Appraisal here. I wasn’t surprised. I’d had low expectations from the beginning. Seeing as in this crazy new world, this might be one of the craziest things I’d seen so far.

Two small green sprouts, growing out of a heavily muscled Minotaur’s shoulders.

With tentative wing fingers, I tap on Crixus’ chest.

Hello?

You awake?

No response.

I really hope that was a good kind of plant, and not the kind that fed on you like the Siphon Bush.

He was still breathing, chest heaving in slow deep breaths.

Cocking my head, I decide I might as well wait for him to wake up.

We ate dinner in comparative silence. Or we tried to. The pups were always the first to finish their meals, followed by Greenie and Andvari. Andvari spent most of his time lowered inside the giant hole in our cave, while Greenie enjoyed playing with the pups.

Their current game was jumping over Crixus. Each time they successfully jumped, they added a stone, creating another rock pile on the now smoothly sleeping Minotaur.

When they did fumble the jump, the entire rock pile stacked atop Crixus’ body was knocked over, to begin again.

The fireplace crackled, popping when the juice from the meat hit the flames, while I watched my meat cook. It was one of the smaller Salamander meats today, roasting over the fire on sticks whole.

It didn’t make my meat taste any better. No matter how much I wished it did. I did it as a matter of course. To remind myself I’d been human, once, and most humans cooked their meat.

Crash!

I don’t bother turning around to look to the source of the sound. I knew it was Greenie or one of the pups who didn’t make the jump. Crixus’ chest was thicker now, and his large pectoral muscles moved like two twin peaks slowly heaving up and down.

Good entertainment for the young pups. And Greenie.

Going back to my thoughts while I sat by myself in front of the fire.

Hm. Did all humans always cook their meat? I mean, other than sushi. Yum. Sushi was an exception to that rule.

Well, I’m sure most humans cooked their salamander, to say the least.

Large smacks and chomps sound behind me while the other wolves in their own small groups enjoy their raw meat.

We’d given up on cutting up the food this time. With the Wolf King present, the food was evenly divided up and distributed according to the wolves’ needs. The sicker ones got more of the apparently (much) tastier innards while the healthier wolves got the red meat.

Heaving a great sigh, I keep myself from thinking about the amount of meat we went through in a day now.

It was the biggest issue we had now.

After tonight, the number of days we had to use the current method of hunting we had would become limited. It wasn’t every day we had an unlimited supply of fresh blood to use as bait.

Actually… we’d begun running out of blood from yesterday morning. As the bleeding from the sick wolves gradually stopped, we needed to find other ways to keep freshly soaked bloodied rags outside as bait.

After much agonized thinking, I’d finally broken to the next best solution.

Late last night, while everyone slept, Greenie and I snuck out back to the Ice Cavern with a large sling of crusty, bloody rags.

We’d discovered that rolling the pile of cloth in a batch of mud, then coating the whole ball with clay did a lot to mitigate the smell while we went out.

Then it had become a matter of making it to the Ice Cavern, blood-letting one of the dead wolves stored there, and letting the rags soak up in more blood.

As an extra precaution, we never brought the rags inside. While the morning sunlight began to light up the clearing, there was Greenie and I, working to set up our trap once again for the day.

There’d been an added note of anxiousness when we returned, me desperately hoping that no one would notice that the freshly soaked rags of blood didn’t come from any of them.

I’d also not bothered washing off all the poop, blood and dirt from the last three days just yet. With the wolves’ keen scenting skills, it was better to confuse them with the cacophony of scents on the both of us.

Sitting here by the fire, I had bits of poop and blood mixed together flaking off me like a high schooler with a bad case of dandruff.

And whoo-ey did Greenie and I smell. That was another reason I sat here alone by the fire too. The wolves with their sensitive noses would scrunch up their noses each time I passed by.

They were polite enough to move away when it got too horrible for them to bear, escaping to the cave entrance to huff breaths of fresh air.

I want to speak with you.

A firm feminine voice interrupts my thoughts.

Well, I don’t want to turn around. I quietly think back in my head.

From the voice, I’d already recognized who it was.

And the presence she exuded, standing tall behind me was enough.

Though she’d just recovered from something that should have killed her, she showed no sign of weakness. Her evolution must have healed her completely then.

A glance from the corner of my eye told me she’d given her portion of dinner to the pups to eat. They tore into the torn limb with gusto, small canines ripping off strands of muscle from the prey.

Boudicea? You’re not going to eat?

Fully turning my body to meet her gaze, I can’t help it..

I looked away.

The way she stared at me…it gave me the chills.

I want to speak with you. Outside.

Getting up from his prone position, the Wolf King stretches, then ambles towards us.

That is a good idea, mate! My fur feels itchy being in this dusty place for so long-

Boudicea sends the Wolf King a side-eyed look.

Privately.

That immediately shuts him up.

-Or I can stay and watch the pups.

Doing a U-turn back to his resting spot, we could both see him trying to hide his surprise at his mates’ rejection, his non-wagging tail and drooping ears betray him.

Oh no. Not this again.

My skin felt as if some bugs were having a dance party underneath my sealed in wings. I’d been able to get away from the subject last time!

But I still followed her as she slowly made her way out of the cave, limbs moving gracefully with her tail swishing behind her.

She must know I was a fake. That I did-

Shaking my head, I try not to think about it. She might be able to feel my emotions soon if I kept these thoughts circling in my head for too long.

Was she going to ask me about the poison? The dead wolves?

It was a dark night outside, with only the dim moonlight lighting the torn up clearing in front of our cave.

When we were far enough from the cave, right by the line of Siphon bushes, Boudicea turns to face me. Sitting tall on her haunches, she looks down as me, eyes steely like a judge deciding a criminal’s fate.

Wind whistles through the vines, making the leaves shake and pulse eerily in the moonlight. Though I shift my weight from one foot to another, I couldn’t get rid of the restless feeling in my heart.

Did she know?

….

Boudicea stared at me, golden eyes looming wide in the dark at me.

Silver fur ruffling in the wind was the only indication she was a living creature. By how still and solemn she sat in the dark, she looked like a guardian carving, waiting, watching.

Until she broke the burgeoning silence.

Where are they?

E-excuse me?

Heart palpitating wildly in my chest, I look back up at her. If worst comes to worst, I may have to fight..

Where. Are. They.

Where is what??

How much did she know!!?

Lowering her tone, growling deep in her throat, she moves, taking a step towards me.

My mate may have declared his loss to you, but I will not- cannot- accept you as my Alpha.

I thought- I thought we were closer now…

My body feels so very small in front of her. Shrinking inwardly upon myself, I dare not look her in the eye.

There were no lies in the words I spoke. Right now.

I thought…. I thought you liked me, even a little bit. You liked the name I picked for you, didn’t you?

She harrumphs at the statement, turning her snout away from me.

It is better to have a name. To live with a name is to be remembered.

I can't feel anything, though stumbling backwards, my butt hits the ground hard.

Shaaaaaaa.

Wind blows past the both of us, stronger now.

I cry for the ones that died with no name. Where are they?

I-I-

I want to throw up. She knew. She knew it all.

Her eyes opened wide and head held high, she quivers, golden gaze flashing in pain. In anger.

The others have fooled themselves. This scent! They think it is the blood of the sick you healed.

But I know.

No matter how much defecation you have, coating your furs-

I can still smell it.

Hair standing erect while she lowered her head and points her snout towards me, lips peeling back in a low growl.

The blood of my Pack underneath it all.