Chapter 2- Betrayal
The chaotic event in the name of celebration ran on through the night, the drunken laughter rising and falling while off-key singing tore at the air. The girl still sat off on her solitary tree. If one watched the faces of the revelers whose eyes crossed the girl's face, one might note an odd revulsion, or amusement. The girl was considered cursed, for she had not spoken a single word her entire life, and at times seemed to draw no meaning from the sounds the villagers made. It was said to be done by the spirits of the woods as their revenge for the village's sacrilege, yet none mourned. What was there to be mourned in a tiny girl? So the townspeople cast her away from their society, left her alone, so they could nurture children like them. Her parents kept trying to get her to speak, hopeful that she would bring something to their family, for they noticed that her senses were as sharp as a whip. She always noticed what was around her. Always. Even as she waited for the eventual stillness she knew would overtake the revelers in an hour or so, she noticed the two monstrous emerald eyes in the distance, flickering in the firelight, growing brighter as the came closer.
A man danced around the bonfire, singing merry drunken songs with his friends. He was the best, the greatest, he just knew it! He might not have slaughtered any or the boars, or felled the most trees, but once he had another go… he'd be the best, he just knew it! Nothing could bring him down now, on this great night of victory… He smiled as he danced, taking in it all, the fire, the people, the logs, the moonlight, the alcohol giving the entire world a comfortable tipsy light. However, his eyes soon landed on his daughter, sitting alone by a tree. He had to take a moment before his drunken gaze fixed itself on her. What a disappointment she was. Continually taken care of by him and her mother, continually loved, continually supported, yet continually being useless. She would not speak, she would not pay attention, she would simply run around like a careless child… would she ever grow up? The man cared not about her age… he merely wanted a daughter he could actually be proud of. Not like her, who likely would not be able to even carry her own weight in the future. In a few years she'll only be a waste of space. The man soon looked away and joined back into the revelry, dancing with his tipsy wife, drinking sake with abandon, oblivious to the hating eyes surrounding them. That is, until the growling gave way to yowls, and the ominous eyes gave way to three massive wolves of white fur, firelight glittering off deadly bone claws.
The night stood still and silent as drunken man and wild beast faced off in the pale moonlight. In that brief moment, their mutual hatred blazed as bright as the bonfire. The three strongest men, those who had slain the boars, drew their swords. Their motions were drunken, yet steady, for they had practiced all their lives to be warriors to defend their home. First boars, now wolves would fall prey to the might of men, they thought as they smiled at the grand opportunity for glory. The three, bolstered by the rest of the partygoers, jeered at the wolves even as more normal wolves surrounded them, throwing sticks and stones and laughing even as the makeshift projectiles bounced off the wolves' thick fur. They took no heed as the three huge silver wolves made way, and an even taller, even grander wolf with blazing jade eyes and twin snow-white tails stalked forward towards the three proud warriors and raised her massive claws.
Moro laughed as the three swordsmen struck at her. It was a deep, growling laugh befitting her great age. Yet despite her many years, there was nothing slow or raged in her fluid strike, her claws shearing off the heads of the drunken warriors as if they were but bothersome branches in her path. Their corpses fell to the ground, blood pooling as the cheering for the warriors died out and silence once again took over the clearing. Even Moro fell quiet as the warriors died, for the spirits and gods of the wood knew to how to respect the dead. Through the silence, many emotions smoldered and blazed. Fear, anger, shock. Pride. Outrage. Hatred and bloodlust. As the rest of the men drew back and pulled out swords, Moro stayed behind as her sons and the wolves of the forest advanced on the bonfire. After all, she knew of their anger, and wanted them to let them have their fun. She laughed as the men were slaughtered, the savage joy of revenge blazing in her green eyes.
It was not long before silence once again fell upon the dying bonfire. The horrors of what remained shall not be spoken of.
Yet one lone man dodged and rolled through the wolves, closely followed by his small daughter who ran with him on light feet. It took the man a long time to notice his daughter at his heels, and even when he did, he didn't care. He just ran, and ran, pride shattered, only managing to understand through his drunken mind that he needed to escape. Escape. ESCAPE!
Moro turned to the running man and child, signaling to her blood-stained sons that they were her prey. She started running, the age old excitement of the hunt starting to warm her as her paws quietly brushed the ground. It was not long before she caught up to the two, yet before she could pounce, the man did something she did not quite expect, catching her off guard.
The man knew he could not escape as the giant twin-tailed wolf leaped out of the shadows. He grabbed his daughter's hand, pulling her up in his arms. He did what he thought he must to survive, drawing from his drunken memories of childhood stories and old legends…
"WAIT!" The man shouted. "STOP!"
Moro stopped, incredulous. Her prey had told her, a GOD, to stop? How interesting… She let herself stand still, curious, smiling down at the man. The man did not seem to be running away… she let him speak.
He spoke with the drawling voice of one hopelessly inebriated, stuttering in his words. "Forest god, I offer to you a sacrifice, in exchange for my life…"
With a great heave, drunken yet strong, the man flung his daughter towards the wolf, not caring to watch as he turned, filled with a fiery passion to survive at all costs. As he started to run off, his daughter hit the ground hard before Moro, head hitting the rocky ground hard and knocking her unconscious at Moro's feet. She considered her for a moment before raising her head once more.
Moro had no sympathy for the man, or any inclination to let him run free. She resolved to kill the girl later; she wasn't going anywhere. She leaped after the man, fangs bared, claws out, her yowl piercing the night-and she collided with a mass of red moving across her path. The two fell to the ground hard, each rolling fluidly into a standing posture towards each other as the man kept running, oblivious to what had occurred. Moro met the eyes of a fox, with six tails and distant blue eyes that seemed to gouge into Moro's very soul. Moro's emerald eyes widened as she started to growl, spitting at the fox who simply raised his head and made an obsequious bowing gesture towards her.
"Ah, O Wolf Queen, I sincerely apologize for blocking your path… 'twas an accident, I had no idea you were before me until I could not stop…" The fox's eyes changed color to a sharp green not unlike Moro's own as he gave her a razor-sharp smile.
"Liar," Moro spat at him. "What business do YOU have protecting my prey?" She was furious, her blazing rage once taken out on the warriors now redirected at the smiling fox.
"Yes, of course it was a lie, but a rather pretty one… reminds me of quaint folk tales of lovers crossing each other by twilight…?" The fox's eyes twinkled as he needled Moro, moving to block her as she tried to step around him.
"Burn, you insolent bastard, and be quiet… Never open your damn mouth in front of me… Let me devour the man, my prey! You know what he is, don't you? Are you not blind?" Moro's voice dripped with fury and bloodlust as she shook in anger.
The fox's voice, however, was placid and tranquil, like a windless night. "You think I'm blind, O Wolf Queen? Even while you yourself are so blinded by rage? I can see it in you… so well…" The fox was next to Moro, close enough to lick her paw as his eyes became a deep, unfathomable blue. Those deep blue eyes started to glow slightly, and his tails and fur burst into blue foxfire. He spoke to Moro, fangs glistening in the moonlight as he crooned in her ear.
"Let him run, let him squeal, let him be shattered and live the rest of his life in fear of the wild, in fear of us, dear Wolf Queen… Let him teach the humans their place" The fox licked Moro's fur affectionately, dancing gracefully away from her slashing claws as he continued speaking.
"So bloodthirsty, dear Moro… have you considered the child? She has no place, she is not special… She'd be no fun to hunt, but rather easy to rip apart, I imagine… In fact, I might do it myself, if you pass her up…" The fox's eyes turned to dark amber, regarding the small girl with a gentle smile that spelled violent death. However, Moro stepped forward.
"The girl is mine. She was given to me, not to you, fox."
The fox's eyes were betraying irritation more and more, and his fur began to bristle as Moro continued speaking, forcing out her words.
"I will take her to the Deer God. She… She has done nothing to us. The Deer God will decide the girl's fate" She snarled at the fox as she moved to curl around the girl a few meters behind where she stood.
"What lies, dear Wolf Queen. You only seek to cross me. Why, why, why? I am not your enemy. The people of the town are, can't you see?" His eyes were a fiery blue, angry and proud. "Forget the girl. Let me have her."
Moro simply turned away, merely growling, "Be gone, Fox".
The fox could not take it anymore. He screamed, burning in blue foxfire, as his voice tore at the air.
"I have a NAME, Wolf Queen! I have a NAME, Moro!"
As the name of the wolf goddess echoed through the midnight glade, Moro moved and slashed. The foxfire burned out as the fox's flank split, blood drenching fiery fur as the fox screamed. By the time the fox was lucid enough to think through the sheer pain, Moro and the girl were long gone, leaving behind only a few blood-soaked paw prints leading to the sanctuary of the Deer God.
The fox laughed and delighted in the pain, for he knew two things that burned brighter and stronger than any wound. First, his wonderful blessing, and second, his love for the savage queen of the wolves.