A/N- Hey, guys. I'm sorry I'm taking so long on CtM and everything else I wanted to do, but things have been...interesting. So, here's at least something for you. This is an original story; my own take on werewolves. I hope you like it.
Liari
Zivan rolled his shoulders, trying to ease the ache in them
Zivan rolled his shoulders, trying to ease the ache in them. The scent of earth was strong in the air on the dusty trail, with the tang of pine and sage barely relieving his sensitive nose. The sky was heavy with dark clouds, and the wind tasted of rain. He grinned down at the furry form at his feet. "Hey, Zavin, you were the one who wanted to go to the pools today, remember?"
Zav looked up at Ziv from where he was lounging on the ground and grinned back, brushing his thick hair back from his lupine face. He stood up and stretched, muscles rippling as he moved. "Yeah, I know, but do you really have to remind me? Ooh, I'd forgotten how steep that damn trail is. I still say it's easier in fur, though."
"Ha, shows how much you know. I could use hands." Ziv waggled his fingers in front of Zav's face and nearly got them bitten when Zav switched back to fur. "Hey! No fair!" Immediately there was a flurry of fur as Ziv changed, too.
White teeth snapped and fur flew as the twins made their way up to the hot pools. Trotting next to each other, the two wer were almost identical. Both muscular and sleek, their profiles and body structure were almost indistinguishable. Only their color and their eyes separated them. Zivan was pure, unadulterated black with fiery golden eyes, while Zavin was an ash-tipped steel grey, with intensely green eyes. The twins finally made it to the pools and jumped in eagerly. Shifting between fur and naked flesh, they swam in one of the lower pools, splashing and playing. Soon exhausted, they trudged to the top pools and sat down to soak in the hot water, surrounded by the smell of heat rising off the rocks.
"Mmmmmm, this feels good. See, now aren't you glad we came?" Zav grinned insolently at Ziv through the steam.
Ziv lazily flicked some water at his brother. "Yeah, I am, so you can just shut up now." He groaned and stretched, gazing indolently into space. His thoughts meandered, wandering strange paths as he sat there. Ziv closed his eyes, letting the formless thoughts wash over him. As they swept over him, they began to take a nebulous form, solidifying into an odd feeling. "Hey, Zav, do you feel that?" he asked uneasily.
Zav looked over at him curiously. "Feel what?"
Ziv nosed the air fretfully. "That weird feeling, as if something was about to happen..." His entire body was now tense, and if he had been in fur-form, he would have bristled.
Zavin twisted his head back and forth, trying to discern what was making his brother react like this. He couldn't really sense anything, and glanced back at Ziv, whining slightly in agitation. "Do you think we should go back?" he questioned anxiously.
The amber-eyed wer nodded, heaving himself out of the pool, breathing in the smell of the water on the rocks, his brother beside him, and the stale trace of visitors past. None of it was what was setting his teeth on edge. "We need to go. Now. Quickly, Zav, come on. Fur-form will be faster than man-flesh on the way down. Pace me, brother."
With that, a midnight streak was racing down the mountain, followed closely by a flash of storm cloud grey.
000
The ground was firm beneath his paws as he ran, the urgency in his mind beating a counter rhythm to the pounding of his heart. He could feel the storm building around them, and the scent of electricity in the air rasping in his lungs. Grey at the corner of his eye told him that Zav was beside him, and that was all that mattered other than getting back to the den as quickly as possible.
Zav sped at his brother's side, ears flat to his head as he tasted the fear coming from Ziv. He was starting to feel the same apprehension that Ziv did, and pushed himself harder, flanking his twin and matching strides. A multitude of thoughts flew in and out of his mind on wings of worry, fluttering in panic. What could have made Ziv so nervous? What was happening? Was the pack all right, were the pups safe? What could have his normally stoic brother so unsettled?
Ziv had only one thought on his mind: home. Something was wrong with home, and they had to get there now. His sleek black body was stretched out and running with no conscious effort on his part as his thoughts raced ahead of his body. Please, be all right, just be okay, let this feeling be wrong, please, by the Fangs of Visur, oh god the pack!
The two brothers neared the pack site as a peal of thunder rippled across the land, and both lifted muzzles to the air and howled, the sound ripped from their throats by the scent of blood and death in the air. They crested the edge of the small valley the pack had been camped out in, and nearly choked on the stench rising from it. Pack members were strewn across the ground like broken dolls, some in human form, some in fur form, all bloody and savaged. The twins staggered down, suffocating in death-scent. They changed, shrugging out of their fur forms, faces twisted with despair and loss as they shifted, their bodies remaking their bones, their flesh, in the image of men. Even with slightly duller noses, they were drowning in the smell of the dead, eyes streaming with bitter tears.
Ziv stumbled his way towards their family den, mindlessly seeking it out. Zav made his way through the camp behind his brother, almost blindly following, too stunned to think clearly. Their naked bodies were covered with grime and dirt, both from the wild run down the mountain and the tumble down into camp, but neither seemed to care, neither of the dirt or that their clothes were abandoned. All that was on Ziv's mind now was finding his mother and the twins.
Their mother had whelped twin girls about seven years past, as beautiful as dawn itself. The boys had immediately fallen in love, and were firmly wrapped around chubby little fingers even before the girls' eyes opened. Khavi and Khiva, two little chocolate brown fuzzballs identical but for the crescent of white on Khavi's chest and the star upon Khiva's brow. Later, when their eyes opened and cleared, it was discovered that while Khavi had the rich golden eyes of their mother, Khiva's had stayed pup-blue, merely darkening a bit to a sapphire shade. The boys doted on them both, so much so that their mother teased them that they loved the girls more than her, which they would always deny, laughing.
The girls were always smiling and laughing and playing, and it was as if they brought sunshine to the entire den. Khela would smile her quiet smile and the boys would rejoice, because she had been so grief-stricken when her mate Zaren had died so soon after she discovered her pregnancy. It was impossible not to love Khiva and Khavi; they loved everyone with so much joy that you had to love them back. Not that they didn't have their moments of strife. They were, after all, just like any other younglings; fights were inevitable, but were always resolved.
Ziv remembered…
Khiva looking at him out of those blue, blue eyes, as if she saw straight to his soul. Her laughing as he swung her around and around, her nose adorably scrunching as she screams in glee. Khavi yelling that it's her turn and jumping as she tries to grab Khiva's foot. Chuckling over their dispute over whose had more turns before up-ending them both by the ankles, which effectively ends the argument.
Khavi sneaking up on her twin while Khiva sails little leaf boats down rain-carved rivers to puddle oceans. Khavi yelling and jumping in the middle of everything, laughing as all the boats crash, ruined. Khiva weeping, distraught over the destruction, Khavi trying to hush her, telling her that they were just leaves, it's okay, she's sorry, she'll get more leaves for her sister, better leaves, and they'll make more boats together.
The girls' first attempt at baking. Ziv and Zav laughing at them as they try to shake the flour off, fleeing when they try to feed the boys the results. Everyone enjoying the second batch of cookies, made under the watchful eye of their mother.
Lost in the maze of memories, Ziv was right outside the entrance to the den before he realized it, when he tripped over something soft and giving. Looking down, all his mind could focus on was the pale crescent against rich, chocolate fur. He fell to his knees, silent, and gathered her to his chest, heedless of the blood. Khavi Khavi Khavi…His mind kept chanting her name over and over as he rocked her gently, pictures of her playing, laughing, smiling, dancing all flashing behind his eyes.
Khavi running to him, crying. Tears coursing down her chubby little cheeks as she wails to him that her markings aren't as pretty as Khiva's. Apparently, one of the other cubs was upset at her because she'd accidentally ruined his castle, and wished, loudly, that she could be as sweet as her sister with the pretty star. Brushing away her tears with a gentle finger, telling her that just because she didn't have a star didn't mean her markings weren't pretty. After all, if you looked at it just right, didn't it look like the rising crescent moon? The sweet tilt of her head gazing at it, then the even sweeter sound of her laughter and smacking kiss as she ran off again to play, happy once more.
A bright day, sun warm and lazy, and Khavi racing around the corner to greet him as if he'd been gone for years rather than hours. Her prancing around him and covering him in enthusiastic, if sloppy, kisses. Her dragging him off to look at her newest, half-finished project. A mess of mud and twigs that she proudly showed off, a rough statue of him, tail flagging high. The mud and twigs in her fur that made her look more like a statue than her creation, and cleaning her off enough that their mother would let her into the den.
Hugging her and Khiva tight as they whimper in fear of the storm outside, cuddling them close to comfort them. Coaxing a song out of them, the soft lullaby wrapping around all five of them as Zav and their mother join, making a warm blanket of love to get them through the storm.
Laughing and chasing her through the camp, nipping at her tail as she went careening through corners. Collapsing with her across his flank, chests heaving in exhaustion and happiness, tongue flicking out to rasp over one chocolate ear.
Khavi dancing under the moon, joy shining through her, the perfect embodiment of life itself. The crescent on her chest gleaming in the light of the crescent above, shifting as she shifted, one moment a wolf cub, the next a leaping girl.
All he could think now was that there would be no more adventures for his brave, brash little sister.
Zav nearly tumbled over Ziv where he knelt, and was about to curse his brother for a fool when he saw what Ziv was holding. Letting out an inarticulate cry Zav collapsed to the ground, hands held out to his baby sister lying so quiet in his brother's arms. Khavi never kept still if she could help it; it looked strange how still she was now. Zav felt his heart break as he saw the sister he knew as so full of life so empty of it. He croaked her name in a voice he couldn't recognize as his own, feeling that one word lodge in his throat, choking him. Ziv looked up at the sound, and tenderly handed Khavi to Zav, who immediately sobbed into her fur, holding her close.
Ziv moved stiffly into the den, and reeled back briefly as he saw his mother. He closed his eyes for a moment, grief overwhelming him as her familiar scent washed over him tainted with blood. He opened them again, and fixed them on her well-loved face. She had died in human form, her lovely golden eyes wide and defiant to the last. Crimson stained her temples and dripped down into her luxuriant dark hair as it lay tangled about her. She had gone down fighting, Ziv noted with aching pride. Mother… He gulped a sob, and reached out to touch her just one more time…
What he had taken as a mangled piece of bedding in the corner suddenly moved. The rustle caught his ear as he was stretching towards his mother, and he spun around, teeth bared and eyes wild. Just as he was about to attack, a well-known whimper halted him, and the tattered fur barreled towards him, changing in midair to a small, dark haired girl with a star upon her brow. Ziv caught her up, clasping her to him as she frantically clung to him, clutching at his back with both hands. She wailed against his chest, a wordless expression of fear and misery. He buried his face in her hair, desperately breathing in her warm, live scent. Ziv closed his eyes, and sent a quick prayer-thought to his mother. Clever dam, you saved at least one. You saved her, and we'll take care of her now since you can't. His heart felt close to bursting between the joy at finding Khiva alive and the pain of finding his mother and Khavi dead. Oh, Mama! If only you had been able to save all of you… He bent over the last female of his family and wept silently, strong shoulders bent wearily, unable to bear up under such a crushing weight. He felt that he should die under the pressure of it, defeated and overwhelmed.
Zav shuffled into the den feebly, still holding Khavi to him, and immediately saw their mother. A broken moan escaped him and he tottered to her side, laying Khavi down beside her, and closing both of their golden, now unseeing eyes. He turned to Ziv for comfort, but gave a sharp bark at the sight of his brother holding the sister he had assumed was dead with the rest. He threw himself towards them, enveloping them both in a frenzied embrace, taking in Khiva's scent as if it were the breath of life. He let the warm honey and sunshine smell wash over him, as he was sure Ziv was doing. The three of them huddled together, a living island amid a sea of death.
Ziv struggled to his feet, dismissing the voiced protests of both brother and sister. "No," he moaned, "We have to leave now; we can't stay here. Whoever did this knew where to find us. We have to go somewhere safe, somewhere that they don't know about."
Khiva just whimpered and hid her face against his chest, refusing to look out. Zav looked at her, and then up at Ziv, and nodded bleakly. "Right... What about up at the hot pools? It's hard enough to get to that most people don't know about it or don't care about it..."
Ziv nodded woodenly. He could only choke out a single word, "Yes." Zav bowed his head in acknowledgement and touched his brother briefly, before turning back to the matters before them.
The twins went to cover their mother and Khavi with an old sheet and fervent promises of returning to make a proper burial of it once they'd gotten Khiva safe. Khiva, who had yet to release him, hindered Ziv in helping. Zav understood, though, and pushed his brother gently out of the way so that he could tuck the blankets around their mother and sister. When he was done they both stared down at the shrouded bodies, unable to believe that these two would never leave this place. The stark reality was too much to take, too much to accept.
Slowly, Ziv let his head fall back, closed the golden eyes so like their mother's, and let loose the pain that had been building in him since he had first felt the pangs of dread. His howl rose low and throbbing, the ache unbearable in what had once been their home. Zav let his own eyes close, the green of them brimming with unspeakable emotion. He lifted his voice to his brother's, their howls twining together, strands of agony and grief, denial and hopelessness echoed back at them, cruel and cold. Gold and green eyes opened and looked at each other in desolate accord. It was time to go.
They gathered the food that had been stashed in the den and grabbed clothing to use later, when they were clean again. While collecting everything they noted that nothing was disturbed other than the entrance where their mother had fought. While this troubled them, they both agreed to wait until they were safe to discuss anything. They hurried out, burdened with food, provisions, clothes, and Khiva, just as the rain began to fall.
000
Ziv tucked Khiva more securely into the bundle of clothes and provisions he had slung over his back, her sweet face looking exhausted and heart-sore even in slumber. The golden eyed wer bent his head over her and kissed her forehead tenderly. His heart was hurting like never before, but he would not let himself acknowledge that right now. He had to be strong, for Khiva, for Zav. He was the oldest. Admitted, only by a few minutes, but still, as the oldest he had to be responsible. Ziv hung his head for a moment, tired and soul-weary. He ran a shaking hand through his jet-black hair, wishing that this were a dream, a nightmare that he would wake from, yet knowing better. He hefted the pack onto his back, taking care not to jar Khiva awake. She needed the rest, and he intended that she have it. His chest ached with emotions again in check, keeping them hidden away. He had been weak, but no longer. He allowed no more tears to fall as he walked, though he could feel them behind his mask, waiting for him to break. Ziv glanced over at his twin, and saw that Zav was doing enough crying for the both of them, the tears blinding him so that he stumbled over the terrain. Ziv crushed the slight hitch of his breath that threatened to turn into a sob, and lifted leaden feet to walk over to sustain his brother.
Zav sobbed his heartache, letting it flow freely as he floundered up the mountain path, falling twice and skinning his palms, until Ziv hooked one arm around his waist, supporting him. Zav leaned into his brother, taking the support gladly, knowing that his twin would be strong for both of them. The pack on his back seemed unnaturally heavy, as if it bore the burden of all those who had died in that valley. He took in the reassuring scent of his twin and his little sister, and thanked the Great Mother Moon that he still had at least a little family left. Zav knew that he alone would not have been strong enough to survive, that if whatever had taken his mother and sister had taken Ziv and Khiva as well, he would have laid down and died without another whimper. Even as it was, he felt lost. He mourned heavily as they made their way to safety, still too grief-ridden to start thinking of who or what had actually orchestrated and accomplished the massacre, unlike his brother.
Ziv was running through a list of enemies in his head that might have provocation to commit such a horrible act, bringing up and dismissing most under reason that their cause was not so great as to kill all, even cubs. He ran out of enemies to list, leaving him frustrated and confused, and with nothing left to distract him from his losses. Luckily, this coincided with reaching the hot springs, and the twin's favorite overnighting cave. They had spent many nights up here, both as cubs and adults. When they were cubs it had been their place to run away to, to hide and giggle about how their mother couldn't find them. Ziv had later coaxed out of his mother that she had known all the time where they were, and had checked up on them periodically while they were there. This memory brought a bittersweet smile to his lips, and made him recall why they would come here as adults. To think, to be, to escape from that of pack politics they disagreed with, to ruminate on what they were to do with their lives. They had had many late night talks here, he and Zav. They spoke of the future, their arguments, their musings. Zav had lately been professing an interest in one of the females, Arina, a silver point like himself. Ziv felt his sorrow slowly turning to rage and hatred as he thought on all that they had lost this day.
Zav noted the strange look on his brother's face as he stashed his pack in the back of their hideaway cave. He quietly took Khiva and the other pack from his twin when Ziv handed them to him, and he tucked Khiva and her temporary bed behind the other pack, following his brother when he paced out of the cave. His twin had a wild look in his eyes that Zav had never seen before, and it worried him greatly. He knew Ziv, and knew that while most only ever saw the calm, strong outer façade of his brother, there was always maelstrom of emotion that swirled beneath that surface. His brother felt things deeply, and always had. The fact that he never showed that he did merely made those emotions all the more potent, and made his brother all the more unpredictable. He watched warily as Ziv moved so restlessly near the mouth of the cave, wondering if he should interfere, if he should attempt to calm him. He wavered between wanting to comfort his brother and wanting his brother to comfort him, unsure how to break Ziv out of this strange mood he was in.
Ziv prowled the outside of the cave, the furious fire coursing through his blood driving him mad with the need to avenge his pack, his mother, his tiny sister. He stalked back and forth, eyes sparking with golden flame, heated and reckless. The overwhelming desire to savage the ones who had done this, to kill them in as painful a way as possible, was consuming him now. He knew this feeling, though it had only come upon him once before; this was the blood-rage, the killing edge. He also knew that if he did not control it, he would be devoured by it until he had completed the task of slaughtering the ones who had murdered his family, forsaking all else. He couldn't forsake his twin and sister, but how he wished he could give in to it! To lose himself in the red oblivion of rage until he tasted the heart's blood of his foes. But he didn't even know who he hunted yet. No matter. He would find them, and then he would drink their life from them in a cascade of crimson. He would-
"You will not."
Both Ziv and Zav started, neither having noticed the approach of another. They turned and stared at the one who had appeared out of the forest. It was a female of their kind, they knew, though her scent was strange and ancient, a breath of old earth and long-standing redwood. She smelled of moss and deep forest, and it was both soothing and unsettling at the same time. She radiated the feeling of elder power, slow and deep. Her hair was completely white, with no hint of the shade it was in her youth, or even if she had ever been young, and her body was stooped and small. Her face was lined and wrinkled, her skin the same red brown as the richest soil. But her eyes, when she turned them to Ziv, were the most striking thing about her. Utterly white, with no pupil, no iris, no anything. Pale orbs stared through him, making his hair rise on end. He knew instinctively that she was blind, but felt just as instinctively that she was as far from sightless as could possibly be. This was one who saw beyond the mortal veil. Her voice came again, low and dusky, filled with an unnamable strength, an unidentifiable force.
"You will not, Zivan of Visur's Pack. The path you seek is not the one your feet must follow. I charge you with your destiny, and deny you hatred." Her gaze softened slightly then, and she added, "Loss shapes us, pup. I know; trust me. You have another trail to course; leave your hatred behind, it will only burden you."
And with that she walked past them into the cave where Khiva slept.