Tales Of Olden Times

*Erani* · 07-16-2013, 12:27 AM

Erani

?Mother! Mother! May I go listen to the Elders story?? The white five month old she-pup asked the white Redwood Lead Healer. Deep crystalline blue eyes turned to look at the deeper blue gaze of the child. ?I don?t see why not, little one. Listen well. Their stories have meanings and lessons. Keep their stories in your heart.? The Healer?s voice, like a sigh of water over stone carried on the wind, was warm, full of love and a faint chuckle, wrapped around the little white female. The pup nodded with a smile, turned and scampered away, out of the redwood trunk that made the den of the Healers, and across the clearing to where the eldest wolves in the pack lay waiting for the youngsters and younger warriors to arrive.

Bear, a russet male with his face showing his age; he had gone so grey in his face that the once russet fur was white, specked through with russet flecks. His right eye was an interesting mixture of amethyst and deep sapphire, while the left was a light spring leaf green. He was large, but it was his strength as a young warrior that had won him his name. Iroila, scarred, one eye milky white from blindness, the other a light violet. She had gotten her scars in a battle with Blackmoon wolves as a two year old. Her first fight. Arro, the best hunter in the pack, and the teacher of future hunters. He was an expert in Forest Craft, able to pass through without a sound, knowing all the tricks of the wind and nature. Arro still hunted and taught the younger generations his Craft.

The small white she-pup wriggled in between her black brother and grey sister, snuggling into her siblings as her large deep blue eyes took in the elders, trying to guess what kind of story would be told tonight. Off to the edge, the white Alpha male and female, Amoren and Adania, watched and listened as well. The pale blue eyes of the Alpha male landed on the little white female, watching her for a moment before returning to the Elders. A hush went through the gathered knot of wolves as Bear, his great head held high, sat up, thick russet fur rolling over muscles that were still hard and strong. The stories were about to begin.

Bear?s mismatched gaze swept over the gathered wolves, lighting on pups and adults, until the hush grew electrical with anticipation. Then he gave a great rumbling clearing of his throat, and spoke to them, bass thunder soothing across their ears.

?Tonight, I shall tell you of how Redwood Pack began. Of how one pack became two enemies.? He sat tall, eyes sweeping the faces that looked up at him, before he began, bass voice rolling like thunder.

?Before Redwood pack began, it was much larger. It?s name was different, then. Back then, Redwood pack was called Whitemoon Pack, for the time it was formed, when the wolves who began Whitemoon Pack came together as mates. It was said that the moon was full, high in the sky, and that it was as white as snow that night. The two founders of the family, Thorn and Ailsa, met a year before, as yearlings. They became close friends at that innocent age, and as the year rolled on, that friendship grew to love, and at the end of that year, they gave themselves to one another, and decided to leave their packs, and begin one their own. The next night, they found their new territory, this territory, and under the white glow of the moon, they claimed this territory as their own.

?Together, Thorn and Ailsa began bringing wolves to their new pack. Good wolves, strong and full of honor. Whitemoon pack grew from two to twenty in a year, and in their steady leadership, Whitemoon Pack became the strongest pack in the land. Their strength came from the unity of love and companionship. Every wolf had each others? back, and in a battle, they were nigh impossible to beat. For five good years, the pack ruled strong and well. And in the sixth year, Ailsa was heavy with their first litter. At the end of her pregnancy, there were born three children. Only two survived. They named them Fenrin, and Amoren. Fenrin was black as obsidian stone, marked like his father?s sire with blood red paws and a cross of blood upon his brow. His eyes were the color of the blood moon. Amoren was pale as his mother, with her eyes of light blue. They both grew strong, but from the beginning, Fenrin?s darkness was not just pelt deep.? A somber expression embraced the russet elder?s white face.

Arro sat straight and tall, lean timber body a sharp contrast to Bear?s great size and muscle. His black forepaws were dark against the mossy ground, his black chest fur rippling under a light breeze. Silver gaze pierced the listeners, sweeping over the small white female and her siblings, before rising to the sky, where the evening was beginning. Stars glimmered, silver as the gaze that watched them. Silver gaze returned to the listeners, and his light voice sang softly, yet every word was heard with clarity. ?While Honor instilled itself deeply in Amoren?s heart and mind, darkness was a thorny seed in Fenrin. It grew and fouled. He wished to rule, to preside over all of the territory. Ailsa and Thorn despaired at their dark son?s growing hate for all that was good. He wanted nothing to do with honor, killed for the enjoyment of killing, and left the prey he caught uneaten, and for the ravens to feast upon.

?For two more years, the brothers grew far apart, no matter what the effort Amoren made to bring his brother to good. Their parents refused to drive Fenrin out, despite the pleas of their pack, refusing to see that Fenrin was beyond saving. It was a fatal mistake. Unbeknownst to Talon and Ailsa, Fenrin had been gathering wolves that matched his nature. These wolves were exiles in the land, hiding in the shadows, banned from Whitemoon territory. Ailsa and Thorn were growing old. They had ruled well for nine long, wonderful years. They were eleven, and Ailsa had contracted a cold during the winter, and her lungs had never really recovered.?

Arro bowed his head, ears pulling back. The white pup leaned forward to hear better. Arro lifted his head and stared out over the heads of the wolves. His musical voice was flat as he continued the tale. ?On the eve of Amoren and Fenrin?s third year of life, Fenrin slipped out of the territory, and when he snuck back in, there followed behind him as shadows the wolves he had gathered. In that night, a great battle ensued. Warriors fought rogues, and when morning arose, Thorn was dying, and Ailsa was dead. The rogues had retreated and Amoren sat beside his father. Many in Whitemoon pack had died in the unexpected attack. And as he died, Talon gave Whitemoon to Amoren.

?After Talon?s death, Amoren gathered the remaining wolves of Whitemoon together two nights later, and under a blood moon, drove Fenrin and his dark wolves far, far away from this territory. At the end of that night, ten wolves remained of what had once been a powerful pack. It was then that Whitemoon Pack was no more in name. Redwood Pack, for the trees that grace our territory. Meanwhile, Fenrin had gathered the dark wolves together, and formed his own pack. Blackmoon Pack. For two years, all was quiet; Redwood pack managed to stabilize and, like his parents before him, Amoren ruled with a kind paw, and honorable heart. And he has ruled so ever since.?

Arro finished, stepping back and settling down beside Iroila. Bear bowed his head. ?I believe it is time for the little ones to be abed now.? He pounced forward with a mock snarl, and the little white female scampered away with her siblings, all of them giggling. Bear?s heavy muzzle gaped in a laughing pant as his fluffy tail wagged behind him.

From the edges, the Alpha watched the little female run, until she and her three siblings vanished from view into the redwood trunk den, before he nuzzled his mate and led the way to their den.

Erani lay curled against the back of the sleeping alcove, deep blue pools closed, black nose tucked under the tip of her tail. She slept peacefully, with the sounds of her children dreaming around her and the sounds of morning singing faintly outside. A break in her breathing fluttered the fur of her tail, and a particularly loud twitter of a bird made her eyelids flutter open, sleepy gaze wandering blearily about the den. She raised her head and yawned widely, tongue curling, eyes clamped shut. She rose, stretching as she went, and wandered out of the alcove, glancing over at her pups, glad to see the Gabriel?s black pelt was mixed with his sisters. It was good to have him back after him vanishing like that.

She ambled out of the den and made her way to the spring, lapping at the pool, before she made her way out of the ravine and out to a day of gathering herbs and checking the members of Valhalla.

((1581 word post. took forever to decide on a story.))

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