The full moon hangs over the forest in the city's outskirts, its pale light piercing through the thick canopy in scattered patches. In the midst of these woods, the sound of a shovel scooping up dirt resonates in the air.
Ralph pats the mound of dirt with the shovel's head, then stops to examine his handiwork. While he can use his paws to dig like most canids (Sapient or otherwise), his disdain for soiling fine clothes dissuades him from the idea (though the blood on his shirt contradicts that). If Wile E. was here, he would have done the job faster, with or without a shovel. Still, the wolf cannot help but feel a small sense of pride with how finely he buried the body.
With a dirty job done and over with, he turns and struts into the forest. As he treks on, he starts to doubt himself. Did he turn this way already? Wasn't the car over in that direction? Even with his homing instinct, his sense of direction in a massive, unknown woodland is more muddled. After a long period of aimless walking, he settles down beneath a tree to contemplate.
"Behind that villainous façade you put on is the same sensitive young pup I met in the meadow."
Ralph shakes the thought away. What business does Sam have, bringing up the past like that? And to Hell with that "façade" bullshit! This is who I am, whether you like it or not!
His hands, clenching the grass near him, start to loosen. He hugs his knees, folding his body into a fetal state. Who am I kidding? Sam's right: I'm still the same pup as I was then. The runt of the litter, the useless son, the failed excuse of a sheep thief. The same pup who couldn't find his way out.
Fifteen years ago, in another part of the country, a young Ralph wandered deep into the woods. He ran away from home after an argument with his father turned violent. He wrote a letter to his sister, Rudy—one of the very few people who he trusted—and then disappeared into the night. Looking back, he could have prepared himself before performing such a feat, though with his emotional state at the time, the thought never crossed his mind.
On and on he walked, crossing tree after tree until they all started blending together. Eventually he came across a moonlit clearing, and he dropped his exhausted self onto the grass. As he stared up at the full moon, his consciousness wavered and his vision blurred, until he gave up and closed his eyes. Then something woke him up.
"Hey there, sleepyhead. Are you lost?"
Ralph's eyes shot wide awake, and he found himself staring up at a mysterious, white-masked figure. The stranger looked like a wolf of some sort, but was too tall to be from any of the local packs. Shining above him, the moon's light accentuated the contours of his muscles, revealing a stout, powerful build. Ralph's heart started to race, though he couldn't figure out the reason. Astonishment? Fear? Love at first sight? Whatever the cause, he had to take several deep breaths to regain his composure.
As the stranger helped him to his feet, Ralph gave a brief summary of his predicament. "So can you help me, mister?"
The wolf pondered briefly. "That depends. Where do you want to go?"
"I… I don't know. Just anywhere but here." Tears started to form in his eyes, but he wiped them away. "Can you take me to the dog village? It's somewhere past the meadow, but I've never been there myself. My only friend lives there."
A smirk formed on the wolf's muzzle. "I can't say I know about the place, but I can still pave a path for ya." Then the wolf started to do something unusual.
Standing straight, he planted his feet wide, perpendicular to the direction he's staring. Then he bent his left arm back at shoulder height and pointed the index finger of the other straight at a row of trees. His eyes glowed a bright, luminescent blue as the air betwixt his fingertips shimmered, creating a faded silhouette of an arrow. The wolf pulled back the intangible arrow, then let go. In the blink of an eye, the trees within the arrow's line of sight were torn apart, bits of bark scattering as remnants of their branches fell to the ground. What remained was a messy, moonlit trail.
Ralph gasped in awe, having witnessed what could only be described as a miracle. "Mister, are you a guardian angel?"
The wolf chuckled. "If that's what you think, then I guess I am. C'mon, let's get out of here."
Holding onto the small wolf's hand, he escorted him down the pathway and out of the woods. Once they reached the end, they stepped out into the open, a hilly meadow stretched before them. "I created an opening," he said, ruffling Ralph's hair. "Now it's up to you to pave your own path."
The guardian angel started to take leave, but Ralph pulled his tail until he stopped. "Mister Angel," he spoke with a quiver in his voice, "will we ever see each other again?"
A pause, then: "I'd say pretty likely. The world seems huge at first, but once you've traveled enough, it becomes pretty small. Time does fly fast when you reach my age, so whether I'd be able to see you in your prime is still up in the air. Until then, keep looking forward and make your own destiny." The child lets go of his tail, and he walks back down the path, disappearing into the forest.
Ralph traveled across the meadow, and soon reached the village. There, he was taken in by the Canidae Church's priest, Father Springer. Springer, being a mix of hunting and herding dogs, was a friend to both the wolves and the sheepdogs, and a close affiliate of Rudy's via clerical connections. Needless to say, the young wolf was extremely grateful for his presence.
Recollecting that old memory in the current day, Ralph picks himself up and, following his guardian angel's advice, starts finding and making his own path. Trusty dagger in hand, he cuts marks on random trees he passes, creating distinct patterns which serve as landmarks whenever he takes a wrong turn. He feels more confident in his homing abilities, and gradually relies less on the markings as he reaches the outer edges of the forest.
Finally out of the woods, he reunites with his old clunker of a car, sighing with relief as he slumps onto the driver's seat. Briefly recalling the image of the mysterious wolf, he prays, Whoever or whatever you are, I cannot thank you enough.
October 30th, commonly known as Mischief Night, is a night when pranks and vandalism are common, and as such, much care is needed when doing the final preparations for the All Hallow's Fête. It's also the night when one of ACME Corp's most prestigious guests arrives onshore.
An ivory white limo parks on the southern wharf, and Lola steps out. She looks down at her watch. Eight 'o' clock sharp. She looks up at the shoreline, and her jaw drops. Sailing towards the pier is a cruise ship of gargantuan proportions, its bow decorated with a gilded curve and paintings of outspread wings. On the portside is the ship's name, written in English and Egyptian hieroglyphics: Mesektet. As the boat docks at the pier, Lola can catch a glimpse of the figure standing on the deck. An exotic wolf in a sharp white suit, he has a rotund build and dignified posture, embodying traits in common with the ship. Meanwhile, his shipmate, while similarly wolfish, is smaller and lankier in size and more fox-like in color.
As the two wolves disembark, Lola rushes over to greet them. "Welcome to Acme City, Mr. Wolfgang! Though, um, was it necessary to bring such a big ship?"
Unfettered, the larger wolf answers, "I considered bringing something smaller, but the bigger ships are faster. Any slower than twenty knots and I wouldn't be here 'til sometime next month." Examining the surrounding docks, he scoffs. "With berths this tight, it's a miracle any cargo ships could dock here."
"ACME's cargo ships compensate for the lack of width with length. Anyway, the limo's here to take you to your hotel. We can chat more on the way."
"Perfect!" Wolfgang's gaze shifts to the smaller wolf. "Duane, grab our bags. We'll be sleeping on land tonight."
After the luggage is stuffed into the trunk, the three enter the limo, settling down in the passenger's compartment. Lola pours drinks—red wine for Wolfgang, water for Duane and herself—and the atmosphere turns lively with chatter and cheers. Towards the end of the ride, however, the conversation takes a serious turn.
"I'll have you know this party ain't just for shits and giggles," Wolfgang says. "I've been wanting to set up a company branch in the US, so I set up this collaboration deal with ACME Corp, hoping to get my foot in the door. But there's still more that needs to get done, and I'm looking to collect my debt."
Lola lowers her glass. "Debt? I wasn't told about any debt. Bugs told me he had everything paid for."
"To think even his own girlfriend doesn't know," he mutters incredulously. He sets his glass aside and starts explaining. "Royalties aside, the rabbit's holding some treasures of mine hostage, and I don't just mean the rights to our Three Kingdoms designs. ACME's been robbing me blind for years, and I'm looking to settle the score."
"I understand, but…" The rabbit's brows furrow, her eyes staring intensely at the wolf. "I made a vow to protect my fiancé, no matter what happens to me."
Staring back, Wolfgang cracks a smile. "Since you're such a pretty thing, I'll go easy on you. However, I'll warn you just once: if you think of getting in my way…"
With a snap of his fingers, Lola's glass suddenly shatters in her hand. Brushing off the glass shards, she asks, "How did you do that?"
Before she can get an answer, the limo slows to a stop, and the wolves make their exit, leaving her to linger on the many questions running through her mind.
Mischief Night is the perfect time to be a hitman. Tasked with stopping gangsters and delinquents through increasingly violent means, Wolf & Coyote are at their busiest. One by one, ne'er-do-wells fall, whether by dagger or dynamite. Lighting up the hours of darkness in blood and mayhem, side by side with the love of his life… Ralph relishes it.
As the action winds down for the night, Ralph's heart is still on overdrive. Try as he might, he can't seem to calm down in the least bit. Right now, all that's on his mind is getting on top of that coyote and performing all manners of lewd acts with him, the rougher the better. Goddammit, why can't I keep myself in check?
"Are you okay, Ralph?" Wile asks him. "Your breath's shallow." He brushes two fingers against the wolf's forehead. "You're getting warm, too. Maybe you should stay home tomorrow."
Snapping out of his trance, Ralph lets out a bashful laugh. "I'll be fine. Just overexerted myself a bit. Let's go home and rest."
They return to the apartment, where, at Ralph's insistence, Wile climbs onto bed with him. As they lie side by side, the wolf tries to come up with a conversation starter, but his lustful thoughts keep resurfacing. This causes him to wonder, Does Wile think about this stuff at all? Going by what he knows of him from the past few months, he doesn't seem like the intimate type. Hell, he barely tolerates being touched. But tactile sensitivity doesn't affect one's ability to fantasize, right? Maybe he has some kinks of his own that he hasn't realized yet. Only one way to find out.
"Hey, Wile, have you ever had…" It hits him that the question could come across as inappropriate, creepy even. He really should have put more thought into this.
"Ever had what?" the coyote responds, his ears perked curiously.
"Ever… had a massage! Yeah, massage. We've been working really hard lately, so there must be a lot of tension in your shoulders, yeah?"
Rubbing his shoulder with one hand, Wile says, "You're not wrong, but… why this all of a sudden?"
"I… Well… I was thinking we should have more downtime together, y'know? Doesn't have to be a massage, but I want to try something more… intimate."
"Intimate? You mean like… cuddling?"
Ralph's eyes widen, and he bursts out laughing. How could Wile, of all people, think something so innocuous as that? Then again, perhaps that innocence is what he needs right now. "Yeah, something like that. Doesn't have to be much. Just lay your arm on me or something."
"I see…" Suddenly, Wile pulls Ralph close to him, wrapping one arm around his waist and pressing the wolf's head close to his chest. Ralph is initially dumbfounded by this, but he quickly finds comfort in the coyote's warm embrace. Though not all of his sensual desires can be fulfilled, for the moment, this alone is enough to satisfy him.
At the same time when Wolf & Coyote are causing chaos on the streets, Sylvester lurks about in one of the less damaged parts of the North Quarter. Clad in a fedora and trenchcoat, he sticks to the shadows, minimizing his presence to avoid unwanted attention. Further down the block is a broken streetlight, underneath which is a similarly-dressed figure. As he approaches, he can confirm the figure's identity to be the animal he's looking for. "Pleasant evening, isn't it, Duck?" he asks with a smirk.
The figure tips his hat up slightly, revealing a drake's beak. "I noticed you sent your attack dogs to hit the local scum. Thanks to them, I was able to slip by."
"They make for a good distraction when needed. Anyway, you got the goods?" He holds out a wad of cash, which Duck eagerly snatches.
"Yeah, I got 'em. Had to cross-reference ACME Corp's sources all the way to Québec. Not an easy task, but I found a gal who held onto it all this time." From the inside of his coat, he slips out a slim, paper-wrapped package and holds it in front of Sylvester. "Listen, I dunno where you're going with this, but this is one rabbit hole you're better off not jumping in. I've heard rumors on the streets about La Moufette, and none of them were good. So what'll it be?"
Sylvester lingers on the question. "Maybe it's a big risk, and I'll put everyone I know and love in danger. But not taking it could put them in even greater danger. I need to know. He needs to know." He swipes the package from Duck's hands and turns away. "Happy Halloween, Inspector," he says as he walks off.
AUTHOR'S NOTE
Hello again, readers! I know it's a bit fast, what with the time between the previous entry and now, but I was feeling pretty confident in what I wrote, so I decided to just drop the current draft to get it out. I might change some details down the line, but I got the basic pieces I wanted laid down, so for the time being, I'm happy with what is here.
While writing this, I intended it to be one lengthy chapter covering the events leading up to and during the Halloween party, but just as with chapters 9 and 10, I ended up cutting it off. Unlike the 9/10 split, however, the latter event hasn't been written yet. Another thing I changed was the chapter name—from "All Hallow's Fête" to "Devil's Night" to the current title, I adjusted it as I was working, deciding on the final name in an attempt to tie into one of the more visible elements in the work, as well as to make it sound a bit more uplifting.
On the subject of things changing over time, I feel like I should clear up something about the process. In contrast to my previous fanfic works, I had the basic premise and a handful of relevant plot points planned out well ahead of time. However, going in line with my usual pantsing style, various elements got added or altered based on whatever happened to jog my creative juices at the time. Without spoiling too much, some of these influences include: Beastars, Durarara!, Bungou Stray Dogs, the 2019 Harley Quinn cartoon, Helluva Boss, Loonatics Unleashed, Fate series, along with various soundtracks (most notably Repo! The Genetic Opera, Umineko no Naku Koro Ni (including the anime's ED song, aka OH DESIRE), Yuki Kajiura and Fate-related tunes, and Sheep, Dog, 'n' Wolf) and themes/motifs (Egyptian mythology, Lovecraftian things, noir style, and all things occult and magical (especially alchemy)). That doesn't cover all of them, but should give a bit of a hint of what to expect.
Now if you'll excuse me, I have a party to write about.
11/16/2021 UPDATE: Made a minor alteration to a sentence briefly describing Wyatt's companion, Duane. At the time, his design wasn't finalized and I wrote him with the assumption that he'll look more like Wyatt and Herman. However, after a bit of research and doodling, I decided to change him into something more distinct (if still a bit Wile E.-like in appearance, going by my sketches). For reference (in case I can't fit it into the narrative itself), he's based on an Ethiopian wolf.
