I write about werewolves. *sighs* It's quite embarrassing.
This is the re-write.
I've titled the novel, and now I might actually wtitet it.
I'm not a fan of this, so let's see what you all think.
Special Note: This is the result of a Word War. For those of you who know what Word Wars are, that should inform you of the quality of this piece, which was generated in 15 minutes, give or take a few.
Ah, but I digress. As I always do.
But onto the story...
Prologue
..Prologue
The summer night was hauntingly still. Nothing moved, not even the leaves covering the surrounding trees.
A slight breeze drifted by, rustling the grasses softly. It carried with it the scent of ash and smoke.
The scent of fire, I thought, as I hunched over the carcass of a deer. I licked my teeth casually, enjoying the sharp feel of my canine teeth against my tongue. The blood of the deer was still as warm as it was in life. I glanced up and saw pinpricks of flames in the distance.
Villagers? At this hour? They shouldn’t have been there. The villagers feared night; they wanted nothing more than to hide fearfully from it in their little huts, burning oil to create the illusion of day. It was odd to see a group of them in the dead of night.
Other scents co-mingled in the air – humans, making me drunk with scents of the farming fields and of alcohol, and something else -- the scent of my brother.
I rolled my eyes, which were a thorned rose-red . “Playing with humans again, Feran?” I stalked away from the deer. I’d already eaten all the parts of it that I deemed good. If Feran would rather play his silly games than hunt, he was out of luck. I hunted for myself and no one else. Subtle hints of color in my fur glinted underneath the light of the moon, a sleepy-eyed crescent among an audience of stars.
I raised my snout and sniffed the air experimentally. The ash burned my nose and I wheezed lightly. The smell was closer. I could her shouts now, too. Angry human voices, grating my sensitive ears.
A mournful howl split the illusion of quiet like an arrow. It was followed by a second, and another, all coursing through my ears, sad as a dirge.
I didn’t think. Even I had to admit that I was the slightest bit impulsive. Feran wouldn’t howl without reason. He would never try and draw attention to us and our kind. I took off through the forest, dodging trees and bushes. The rough bark of a root scrapped my paw as I ran, panting, toward the howls.
A silver blur in my peripheral vision dashed past, followed by flickering lights of the torches.
The scene astounded me. Yes, the slaughter of demons was a true fact, but never had I seen a group so intently chase one, not many. Humans were chasing my brother, but why? It doesn’t matter why, I decided, and rushed after the group.
The silver blur was closer now, and I could fully make out my brother’s features – he was slim, and built for speed. His long silver fur blew back as he ran, the shine of it contouring his muscles. But his speed seemed to be failing now. He was obviously tired, pink tongue lolling out the side of his mouth. Eyes like mine, red like a wound, darted back and forth. I didn’t think he saw me.
I joined the pack of men from behind, silently pursuing them. I thought it was to keep my distance from the humans as I ran, trying not to make myself known. If one of us fascinated the human men so, two would be their lucky day. I had to act.
I tensed my muscles , focusing my vision on the broad back of one man in particular. I leaped.
The man bellowed as I knocked him over from behind. He dropped his torch and the world was suddenly ablaze in a crackling frenzy as the glass ignited. This was the part I hated. I didn’t want to kill him, though I admit that I often had the urge to do so – kill without discrimination, let the bodies fall around me. But further investigation consisting of a nudge with my snout relieved me. He was unconscious. No killing spree for me today. I smiled, as best as an overgrown wolf could manage.
The other men stopped and seemed in a daze.
“A second--?” one asked, his voice shaking.
One of his comrades, and immensely strong-looking man quieted him.
Unfortunately, my grin seemed to have come off as a snarl.
The confused men turned, and I glanced with them.
Feran was standing in front of a huge tree. His luminescent fur shone preternaturally, his eyes seemed to reflect every star. Why hadn’t he left?
“Leave me, Bane!” he cried out in a language of grunts and snarls the humans could never hope to understand.
I shook my head no.
My brother’s outburst reversed the spell of disorientation. Several of the humans turned, while the rest stayed staring at me.
“We only need one,” another human said.
“Bane, run!” Feran shouted again.
It was then I realized that he was trying to save me. Feran, the kind, slender one. The innocent brother, the youngest.
And then, in plain common speech, Feran made his proposition so that even the humans could understand him. “Come and get me.”
Humans never could stand someone taunting them. They lunged at Feran, and I lunged after the humans. I would never have my brother killed.
The large man who had quieted the fearful one before blocked my way. He lifted me by the scruff of my neck easily and threw me against a tree.
My head banged helplessly against the truck, and I certain I hear a loud crack as the black in the corners of my eyes threatened to engulf the rest of my vision. As I lost conciseness, I heard Feran’s struggle. I had failed.
Ta-da! Thanks to all who reply.
