A/N: Helloooo. I have returned. I just want to thank everyone for reviewing and all that; all that matters to me is that at least one person liked it, and just knowing that makes me incredibly happy. (WOOT!) And thank you for the constructive criticism guys; I realize I can get carried away with the syntax of the syllables rather than the actual meanings the words convey. lol I'll have to work on that so let me know how I'm doing! Anyways, anybody else that has suggestions or constructive criticism, please please please feel free to voice your opinions. That's the only way I'll ever improve lol Okay. Here are some words on a page. Enjoy. Or don't enjoy. Whatever makes you happiest.
This chapter may get…pretty gross.
Chapter Two:
In the chill of the storm something lingers around him.
Softly, at first, it hovers aimlessly about his toes - a light twitch of the ligaments. Piece by piece, as those toes pad against the path home, it dissipates upward - a minor chill creeping up each leg's malleable muscle. Then comes the more distinguishable weight in his stomach; Alois knows this one – recognizes it all too well as the exact slumping sensation that bore down on his insides when he discovered that his brother died…but even before the crippling compression of his chest can render him breathless, his mind stops.
"Mo…ther." A disjointed articulation, barely above the breeze. That animal…was headed towards my village.
He runs.
It got her. It got her. It got her.
Ice stings his skin but Alois is numb.
She's dead. She's dead. She's –
To the biting cold, to his torrid throat – to the sight and leaden stench of his mother lying twisted and torn atop the tepid threshold, suffocated by a serrated neck and a pool of blood that makes her look too much like his grandmother's deer dinner – to all of this, Alois is numb.
Lidded eyes linger on spilled organs, resting on her heart only a few feet away. A minute passes. And then another. And as shriek after shrill shriek erupt from the peasants in his village, while house after house is pillaged and shredded by that woolen wolf, as Alois is indifferently ripped away from his mother's corpse by a woodsman, as more and more blood pools at his feet, the boy commits the image of that heart to memory. It's the image of the heart that saw only his brother's face in his eyes. He wants to remember. He wants to remember that, even after all of her false and pathetic displays of affection, her heart was as cold and as black as he had originally thought it to be.
~3~
"Thank you for seeing him here,"
The woodsman's bloodied brow casts a miserable shadow over relieved yet tired eyes as he nods towards Alois' grandmother. "I am only grateful that the beast did not get to your village…" He spares a glance at the blonde boy, picking up on his blatant indifference but dismissing it as paralyzing fear. "Elsa…if you require assistance of any kind, don't hesitate to search for me." Another sideways glance falls upon the child before Alois is pulled gently through the doorframe.
She agrees, holding her grandson to her bosom as the woodsman prepares to return to his village and rescue more survivors. "Be careful" she calls to the man's back, her sandpaper speech losing speed and sincerity through the carnage-contaminated air. Naturally, as the forest engulfs the man's form, Elsa whips the child into the wall and – bang, the door clatters closed against its worn wooden hinges. "What have you done?"
He can feel the rancid rush of respiration heating his frozen features; accordingly, his numbness melts into a small snarl. "An animal attacked our village, I couldn't stop it."
"I knew you had seen the wolf when you opened your mouth about that path at dinner! I should have killed you while I had the chance." Scaly hands release the boy's arm from a tenacious clutch before the grandmother paces towards her dainty arrangement of butcher knives. "Now look what you've done, you lead it straight to the humans."
He allows his light brows to lift; bleached teeth scraping over a reddened lip as he subconsciously wonders if the old woman is serious. "Mom's dead." he mentions, as if he just told her the time.
She doesn't move.
"I said my mother -"
"I heard what you said" It takes only a split second for her to snap as she pivots away from the pot of scalding water and the knives to glare at Alois. "And now I'll have to let you stay here. The council won't keep me if they hear I left my grandson to the wolf."
The prestigious and elusive council of elders – every miniscule movement Elsa makes is in the name of the council. If it weren't for the unprecedented influence and undisputable power they hold over all villages in the area, Alois would have openly defied her years ago. But such is not the case.
"The beast has already passed through so make yourself useful and bring in some firewood."
Since such is not the case he bites back the bitter profanities lingering on his tongue. "Yes grandmother" he speaks, soft as curdled butter.
Outside, the air is still, remnants of the massacre dwindling down to a mere disquietude within the forest. The boy trudges into the thick trees, both certain and unsure of his destination. He leans down before a tree to collect its fallen branches, lifting and cradling the sharp sticks halfheartedly.
When he comes across the last branch, fragile fingers struggle to rip it from the icy clutches of the earth where it has frozen; the boy tugs at the tree limb once, twice, and on the third try, something blows against the top of his head.
Gradually he rises, keeping his hand wrapped around the sliver of wood as he brings his eyes up to meet a pileous snout, nostrils flaring and expelling gusts of fevered air at his head.
For a moment again, the boy's pupils dare to search for what he knows lies beyond that monstrous nose. As the glowing golden irises of the wolf burn into his, the child forgets his legs. He looks straight into the eyes of the thing that murdered his mother, fascinated and frightened beyond measure, unable to move until the animal itself taps its moist nose against the boy's. At this, Alois drops every stick as he falls, leaving them scattered about him as he scrambles backwards into the trunk of an exceptionally rough tree. "W-what do you want with me?" When the words leave his lips he instantly thinks himself a fool for trying to speak to a feral beast.
It moves its limbs one at a time until its front paws are on either side of the child's trembling legs. Naturally, as the wolf towers over him, it does not respond. Instead, to the boy's dismay, a heavy paw is placed upon his chest, pressing his little body deeper into the snow.
Before Alois can attempt to push it away and run, he notices, wedged carefully between the sharp claws, something familiar.
It's a tightly stitched cloth, burgundy in color with a barely noticeable L embroidered in its corner.
Blue eyes widen, pink lips part in terrified elation. "Luka…" His gaze shifts under confusion-bent eyebrows from the beady eyes to the cloth that once belonged to his brother.
At that utterance, the paw is lifted off his chest as it leaves the cloth upon Alois' equally red cloak, and the wolf stalks away into the deeper part of the forest.
"Wait!" His words are lost in the thick silence as he is left alone, perplexed and as excited as ever.
"Alois, it's time to come home" comes the distant call of his grandmother, the light voice straining to remain sweet with the knowledge that the council would be listening.
Even through the easy tone, the agitation between each of the woman's words is enough to quell the strangely titillating tingle in his heated cheeks. The proximity of those eyes was too much, he thinks.
Glancing again around him to make sure he truly is alone, Alois retrieves the firewood, tucking his brother's cloth securely within the folds of his hood before returning to his new home.
All the while, as Elsa stuffs him with the undercooked meat of a rabbit, – only so that the council won't reprimand her for starving a child – Alois thumbs the crocheted cloth beneath the table, devising a plan to call the wolf back to him.
A/N: Yes, yes, I know that chapter was RIDICULOUSLY short and it was updated ridiculously late….but guys, it's the first semester of college and I'm finding myself writing two words per day. But, now that I'm getting accustomed to the way things work in college, I'll most likely update more often. I got some really good advice from my English class and that advice was to write for yourself, and also, one of my favorite authors – the lovely, talented and gorgeous Little Storm said don't write for reviews, so I'm not going to do that. I'll just write the things I have planned, and if people happen to like it, I'll be happy. If not, feel free to let me know what I can improve on. Also, if you have any suggestions for this story, lemme kno. Mmmkaaay? Okay well thank you guys for reading this and I hope you continue to do so!~