The Island's Inhabitant

The Wolf

Zoey mounted the hill and paused as she absorbed the landscape before her. The grass waved in the wind, sending a shiver through the fields. Although the sun sat in its highest point in the sky, its warmth barely touched her. She pulled the fur cloak on her shoulders a little tighter about her body. While the temperature was quite pleasant, the wind carried a soft chill.

"I'm surprised," Orrick said at Zoey's feet. She jumped as she momentarily forgot he could speak. He continued on, ignoring her startle, which was becoming a sort of habit it seemed. "In the Reaches, daffodils and baby bluebonnets paint the meadows yellow and blue, and I could always smell cherry blossoms miles away." He paused and lifted his nose, sniffing the air for a long moment. "I cannot smell the cherry blossoms here."

Zoey knelt and patted his head, making the young fox perk up immediately. He pawed into her lap and licked her cheek. Laughing, she shoved him off, but with a playful growl he jumped onto her chest. They rolled in the grass for a moment, his yips mixing with her laughs. When the wrestling match ended with Orrick the clear victor standing atop Zoey, she sighed and stared at the bright sky and puffy clouds. When was the last time she had allowed herself to laugh like this? Maybe Aunt Mae wasn't far off when she suggested getting a dog. Zoey never realized how incredibly fun they were.

"Okay, play time's over!" Zoey stated, jumping to her feet. Orrick, who had been chewing on several stalks of grass, bounced up and pranced on through the fields, his bushy red tail raised from the ground.

"We should be seeing someone soon," the fox said. "After all the walking we have done, surely we have reached the human lands by now."

They walked for some time when a howl echoed across the hills behind them. All the fur on Orrick's back suddenly lifted as he turned with a sinister snarl.

"I was hoping he wouldn't notice," the fox growled.

"Who is it?" Zoey asked, her hand instinctively slipping towards the hilt of the Sword.

Orrick failed to reply, but he remained in fighting stance. More and more howls joined the first. Birds fled their perches as the pound of racing paws sent a tremble through the ground. A pack of great grey wolves flattened the green grass, and at its head ran a large, white wolf. He broke from the pack and paused before Orrick and Zoey. The other wolves proceeded to encircle the three.

"Orrick Fallon, Young Chief of the Risen Foxes!" the white wolf proclaimed.

Orrick's snarl softened as he bowed. "Shocney Whitehead, Ancestral Protector of the Southern Reaches," he answered quietly.

"Where exactly do you think you are going?"

"With this girl."

"Why? Your duties are in the Reaches. Just because I am in command for the time being, that does not give you leave to gallivant wherever you would like. Your father—"

"I know what my father did, Shocney!" Orrick growled. He sighed, then continued more calmly. "Healer told me to come."

Shocney took half a step back, his face slightly betraying his shock. "He knows better than I what you were chosen to do... Why would he send you when you must be training?"

"Perhaps you should go ask him yourself. He refused to tell me why. He simply said for me to come and help this girl."

The wolf turned and examined Zoey. His shoulders stood to her waist, and he was longer than she was tall. His fur was white like the clouds and thick like the grass. His blue icy eyes pierced her own as his black, wet nose sniffed her up and down. "What is your name?" he finally asked.

"Zoey McKnight," she answered.

He sniffed again. "I know your scent... I know your name... I do not know your face..."