Foreword: Hello! For a bit of a change of pace, I decided to try writing a more lighthearted story. It's an AU and the setting is a bit different than the usual Worm story but I hope you'll enjoy it.
I plan to do more work on Rain of Blood or A Prison of My Own Design next as I work myself back up into the proper mindset to write Paranoia.
Symbiosis
1.1
[Agitation. Aggression.]
The tranquil grip of sleep loosened as the first minor warning bells flared at the edge of my perception. With a slight groan, I rolled onto my right side and curled my knees up to my chest, doing my best to tuck myself further into the thick warm fur flanking me. There was a low rumble and my warm furry wall shifted slightly before a puff of hot air blew across my left ear. With another groan, I buried my face further into the fur.
"Ten more minutes, Anne." [Delay] I mumbled, unwilling to give up my warm bed just yet. With a quick chuff, my warm, lupine body pillow shifted around me again before I felt her response. [Affection. Amusement.] Giving a throaty hum in reply, I settled myself down and tried to drift back off to sleep.
It was not long before a flurry of signals once again forced their way through the haze of sleep to assault my peace. [Aggression. Intent.][Interest.][Excitement][Concern.]
[Distress.]
"Seriously?" I moaned aloud, rolling onto my back as I covered my eyes with a hand; massaging them in an attempt to clear away the sleep. "Do they have to start now? Can't wait another fifteen or twenty minutes?" I let my arm fall away, plopping down into the soft furs laid out around me and blinked my eyes open. As the bleariness faded, the cavern roof came into focus: every crack and crevice easily visible to me even in the near total darkness. I rolled my head to the left and my eyes sought out the cavern entrance a dozen or so feet away. With a quick survey of the ambient light, I estimated that the sun was only just coming up and breathed out an aggrieved sigh.
[Aggression. Warning.][Distress. Submission.][Warning. Impatience.][Distress. Submission. Fear.][Impatience. Aggression. Attack.][Fear. Panic.]
I shot to my feet, irritation replaced by anger as I stalked my way outside. Beneath my tough calloused soles, the mattress of soft furs quickly transitioned into rough stone and soon I was ducking beneath the lip of our den's entrance. Almost immediately I paused and adjusted my estimation of the time. It was raining again, the third day in a row. The overcast sky and the covering of light misty rain lowered the ambient light level, making it feel earlier than it really was.
As the cold water beaded on my skin, a shiver ran down my back and I reflexively crossed my arms, rubbing my shoulders in an attempt to stave off the spring morning chill. Quickly, I padded out along the large boulder that shielded the entrance of my little cove from the elements and stopped at the edge, peering down into the wooded valley that spread out before me. It didn't take long to spot the source of my morning disturbance.
Where the sharp slope of the valley began to level out but before the tree line thickened, there was a large open clearing. Gathered there in anticipation, were nearly a dozen wolves, a few coyote, and a spattering of scavengers and opportunistic feeders like foxes, raccoon, and crows lurking around the periphery. In spite of the mounting tension and aggression, they were gathered together so closely for one important reason.
Today was the day I went with the pack to hunt.
By now, my patterns were becoming well learned, and in anticipation for what was certain to be a plentiful feast, primal instincts and aggressive hormones were flooding the gathered predators, stirring the melting pot into a violent froth. Needless to say, it didn't take much to spark squabbles and confrontations.
A loud chuff to my right alerted me of Anne's emergence from our den and she sat back on her haunches at my side. I shifted closer to her, turning slightly so I could wrap my arms around her neck and press my body into the thick grey fur of her side. The opportunity to steal a little body heat and shield myself from the wind was easy to capitalize on with how big she'd gotten: nearly a half foot taller than me even as she sat back on her hind legs. By my estimate, she must have more than doubled in size since the day we found each other and connected as kindred outcasts more than five years ago. I wouldn't be surprised if before long I had to crane my neck back to look her in the eyes.
[Distress. Fear.] [Excitement.] [Interest.] [Concern.]
With a sigh, I balled my hands in Anne's fur. [Preparation.] [Agreement.] Sensing my intentions, she got to her feet and I fluidly slid my way onto her back. With a familiarity born of practice and repetition, I settled into place and pressed my knees into her flanks for grip.
"Let's go." I said softly, patting her neck for emphasis. Anne shot off, swiftly and gracefully picking a path down the steep slope. [Elation.] A smile broke out across my face. There was something about riding on Anne's back that I'd fallen in love with from the very first time I'd tried it. Even now, it still thrilled me with a profound sense of excitement on each and every trip, something that Anne was well aware of. [Amusement.]
As we quickly neared the gathering, Anne slowed and I schooled my features into an impassive mask. The day would progress more smoothly if I clamped down on excessive behavior now, rather than let it run its course. Infighting meant a possibility of injury and injury could cripple a predator's ability to hunt effectively. That was unacceptable.
[Disapproval.]
All of the wolves on the side of the gathering closest to my arrival flinched. Ears pressed back flat against heads and tails tucked between legs as they jerked around, eyes seeking me out. When they caught sight of my approach, they sunk lower to the ground before slinking off to the side, opening a wide lane for Anne and me to enter the clearing. Overhead, in the trees surrounding the group, every bird fell silent.
Now that I was amongst the chaotic gathering, it was easy to pick out the source of the confrontation that had woken me. A young male wolf I'd named Kyle, was acting very aggressively towards the group of gathered coyote. At barely a year old, his personality was in the later stages of development, seeming to lean towards more dominant behavior. He'd likely do well leading his own pack once he'd had another year or so of growth behind him, but here in the heart of my territory, he needed to learn restraint. Pre-hunt aggressiveness or not, violence against other-species members of my pack would not be tolerated.
With a quick shift of my weight, I slid off Anne's back, feet squelching into the waterlogged soil as my momentum carried me forwards into an angry stomp. By now, my arrival and foul mood were apparent to the group, most of them doing their best to avoid standing out or meeting my eyes. Kyle however, focused as he was with menacing the innocent coyote, continued to miss the obvious social cues of his pack mates around him. When I finally reached his side I brought my right foot up, planted it just behind his right foreleg on his ribcage, and heaved with a good portion of my strength.
Kyle let out a startled yelp as he was thrown off his feet, crashing onto his side in the thick mud of the forest floor. He struggled to quickly right himself and whipped his head around to face his unexpected attacker, only to find me glaring down on him. Instantly, his ears slapped down to lay flat against his head and he sank back down into the mud, shrinking away from me. I took an aggressive step forwards before dropping down to one knee and wrapping my right hand around his muzzle. As he tried to submissively avert his gaze I bared my teeth, pulled his head back up, and forced him to meet my eyes.
"Enough." [Cessation.]I growled, making it abundantly clear that I wasn't in the mood for any nonsense. [Acknowledgement. Submission.] He whined, shifting his weight to role partially onto his side as he tried his best to demonstrate his submission to me. I held my posture anyway, looming over him as an imposing figure of authority, emphasizing to both him and the rest of the gathered pack just how serious I was about my 'no nonsense before a hunt' policy. In response, he leaned up to lick at my mouth and face.
[Submission. Preparation.]
"Yes I know, you're sorry." I muttered as Kyle's rough tongue thoroughly slobbered all over my face. With an accepting sigh I playfully pushed him off, causing the four foot long adolescent wolf to fully roll over in the mud and get back to his feet. He was just about to shake out his coat when I once again wrapped my hand around his muzzle and met his eyes. "Don't let it happen again." [Warning.]
He dutifully averted his gaze, [Acknowledgment.] and that was the end of that.
Standing back up to my full height, I looked down at my filthy legs and sighed. I definitely needed a good rinse before getting ready. Planting my hands on my hips, I turned and addressed my gathered pack.
"I need a bit to get ready. If anyone else causes a problem before I get back they won't be coming on the hunt. Got that?" [Preparation.] In response, Anne raised her muzzle to the sky and let out a tremendous resonating howl. It was so loud that I could feel it vibrating in my chest. When she'd finally finished, there were a few moments of silence before the responding chorus began to sound.
All of the gathered wolves reared back and howled for the whole forest to hear. It was a call of acknowledgment and unity, of excitement and anticipation, and of warning and hunger. Amongst the larger wolves, the coyote joined in as well: letting out little barking howls in a show of togetherness. Even the crows overhead broke out into a cacophony of caws and chattering.
Despite my initial annoyance, a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold ran down my spine and a huge smile came to my face. This was my pack, most of the gathered animals having been born and raised here in my territory under my watchful eye. We were a tight nit community, a family unit of different species and individuals relying on one another in our fight to survive.
When I had first come here I'd been a scared and weak little girl, injured and left to fend for herself in a hostile and unforgiving environment. But, that had changed. I'd gotten powers and found Anne, the widowed wolf of an alpha pair and together we'd managed to eke out a meager living on the land. Then, more had come: the hungry members of the dysfunctional pack that Anne had once been a part of. Together, we managed to overcome the trials of the forest, growing bigger, faster, and stronger by the day. Before long we'd become strong enough to maintain a territory of respectable size and the other animals of the forest took note of our success.
My powers made the impossible possible, and animals that would have never been able to work together in harmony had become part of the group, the gap in communication bridged by my ability. I reveled in the feel of it: the community of the pack, the authority of my leadership and command. It made my heart pound and my blood sing in my veins.
Throwing my head back I joined the chorus, howling enthusiastically with the rest of the group. Partway through, I broke off into ecstatic laughter and made my way back over to Anne's side. Seeing my approach, she lowered her body in preparation. I gave her an affectionate rub on the top of her snout before once again jumping up onto her back. I leaned forwards, taking hold of the fur around her neck as I called out over the chaos that the chorus had dissolved into.
"Let's stop by the river to wash up before going to get ready." [Destination.] [Agreement.] Rising back to her full height, Anne chuffed out a response before turning towards the tree line. Any animals between us and the trees quickly stepped aside to make room and with a few bounding strides, Anne quickly gained momentum as we shot off into the forest.
Unfortunately, I didn't have long to enjoy the thrill of the ride as Anne swiftly and skillfully plotted a course through the trees and underbrush. The spot that she had selected for our den all those years ago was actually quite close to the river that ran through the valley. There was no plumbing in the forest so having a source of fresh water nearby was a definite necessity.
Before long, the gentle slope of the valley finished evening out and we emerged from the tree line alongside the riverbed.
Normally, this portion of the river was rocky and the water shallow enough to wade across. I'd actually paid careful attention to instruct the beaver families that lived in my territory not to build their dams too close: I didn't want the running water to back up into a murky pond here. Today however, all of the recent rain we'd gotten had caused the normally peaceful river to swell up into a roaring beast.
The water level had probably risen half a foot since yesterday and if the rain didn't let up, it would only continue to rise. At this point the rocky riverbed was completely covered by the frothy rapids of the raging current. It hadn't been this bad since the big snow melt at the end of winter and I found myself worrying for the beavers downstream.
When I'd first started my life in the forest, I'd tried to only allow myself to get attached to predators: animals at the top of the food chain. Out here everyone had to eat and the law of nature meant that some animals would inevitably end up as food. That proved easier said than done as more and more critters took up residence in the comfort of my territory and fell into the group dynamic.
Eventually, as I became more accustomed to life in the wild, I let myself relax on that emotional defense mechanism. I'd quickly learned that life was not a certain thing and that death was just another natural part of the cycle. Out here everything was connected, and death was often a necessary ingredient to support new or continuing life. It was something to be respected even if it was still sad at times.
It also helped that animals living in my territory seemed to do much better than those in the surrounding area. Those that accepted my watchful protection always thrived without question, growing bigger, heartier, and smarter than others of their kind. Anne was a shining example of it and as we slowed to a stop alongside the river, I spotted another of my favorite local residents.
"Paps!" As I once again slid off of Anne's back, I let my momentum carry me into a jog back towards the tree line a few dozen feet to our left. Standing there busily picking the buds off of a tree sapling was an absolute monster of a porcupine: my favorite ill tempered spiky guy, Paps.
Easily five or six feet long and three or four across, Paps was a slow moving giant covered head to toe in quills that varied in size from inches to feet. He'd started off as a cute little guy but being one of the first animals willing to cohabitate with Anne and me, both he and his quills had grown by leaps and bounds every year.
As though sensing my regard, Paps partially turned towards me and cocked his head to the side as though he were trying to pose. Then, he demonstrated that his quills were not only much longer but also much more mobile by fanning them out all along his back. Some went so far as to rotate from lying flat against him to standing straight up. With the spines all splayed apart, I noticed the reason for his showboating and cooed appreciatively.
"Oh! Grabbed some more spiders from the Web Nest again today did'ja?" An intricate pattern of sticky, wispy threads was woven between all of Paps quills. Slowing to a stop at his side, I poked a finger into the webs and plucked one of them. [Summons.] In response, a small black spider with a red hourglass on its back scurried out to alight on my finger. Pulling my arm back out, it made its way up onto the back of my hand and stopped for inspection. It was a biter, one of the smaller types of spiders in the Web Nest responsible for moving quickly throughout the web network to kill and wrap caught prey for the rest of the Nest.
Sometime in the last year or two, Paps had decided to expand his diet from just plant material to include bugs, grubs, and worms, but it was only just recently that he had managed to figure out a neat trick for collecting more food at once. With the spiders building their webs amongst his quills, he could fan them out like a big thick net and collect flying insects while he worked on eating other things. Then, when he was feeling lazy he could somehow get the spiders to bring out his ready wrapped snacks to eat at his leisure. It was a really neat system, but as I watched the rain collect on and run down his silken net, I couldn't help but wonder whether or not he'd have much luck today.
"Looks good Paps," [Appreciation.] [Agreement.] I announced, holding my hand out for the biter to scurry back into his quills. "But I dunno how much luck you're gonna have with the cold and all this rain." [Concern.] [Dismissal.] With a whine and a few clicks, Paps brushed off my worries and turned back to the sapling he was snacking on. Chuckling to myself, I turned back towards the river where Anne was waiting for me a dozen feet or so away. "If you say so. Anyway, hunt's on today so I'll be gone for awhile. Keep an eye on things while I'm out, alright?" [Preparation.] [Acknowledgment.]
Leaving Paps to his morning snack, I passed Anne to hop onto one of the larger boulders not yet submerged by the rising water level. Ignoring the chill of the slick rock, I sat down so I could dangle my legs off into the rushing water. [Concern.] Anne chuffed behind me and I rolled my eyes.
"Worrywart." I replied before holding one of my arms out behind me. Gently, she took my wrist in her mouth and braced her front paws against the boulder. With the fears of my hovering protector adequately relieved, I braced my left foot on the rock and stuck my right down into the water. The new obstacle to the raging current was enough to send up a huge spout of water, guided by my dangling leg right into my face. Sputtering, I shifted my position slightly to redirect the flow and wiped at my face.
[Amusement.] Anne snorted behind me. "Shut it, you." I replied with a grin as I reached down with my free hand to rub at my leg, sluicing the mud off of it. After a few good wipes I switched to the other leg. I wasn't looking to get squeaky clean, after all, I'd be getting plenty dirty on the hunt today; I just didn't want to have a bunch of mud between my skin and my leathers once I'd gotten dressed.
Once my legs were clean, I shimmied back onto the rock a bit and Anne released my wrist. Getting my knees beneath me, I flipped over from sitting on my butt to laying on my stomach. I held up one of my legs and waited for Anne to dutifully grab my ankle in her mouth before scooting forwards closer to the water again. Reaching down with both hands, I cupped some water and brought it to my mouth before taking a big slurp. It was very gritty today, the fault of the roaring current stirring up dirt from the bottom and off the banks, but still tasted fine.
Once I drank my fill, I scooted a bit further forwards and reached behind myself to gather up my long hair. Flinging it forwards, I let my curls dangle into the water and worked at giving them a good rinse, combing my fingers through any knots I found in the process. My hair was getting to the length that the hassle of wrestling with it was beginning to outweigh my fondness for keeping it long. I'd probably end up cutting it again once it grew past my waist but for now I'd hold onto my vanity.
Cleaning done, I gathered my hair up in one hand as I lifted myself up with the other. Anne helped pull me up and soon I was back on my feet trying to squeeze some of the extra moisture out of my curls. Finished with helping me, Anne stepped up to the water's edge herself and leaned down to take a good long drink. While she was doing that, I threw my hair back over my shoulder and stepped up to her side. There were muddy smears on her flanks from where my legs had been pressing into her and I did my best to wipe them down with the water already running through her coat from the rain. I'd have to give her a proper combing later, but for now I just wanted to get the worst of it.
Once we were both finished with our morning preparations, I hopped back up onto Anne's back and she started for the tree line at a more sedate pace, careful not to fling up anymore mud.
"Alright, let's head to camp and get ready. If I take too long everybody'll just get more riled up." [Destination.] [Agreement.] Anne gave a quick chuff of confirmation before speeding up to head back into the tree line at a brisk jog. "Bye Paps!" I called out as we passed by the slowly scuffling porcupine and received an acknowledging flick of the tail in response.
Camp was my work and storage area: the place I kept my various handmade tools, experimented with different ways to treat leather and fur, made bowls and pots out of clay, and just generally tried my hand at carving and crafting the various things I wanted and needed. Some things were pretty easy to do, like chipping down the edge of a stone to make a simple knife or carving an antler into a comb. Other things took a lot of trial and error, like figuring out the best way to treat and work animal hides and making a good, simple bow.
The hides and leather actually turned out to be the easier of the two. After just over a year of playing with different materials and methods I'd managed to more or less get the hang of it. Making a decent bow turned out to be an entirely different sort of beast. Probably because I could experiment with a bunch of different animal hides and figure out whether or not I was working them correctly in a relatively short period of time.
With bows though, the wood had to be dried first and it had to be dried properly: a process that could take up to a year if you weren't using a fire. If you do it wrong, the wood warps and splits, a problem I was intimately familiar with at this point. There was also the problem of what type of wood was the best to use. Between all those variables it took a lot of time and a lot of experimenting to make any progress. Fortunately, just last year I'd found a new tree sapling I'd never seen before and it seemed to be exactly what I was looking for. I'd already made one successful test bow with it so now it was just a matter of perfecting my crafting process to make a really good one and I'd be set. I already had a few lengths of it drying and had high hopes that I'd be able to start practicing with the finished product by the end of spring, provided the rain didn't keep up indefinitely.
It wasn't long before we'd made the short trip back from the river to the steeper slope of the valley wall. Here, the tree line thinned, soil transitioning to larger rocks and boulders too hostile to support larger plant life, and my camp came into view.
I'd set up shop, as it were, right on the edge of the steeper section of terrain in a spot beneath a large triangular overhanging boulder. There was still a gentle slope to the ground here, angling away from the valley side back towards the river which meant water didn't gather in my work area. I'd also built a low wall of rocks packed with mud around it to help keep out running water, but the mud tended to wash out when there was a bunch of rain.
Set up throughout the space were a bunch of wood, bark, and mud lean-tos and canopies. I'd built them piecemeal over the years as ad hoc work areas and storage and they worked well enough at keeping out the elements. In the area beneath the overhanging boulder I had a few areas set aside for work that needed a fire: things like cooking, baking clay, and smoking leather and wood. The rest of the sheltered space had a bunch of animal furs layered out over it like my bed back at the den and served as a good spot for a break or a midday nap.
Anne sauntered into my work space, easily stepping over the low wall and taking me over to the area beneath the boulder. Once there, I slid off her back, careful not to land right back in the mud, and made my way over to the pile of furs. Stooping down, I quickly dug through the pile, grabbing one from lower down that wasn't damp from the rain misting up and gave myself a quick wipe down. Not that it would help much with the rain still coming down, but it made me feel better about slipping into currently dry clothing.
That done, I dropped the fur back onto the pile and stepped further back into the little cove. Laid out on some of the larger rocks off the ground was a collection of leather garments. I'd made all of them myself over the years, and the quality varied pretty drastically from one to the next due to both my still developing skill and the wear and tear of repeated use. The material I'd used in the stitching and weaving had varied a bit as well. Some pieces were held together by strips of leather, while others relied on cord made from twisted together sinew.
My most recent advancement in clothing technology relied on using thread and cord I collected from the Web Nest. It had the advantage of being just as strong if not stronger than the leather strips and didn't become stretchy and fall apart when wet like the sinew. The web weavers at the Nest could also apparently make different kinds of thread: some stretchy, some firm and unyielding, some sticky and self adhesive. It was extremely convenient and I was happy to say that the Nest was still thriving and expanding, even if I did feel a bit bad for the chipmunks and squirrels who got caught.
The first piece of clothing I grabbed were a pair of pants: the best I'd made so far. The leather was soft and supple while remaining durable, and I had managed to do a good enough job smoking it that it didn't get stiff and need to be reworked after getting wet. The seams were held together by a mixture of spider web cord and thread, and leather strips along the outside of the legs. Sliding them on, I cinched up the leather strip around the waist and moved on to grab the next piece.
It was nothing fancy, just a small vest sort of thing. It didn't look particularly nice but it was made out of the softest piece of leather I'd managed to produce so far and was more a comfort item than anything else.
Finally, I grabbed a long billowing piece that was made from several hides all fixed together. It looked sort of like a cross between a short dress and a smock and I had to stretch the collar a bit to fit it over my head. This meant it sat close around the base of my neck, which helped to keep some of the water out, but billowed out loosely around my arms and body making it easy to move in.
I did a quick adjustment of my clothing before gathering up my hair in my hands and started on a quick and easy braid. Turning, I found Anne sitting in the shelter of the boulder a few feet away and met her eyes.
"Hey Anne, can you grab me my bag?" [Request.] "It should be on the workbench." With a quick snuff, she stood and turned back out into the rain, padding over to one of the little shelters I'd made. Bending down, she stuck her head in for a moment before backing out with my leather satchel in her mouth.
It was a simple little thing, just two medium pieces of leather sewn together to form a pouch with a flap I could fold over the top. I'd ran another long strip of leather through a few slits I'd made in the back and I normally just threw it over my shoulder when I was out working in the forest.
As Anne padded back up to me, I finished the braid and gave her a gracious rub, taking the bag with one hand while the other kept my hair together. Setting it down on my mat of furs, I knelt down and flipped it open. First, I pulled out my knives from on top. There were three big ones: each as long as my hand, made of sharpened bone with handles wrapped in leather strips, and stored in simple sheaths of hard, folded leather. Before I'd managed to carve these I'd used thin pieces of broken stone tied to thicker sticks for my cutting needs. Setting the knives aside, next I pulled out my water skin, made from the bladder of a large stag, and put it with the knives. I'd have to fill it up before I left. Finally, I dug through the assortment of knickknacks still in the bag until I found what I was looking for.
It was a ring of silk, made from the stretchy web the web weavers could produce, and was a simple convenience for tying my hair up. Before the Web Nest had developed, I'd used different cords of sinew, leather, and woven dried grass to tame my hair, but nothing quite beat the convenience of a simple elastic.
With the spider elastic found, I secured my braid and scooped up my knives. The sheathes all had leather cord at the top and bottom and two of them I tied securely to the outside of each of my thighs. The last one I just threw back into the bag as my spare. That done, I closed the bag's flap and slung it over my shoulder, letting it hang at the back of my waist. Scooping up the water skin, I stepped over to the edge of my rest area where several crude clay pots sat collecting water as it drizzled off the rocks overhead. Undoing the cord that sealed it shut, I dunked my homemade canteen into the pot and waited for it to fill up. That done, I sealed it back up and tied it to the outside of the bag.
All of my preparations done, I left the shelter of the rock overhang and jogged over to the same crude shelter Anne had retrieved my bag from, my main workshop. Ducking in, I quickly scooped a few things off of the little workbench made from logs lashed together, and threw them in my bag: several bundles of spider silk rope, a crude axe made from a hefty stone lashed to a sturdy piece of wood, and a little leather bag of stone knives just in case. Finally, I turned and grabbed my spear from where it stood in a corner of the little shack.
It was a hefty thing, made of a shaft of hard and dense wood and topped with a jagged triangle of polished metal lashed to the pole with the best web weaver silk. It was the one metal tool I had, brought to me by one of the larger more inquisitive crows.
It honestly made me a little uneasy: a constant reminder of the twisted wreck I'd fled from into a dark and lonesome forest over five years ago, but I'd forced myself past that. Now I looked at it as a reminder, a sort of homage to my parents. Straying too far from my territory, too close to the road still made me nervous, but at least this way I could imagine always having a piece of something that connected us close by.
Putting thoughts of the past aside, I ducked out of my workshop back into the rain. Anne was dutifully waiting for me, just as she'd done every day since we'd met, and crouched low as I broke into a sprint, throwing myself onto her back. [Fervor.] The excitement of the coming hunt was finally hitting me now as well, and no doubt sensing the building tension, Anne broke into a sprint into the forest, back towards the clearing where the rest of my pack had gathered.
I hunkered down on her back, closing my eyes and taking a deep centering breath. Then, as I blew the breath out, I took hold of the spark where my power resided in my mind and pushed. It exploded out from me in all directions and my mindscape burst to life with bursts of light cascading farther and farther away from me. Each point of light was a living creature, and each one my power touched spread its effects farther and faster. I knew from experience that if I let it continue on my power could reach far further than Anne was able to travel in a day, but right now I didn't need to look that far.
It didn't take me long to find my target.
At the fringes of the area I'd claimed as my official territory was a dense group of bigger sparks. It was the main deer herd led by one of my early residents, the Stag King. He led the herd in a circuitous path, taking them continuously around the fringes of my territory to areas where the vegetation would be refreshed.
Centering myself on the main herd, I inspected the groupings of sparks around them. The Stag King was one of mine and his knowledge and strength was vital to the survival of the main herd. For that reason, my pack never targeted the main herd, and any strays who did would likely find themselves fleeing from eight hundred pounds of antler tipped fury. Fortunately, not all of the deer were content to stay a part of the main herd collective. Smaller groups inevitably splintered off as growing males yearned for a taste of independence and a personal herd of their own.
It was these groups that fed my pack and as I located one of them, my eyes snapped open.
Placing two fingers in my mouth, I blew out a long and shrill whistle as loud as I could make it. [Gather.] As Anne tore through the forest, she passed the area of the clearing and slowed her pace. She was far stronger and faster than the rest of the pack and running full out, they'd never be able to keep up. Shortly after, the sounds of the first barks and snarls reached my ears as the pack caught up with us.
Closing my eyes, I could sense that most of the wolves were with us. A few would be staying at the group den to keep an eye on the young pups, but we'd bring enough food back for them. Two of the larger coyote were also joining up, finally big enough to keep up with the pace of their larger cousins. Opening my eyes and blinking away water, I half turned on Anne's back to call back.
"You young first timers, stay with your big brothers and sisters. When they slow down, you slow down. We do this my way, we do this smart!" [Preparation.] [AGREEMENT.] "Herd we're after is to the northwest further up river. Do not get to close to the water!" [Destination.] [AGREEMENT.] "Alright, here we go!"
With an adrenaline fueled battle cry drowned out by the air rushing past my ears, I settled myself lower on Anne's back as a feral grin split my face.
The pack would eat well today.