A heavy air of expectancy had settled over the Forest. Something was going on, but few, even those participating, knew the full details of it.
Remus was bare-chested and barefoot as he walked silently over the soft carpet of fallen pine needles. His lungs felt tight with apprehension and the myriad of thoughts spun confusingly around in his mind.
A small sigh of relief soon built up into something equally as terrifying as he thought of the purpose why he was here. Every eye turned to him in cold silence. He had to prove himself worthy to join their pack. This was his initiation and he didn't dare think of what he'd have to do to demonstrate his faith in the pack. He walked through the aisle of expressionless faces to where two waited for him at the far end. The smaller was a marbled patchwork of blue, black and white, her eyes a shade darker than her coat and flecked with deepest ocean blue. In her arms was held a large cloth-wrapped parcel, embraced with the utmost care. At her side was an intimidating sight. Hugely tall and pure white, the wolfs' face was grave and stern, unlike the convivial, warm features he was used to this creature possessing.
Unable to look at them for the fear in his heart, Remus looked around the clearing and realised he'd been here before. Graves and cairns dotted the area, and the two alpha wolves were standing at the heads of two graves. Well, it had been two graves the last time he'd been here. Now there was only one, the one behind the white wolf, the other had been dismantled by the blue because it had been her own and was not needed for she still walked the earth.
The white wolf beckoned Remus up towards him, and the werewolf felt pulled along by a force he did not understand. He stopped at the wolfs' unspoken command.
'Remus, we have embraced you as a brother into the pack. We have given you shelter and understanding of yourself. But we still have much to teach you.
'My father created the external Lupuscan pack so that we could better understand the wolf at the very heart of our nature and he did so after discovering a secret, a secret so great that we have not let it outside the pack. This place is our home and the wolves you see around you our family. We are willing to offer you a place in that family if you choose to accept it.'
Remus closed his eyes for a moment and remembered how his parents had treated him after he'd become a werewolf, how he'd hardly been a member of the family any more, hidden away and shunned. The ones who'd caused all his pain were offering him the chance to become one of them fully. His anger at his past subsided at the memory of all the closeness and love he'd been given by the wolves of the forest. How could he refuse?
'I accept.'
A smile tugged at the corners of Saiph's mouth, although he tried to hide it, 'Good, good. You have proved your heart strong, but at the core of every family, of every pack, is trust. Without trust we will always be alone, no matter how much we try to fool ourselves. I must trust you to not betray our family to those who would try to harm it. In turn you must trust me to lead you well and not to harm you. I must trust you to stand fast in the face of danger if I ask it of you. Do you trust me?'
The words were said with such strength that he knew he would always feel safe in the presence of this wolf, 'I trust you.'
The white wolfs face suddenly became far more grim, 'Then stand fast, Remus.'
The cloth swathed bundle in Elhaz's arms was unwrapped to reveal a powerful looking crossbow. From the ranks of the Lupuscans one came forward carrying a fearsome, metal-tipped bolt flighted in black feathers. With the utmost care Saiph took the bolt and loaded into the bow. He raised it up and sighted it straight at Remus's chest.
Remus swallowed hard as panic gripped him, but he did not move. The words turned into a mantra to keep him standing firm, 'I trust you, I trust you, I trust you.' He closed his eyes and kept the words on his lips, but even they faltered when he heard the bowstring twang. He screamed in pain as the bolt entered his flesh and knocked him off his feet.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The toddler sat in the garden. It was a fine summers evening and he was playing happily in the warm golden light. His parents owned a small rambling cottage at the edge of a wood and a garden that held endless fascination for a small boy. But all of them paled into insignificance compared to what lay just beyond the edge of the trees.
Glowing reddish gold in the evening light, something large watched him with mesmerising sky-blue eyes.
Odin didn't know why he found the child so intriguing. He hadn't found a child so ultimately absorbing since his own son had been around the same age. He'd hardly dared to let Frey out of his sight when he was so young, fearful if he blinked he might miss some action or gesture for the first time. He felt the same way about the child in front of him now, his sandy hair and curious blue eyes looking at him not with fear, but with wonder.
He cautiously approached the toddler, wagging his tail and trying to look as unthreatening as possible. To his utmost delight the child reached out to feel the fur on his flanks and face, his tiny hands weaving and tracing the lines of colour that patterned his body.
Odin never knew why he did what he did next, and he would curse it for the rest of his life. He led the child astray.
He wanted to show the boy the wonders of the forest, almost as if he felt a kindredness of spirit that could not be ignored. He bounded with delight when he saw the same fascination in the child's face as they watched the sunlight dapple and shimmer on a small streamlet, stared at the richness of colour in the summer leaves and follow a trail of ants back to their nest at the base of a sycamore. Only when the light began to fade did the wolf realise how long they had been away. A sudden pang of guilt racked him as he realised what he had done, the thought of what he would have felt if Frey had been missing for so long. Immediately resolving to take the boy back, Odin set off, only to check his pace once he realised how tired the toddler was, and how far away from his home they had wandered.
Darkness was almost complete once they got nearby. The boy was frightened by the dark and clung tight to Odin's thick neck fur. He could hear the youngster's parents calling out and began to say his goodbyes to the child when disaster struck. Tired and half-blinded by the falling blackness, the toddler stumbled against a raised rock, falling forwards. Odin's immediate reaction was to try and catch him with the only thing he could – his teeth.
The boy screamed as he felt the wolf's teeth upon his arm, and Odin let go of him quickly. He watched in absolute horror as a tiny trickle of blood began to run from a wound caused by his fangs. Looking up in panic he saw the full moon staring balefully down upon him through the verdant canopy. He'd passed this innocent his condition and his whole being revolted at the idea. He'd now condemned this child to a life of persecution and misunderstanding thanks to his own selfish needs. His tipped back his head and howled out his grief and sorrow, a perfect counterpart to the child's cries of pain and fear.
Finally deciding that self-pity was not going to help at that time and that the child was what he must think of now, he pulled himself together and launched into a comical display to remove the child's mind from his pain. He gambolled around like a spring lamb, making the boy chuckle, the panic forgotten, but Odin's heart was heavy with the thought of what must now be done. He could not take the boy back to his parents now, they would likely as not refuse to accept him as their own any more. Perhaps the fates had worked in mysterious ways and had given him another son. Perhaps.
These thoughts had made him careless about what else lay beyond the lines of trees. Until a few dancing lights brought him back to reality. Voices carried over the still air and the child began to pull him towards them, recognising them as his parents.
All was chaos then, and confusion as the wolf was spotted by the young boy's parents. The child tried to protect his friend, but there was screaming and shouting as the slight trail of blood down his left arm. From nowhere someone produced a crossbow and Odin screamed and collapsed as he felt the quarrel shatter through his shoulder. From nowhere something angry and white came flying through the air, his rage flying in spittle from his bared teeth. Frey had come.
The man with the crossbow fumbled to nock another bolt as Frey stood snarling and shrieking over his fallen father. From not far away came the howls of others and the boys parents grabbed their son and ran, unwilling to take on the whole pack, praying that the white wolf did not follow them.
Once they had fled out of sight, Frey bent to examine his wounded father, tears in his eyes. Odin's breathing was laboured and his blood leaking all over the forest. The sharp scent of silver assailed his nostrils and he howled out his grief, his fathers blood on his paws, knowing that there was no way out this time.
Skadi and Jeremy saw the flash of white through the trees and joined him in his mourning for the fallen father, brother and teacher, a hymn of sorrow so palpable it seemed that the whole forest wept for them.
