Young Writers Society

Night had fallen over the forest. All was quiet save for the wind that whistled through the pine branches. Nothing seemed to move in the chilled darkness. The trees were cold and desolate—an uninviting shelter. The pine and fir trees withheld the secrets of an eternity of death and evil, knowing nothing but such. A howl suddenly rose in ascendance, reaching full pitch then leveling out. It spoke of rage and betrayal and the urge to kill. As abruptly as it started, the howl cut off.

A clearing lay in heavy shadow. Patches of snow stood out awkwardly, white splashes against black shadow. Several wolves milled around the tree line, their golden eyes flashing warily as they watched a scene unfold before them. Three wolves stood in the center of the clearing. Two were facing each other with lips drawn back and hackles bristling. The third stood a little ways off, watching the other two while she pawed the ground nervously.

“Traitor!” one of the snarling wolves accused. Her amber eyes blazed against their background of black facial fur. “You’ve done nothing but betray your whole life!”

“I did what I thought was right!” the second snarling wolf—a timber wolf—shot back. A low growl rippled from her throat.

“Betraying your family was right?” the first wolf demanded, her voice shrill with disbelief. “I trusted you, Vespasia, and you turned on me!”

“Azreal, I—“

The second wolf never got to finish her sentence. The black wolf sprang, her outstretched forepaws slamming into the timber wolf’s flank. Vespasia, the timber wolf, collapsed to the ground and rolled, scrambling to get out of her attacker’s range. The black wolf lunged after her, jaws parted and ready to do serious damage. Vespasia closed her eyes, awaiting the pain that would surely come. When she felt nothing, Vespasia opened her eyes.

The third wolf, silent and watchful before, was pinning the black wolf down. She snarled, obviously struggling to hold the furious wolf down. “Run, Vespasia!” the third wolf panted.

“Asmodae, what are you doing?” the black wolf shrieked, thrashing in an attempt to free herself.

“She’s our sister, Azreal!” the third wolf, Asmodae, hissed through clenched teeth. “I can’t believe you were so ready to kill her!”

“She betrayed us!” Azreal spat back.

Asmodae glared at Azreal a moment longer then turned to Vespasia, her gaze softening as she said, “Go, Vespasia. Your place is no longer here.”

“Forgive me, sisters, but I cannot say that I regret what I’ve done,” Vespasia murmured, lowering her gaze.

“Get out of here, Vespasia!” Azreal snarled from where she was still pinned under Asmodae. “You are not my sister and I will never again claim you as such.”

Asmodae blinked a silent forgiveness that only she and Vespasia would know of. With a final glance at the two wolves she had come to call sisters, Vespasia heaved herself to her paws and bounded for the trees. One of the wolves stepped out from where they had been concealed in the shadows, blocking Vespasia’s path. He ignored Azreal’s warning snarl even when the other wolves shrank back further into the trees.

“Demos,” Vespasia rumbled, her voice cracking as she uttered the male wolf’s name.

“Perhaps we shall meet in better times,” Demos whispered just loud enough for Vespasia to hear.

“Perhaps we shall, Demos. Perhaps we shall,” Vespasia replied in a hushed tone.

Demos stepped aside, his head bowed in misery. Vespasia brushed passed him with a whimper. Once in the cover of the trees, she broke into a run, desperate to put as much distance as possible between Azreal and herself. When Asmodae was sure Vespasia had enough of a head start, she stepped off of Azreal. Azreal leapt to her paws with a furious cry and rounded on Asmodae.

“You let her get away!” she accused. “Is everyone a traitor like her?”

“Don’t you dare call me a traitor, Azreal!” Asmodae snarled.

“Forget it!” Azreal snapped. “Come on. We need to report this to Lithos.”

Asmodae snorted and stalked passed Azreal, pointedly kicking a clot of dirt at her sister. Azreal growled lowly and followed after Asmodae, struggling and almost failing to control her rage. Asmodae knew that their alpha, Lithos, would be furious and undoubtedly send a hunting party after the fleeing Vespasia to finish what Azreal had started.

Vespasia’s breath fogged in front of her muzzle in a cloud of vapor as she ran. Her breathing came in ragged pants, each inhale sending a wave of pain through her side where Azreal had undoubtedly bruised her ribs. She dared not stop though. Vespasia’s ears were flicked back to catch any sounds of pursuit. It wouldn’t surprise her if Azreal had decided to resume her quest to kill Vespasia. Vespasia weaved her way around pine trees, leaping over fallen logs in her haste.

To her relief, a small creek came into view. Ignoring the cold, Vespasia leapt into the waters and followed its course downstream. Water splashed her fur and soaked her legs and chest. It was bitterly cold, but Vespasia pushed herself on. The creek mouth where it met the river came into sight. Vespasia jumped out of the creek and followed the river along the sandy bank. Her fur quivered anxiously. She paused at the river’s edge, staring out across the black expanse of rushing water.

The water rippled around several hunchbacked shapes, recognizable as boulders that spanned across the river. Vespasia launched herself onto the first rock, then the next, and the next, until she was safely on the far bank. She looked back to make sure no one was following her, then plunged into the undergrowth of the oak forest.

***

A large group of wolves prowled through the brush, their eyes flickering around warily. At the head was a dark grey male, his muzzle silver with age. A white wolf followed close behind him. The grey male held up his tail, indicating to the patrol that they were to stop. The white wolf stalked up beside the grey male so that he could whisper to him.

“What’s the plan?” the white wolf asked, his voice hushed and strained.

“You take half the patrol through the woods there as backup”—the grey male angled his ears towards a dense patch of undergrowth—“and I’ll take the other half into the clearing to confront her.”

The white wolf nodded and slid away into the trees, motioning for five or six wolves to follow him. The grey male watched as they disappeared from view, then led the remaining wolves into the open. The scent of a female wolf was strong. She was nearby.

“We know you’re here!” the grey male called into the trees. “Show yourself!”

“Honestly, Buck. It seems I overestimated your vigilance. I thought for sure you would have been here days ago.”

The grey male whirled around to face where the voice had come from. He could make out the dark silhouette of a wolf crouching on a tree stump, but her details were distorted by the shadows cast by the nearby maple tree.

“Who are you?” the aged male demanded. He took up a defensive stance, his wolves doing the same.

“Don’t you remember me?” The strange wolf leapt off the stump and padded into stronger sunlight, her head tilted.

“Vespasia?” the grey wolf asked uncertainly, his eyes narrowing as he studied the young female.

“Hello, Buck,” Vespasia said quietly. “And hello, Trout,” she added in a louder voice, her words directed towards the woods close by.

The white wolf slunk out of the undergrowth with his patrol of wolves close behind. The white wolf’s eyes were trained on the wolf Buck had referred to as Vespasia. “Is it really you, Vesp?” the white wolf asked.

“Yes, Trout, it’s really me,” Vespasia replied with a chuckle.

“What are you doing here? I thought you joined Satanic Delusions?” Buck looked puzzled as he questioned Vespasia.

“Oh, they threw me out.” Vespasia lowered her head, a sly gleam worming its way into her eyes. “It seems they don’t take kindly to those who betray them.”

“I sense a good story,” Buck rumbled thoughtfully.

“There isn’t much to tell.” Vespasia shrugged. “When Azreal found out what I had done, she attacked me while we were visiting the Dark Bloods. Thankfully, Asmodae held her off while I escaped.”

“What made you come here?” Trout asked.

“I was just stopping by to say my goodbyes. I plan on moving on, far away from all of the packs around here. I figured that with Northern Winds, Protectors, and Blazing Diversions surrounding me, there is no way Lithos and his mob of outlaws can get to me.” Vespasia waited for the protests that were sure to follow.

Buck was quiet for a minute, the turned to the patrol of wolves. “Go home,” he ordered them. Reluctantly, they all turned and padded away into the trees leaving Buck and Trout alone with Vespasia. “I don’t want you to go,” Buck began once the other wolves were out of earshot. “You are the closest thing I have to family and I don’t want to lose you.”

“I need a change of scenery,” Vespasia argued.

“You could stay here,” Buck offered. “The river bends in towards Northern Winds. You could stretch your other border into our territory.”

“We just want to keep you safe,” Trout chimed in.

“No, I couldn’t.” Vespasia shook her head. “You need every stretch of territory you can get for the Protectors,” she added, naming Buck’s overpopulated pack.

“If giving up a small section of my territory will keep you out of trouble then so be it.” Buck nodded once, showing that his decision was final.

“And you’re sure I won’t be intruding…?” Vespasia said hesitantly.

“You’re not,” Trout insisted.

“Well… Okay. I’ll stay. But if I up and leave one day, don’t be surprised,” Vespasia warned.

“Take some time to get settled in. I’ll be sure to inform Northern Winds that you will be here so that they don’t attack you,” Buck told Vespasia. “I’ll return in a few days to see how you are faring.”

“Thank you, Buck,” Vespasia said with a gracious dip of her head.

“Bye, Vesp!” Trout called before bounding away, heading back for the Protectors’ den.

Buck turned and ambled slowly towards the tree line. Just before disappearing into the brush, he turned his head to look back at Vespasia. “You have some explaining to do.” With that, Buck turned back around and loped away into the trees, his bulky grey form disappearing from view.