An adolescent wolf pup crouched by the red-brown clay pillar. The lofty ancient structure was situated in the centre of a leafy forest clearing bordered by oak trees. The pillar, created by the paws of many wolves of the past was dappled with shallow grooves that displayed its great age, slowly eroded by the many warm bodies brushing against it's once smooth surface.
He smirked displaying a row of sharp, pearl white teeth, reaching up above his head he turned his head round to look at his friends who snickered with elation, hiding behind the oak trees, ready to flee if they where caught.
He brought his dull but tough claws down, gouging into the red clay like an eagles talon's through butter.
A voice broke the silence, the young wolf snapped his head round his eyes wide as his heart beat rose with horror, his fear subsided as he realized the wolf who spoke was none other than the aged Bard; Greythorn,
"Be careful young'un, do not insult the ancestors of the pack"
The young wolf flicked his tail with arrogance he smirked at the older wolf
"Why do you say that, ancient one?"
The elder white wolf merely blinked at the young wolf's disrespect
"They may curse you" He said giving a silent grin and added:
"Like they did Neilix, your ancestor I believe"
The young wolf pricked his ears, his smirk falling from his face, unaware that he was being baited by the elder, the young wolf inquired further. "Myancestors?"
The older wolf nodded.
Keeping his haughty attitude he sat down pricking his ears with interest.
"Speak wolf, speak the voices of the great Lupis" called out a grey furred wolf. Murmurs of agreement rose form the other wolves who now gathered from the edges of the clearing, Greythorn-longbeard looked up, his wise, pale yellow eyes filmed over like a cloud over the nights stars, he began to speak. His voice like endless honey pouring from between his long yellow fangs, the words passed through his mind by silver paws, the paws of the stars, and so the story began…
Chapter 1
Neilix smiled at his father, placing a paw on his frail bony shoulder he dipped his head in a respectful tone and murmured, his voice inaudible to the warriors who lingered beside him "goodbye father".
Turning away he padded toward the pack boundary, the many lithe, swift warriors trailing behind him. He released a sigh and tried to hide his reluctance as he stepped into 'no mans land' a shiver scuttling up his spine he turned his head to see his younger brother. The pup rolled in the dusty dry earth.
Anger flashed across his face as he whispered half to himself "Someday, Dale, you will play in the soft jade fields of Bjarkloy. I promise you brother, I will return the freedom to our lands and the 'Forest-ones' will fall,"
His expression hardened to determination, his features stiff like the sheer rock face of a cliff baring the crushing waves of the oceans torrent.
Letting a howl escape his lips he darted forward, the warriors pursuing his every footstep he raced to freedom, and adulthood.
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Blood carpeted the once lush green countryside, Neilix, in a battle trance, lunged at wolves, in mercifully ending their lives, as his mind wandered elsewhere. He could not concentrate on the battle; he had to retain the essential state of mind; to feel no pity for the wolves that sunk to the ground at his warriors' paws. For if he did, he too would sink into the inky, crimson life liquid, that we call blood.
A call sounded echoing in his large ears. The opponents who still stood and those who where not too badly wounded began to retreat, fleeing back to the woods on sore paws.
The warriors around him did not bellow in victorious triumph, but immediately set their minds to the wounded, helping them away from the dead foes around them.
The medical wolves receiving the signal, notifying them that the battle was over, they raced into the battlefield and tended to them.
Neilix and some of the other warriors began to haul the corpses of their pack toward the river where the burials would be held later on. They allowed the rival wolves take away their dead so they could perform their own burial rituals.
Although the two where enemies; a code of respect was still valued between them.
A low hum cascaded outward from the gathering of wolves that mourned for the bodies of the wolves that had died in battle.
Neilix along with his highest-ranking beta, carried the bodies into the river, where they where swept downstream, to the spirit world where they would be swallowed by the cave of Aarethorn.