The Ancients

It was clear that night. The moon hung listlessly in the sky allowing its light to flow over the white, powdered landscape and the blue-black blanket of the sky had just started to show the faintest hint of dawn. The snow shone like diamonds against the trees rough, bordering the edge of the plains as paws crunched the crystalized snow, disturbing it for the first time since it had fallen, hours before.

The paws belongs a mighty wolf, twice the size of any that roam the wilderness today. Covered in thick mottled grey and white fur, the wolf's golden eyes reflected the moon's eerie glow as he bowed his head to take in the scent gliding along the smooth surface that covered the ground, carried by the faintest hint of a breeze. The pungent smell of human filled his nostrils and his lip curled as remorse and bitter hatred filled his gut. He did not wish to fight but the treason the humans had committed could not be excused. From the forest's edge, another wolf paced out of the darkness to stand a few feet away from her leader. Russet brown against the pure white snow, her fur bristled at the scent that tainted the night air.

"Trymundr, we cannot wait much longer," Her voice cut through the silence of the night like a blade, causing the male to flinch slightly. "Without the darkness, we will lose the element of surprise."

Trymundr growled under his breath before turning to face his sister. "Freyja, I am not sure if I can do this." His voice laced in remorse, he felt his tail droop as he thought of the duty that had been put upon his pack. His sister whined under her breath and paced up to her brother's side.

"I understand that brother, but you cannot defy the Ancients or our entire pack will follow a similar fate." Her voice was soft but her eyes could not hide the irritation she felt towards her brother's weak will. As leader of the pack, it was his job to enforce the law of the Ancients, just as every other Alpha in the in the land did. Defying such a law was certain death, not just to the individual, but all that followed him. The Ancients could not afford to have doubt spread through out the ones in their care.

Lifting his head, Trymundr let the loathing he felt for the humans rush through his veins. Tossing his head back in a deep but quick howl, he leapt forward over the snow, his sister at his side. From the trees, close to forty wolves sprung into action. Faces contorted with rage, their growls and yelps filled the air along with the snow being kicked up from their paws as they followed their leader.

Refusing to move, two wolves stood at the edge of the forest, one pure white, the other, a bright auburn colour. The white she-wolf looked up at her mate, her once beautiful face speckled with dull grey fur as her age became more prominent.

"Our son is making a mistake."  She murmured, ember eyes clouded grey. Her sight, once keen had become weak over the years, but she could still hear the hatred and hostility in the snarls of her pack as the raced towards their victims. Her mate, Liulfr, bowed his head. He had once been leader of the pack, but it became too much for the once regal leader, causing him to hand the pack over to his son. This decision he had made now made him doubt his actions.

"I know Endymion." His voice was pained as he spoke. "But there is little we can do."

Whining and shuffling her paws, Endymion looked out at the plains the pack at taken off over. They were no longer in sight but she could hear them as they ran. Her heart ached as she listened to her pack, her family, run to their death.

*           *           *

The screaming was deafening. The women clutched their children to their breasts as the vicious wolves snapped their jaws, trying to prise the young humans from their mothers. The men threw their spears at the wicked creatures in vein as the beasts tore at their clothes.

Tents fell and supplies were scattered as Trymundr and his pack stormed the encampment. Fur soaked from the snow he had sprinted through, his paws were caked with the mud as he skidded over the muck the snow and dirt had created. A scent caught his attention and he froze.

She stood in front of him barely full-grown, spear in hand. Her dark brown hair hung hazardously across her face as he listened to her heart race in her chest. Golden eyes met dark brown, as the girl screamed in rage and tossed the sharp stick at the wolf that had once been her companion. Tears clouded her vision as the spear missed his mark and the wolf snarled at her.

Looking around her, she saw the pack she had once befriended tear apart her family. Shelter destroyed and blood spilt on the muddy snow, the feeling of betrayal was quickly replaced with that of sorrow. If her family would not survive this, she did not wish to either. This was her fault and she had lost the right to survive. Looking back at giant male wolf in front of her she stared at the once friendly face of her friend and fell to her knees, lifting her chin to expose her neck.

Hesitating, Trymundr felt his heart tighten as the female lifted her chin. He saw the tears streak her dirty cheeks and could hear her ragged breath catch in her throat. He had hoped it would be her spear that ended him, that the thing that had bought them together would separate them forever, but it could not be. He caught sight of Freyja behind the girl, her muzzle soaked with blood as she stared at him with look of impatience on her face. He had no choice. Crouching, he snarled ferociously.

The girl trembled at the throaty rumble and peered down her nose, keeping her chin up. Their eyes met as he leapt forward. His paws crushed her shoulders back against the snow, crushing her collarbone as she stared into the soul of the one who had once vowed to protect her. She felt his breath on her face and neck and she shut her eyes.

Fangs met skin. Blood flowed over the combined water and earth as the predator laid waste to his prey. Little did he know he had condemned his pack.