Lament of the Wolf

By Blaklite

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Prologue: Promise

"Matthew!"

If he hadn't been running before, Arthur was certainly running now. He had been scouring the forest for almost an hour now with naught but a lit torch and the faint light of the waxing moon whose beams barely shone through the tangle of bare branches overhead. It was a cold night, as December nights tended to be this far up north. But Arthur had paid no mind to these things, or the thin sheet of snow that clung to his boots in clumps. All that mattered was getting Matthew away from those beasts.

"Stay calm, Matthew, I'm coming!"

Matthew, who had been preoccupied with scratching behind Birch's ear, looked up upon hearing his new colonizer's voice. Fear ran through him, as it did for the owners of all the other sets of eyes fixed upon the European nation running towards them. Their collective growls, minus a still stunned Matthew, made the very air around them tremble.

Brandishing the torch as a weapon, Arthur swung it in front of himself to get the first line of wolves to dash away, allowing him to grab Matthew's wrist and pull the boy beside him protectively. The wolves simply stared at the pair, hair raised. They knew there was little they could do against the nation without resulting in heavy losses for the pack. Still, pack protected pack, and Matthew knew they wouldn't leave unless they knew he was absolutely safe.

But he didn't want them to leave.

"England, let go!"

Try as he might, Matthew couldn't get his elder to release him. That didn't mean he made it easier for the older man to drag him away.

"Let go? They'll kill you, Matthew!"

"No they won't. They're my brothers and sisters, and family doesn't hurt each other. Lâche-moi!"

Arthur had to wonder whether or not the boy had fallen and hit his head. Nothing else could explain such gibberish.

"Man-eating monsters are not family, Matthew. These are dangerous beasts. Now come along!"

But Matthew continued to struggle. Until a thought popped into his head.

"If I go with you, will you promise not to hurt them?"

"Matthew, they are killers. They might harm the towns-"

"Promets-moi! Promise you won't hunt them down!"

Arthur let his gaze slide briefly from the wolves to the boy. His face was absolutely serious, an odd look for a boy of nine. Though, of course, only his body looked to be nine years of age. The boy had been around for much longer, though by nation standards he was still quite young. Too young, apparently, if he was going to go gallivanting around in the wild at night without a care in the world for his safety. The frog hadn't done a very good job of breaking his spirit.

"Alright, I promise that the wolves will not be harmed. Now will you stop struggling?"

Matthew complied. Looking to the wolves, he simply nodded to them as England started to drag him away. The pack understood, and, silently, they slipped into the darkness of the forest once more, disappearing like ghosts. Matthew could but look on, desiring nothing but to able to run with them, to run far away from what his life had become.

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Lâche-moi – Let go (of me)

Promets-moi – Promise me