Sephtis

8. Banishment?

Over and over I think on the happenings of the day and this night, out of all the confusion and anguish, one thing stands out and it torments me. Droug had ordered me to leave his house; is this banishment? Of this I do not know, and the uncertainty is far worse then the command itself.

At last I wipe my face with my hands and start to walk. I do not care where I am headed, and even though I know the village's pathways through the forest, I do not keep to them. The moons light begins to shimmer through the towering trees, and the air feels lighter. A breeze blowing against my face carries the sound of yelping and growling. Thinking of the wolf cubs I saw in yesterdays daylight I move into the thick shadows of the trees, and creep forward. My feet pad against cold, even stone and brushing away the leaves I see carefully placed, flat stones forming a path. Moving on wards with renewed curiosity I see them. The cubs are rolling and playing in a patch of moonlight, teasing their mother who lays next to the crumbling remains of a stone wall, trying to sleep. Nearby, under a still standing archway, his dark pelt gleaming with life and strength, lies a huge male. A smaller female, much lighter in color, sits under a tree, whose roots have grown over and around the stone walls of the ruined building, she is busy washing herself. They all have bulging sides, telling of a good days hunt, and they now are relaxing in the nights coolness. I shrink against a tree, unmoving, hardly daring to breathe. The wind continues to blow towards me, and though I can smell the wolves, they thankfully cannot smell me.

The cubs become more frenzied in their attempt to goad their mother out of sleeps grasp, and into a game. They tear at her ears with their tiny teeth, bite her hindquarters and leap on her so heavily her whole body shakes. She tolerates them for a long time, then after a few particularly rough bites she raises her head and growls lowly. The pups cower back, whimpering and for a moment or two they give her peace. But as soon as she puts her head down and closes her eyes they are at her again, biting her hard enough to make her yelp. She leaps up and nips at them, they run off and she sits, licking the small wounds they have given her. The cubs creep close again, plotting and ambush.

The smaller female has finished her bath, and is watching the cubs. Suddenly she bounds towards them, startling them so much they leap into the air, tails and backs bristling. Softly she growls and then runs a small distance away, watching them sideways, daring them to follow. They do. She endures their torments with a patience that amazes me, but sometimes they get too vicious, and she snarls at them in earnest. They cringe before her, bellies to the ground, tails tucked between their legs. Their fluffy ears lie flat against their small heads, and their narrowed eyes do not dare to meet hers. She stands over them, growling, then walks away with her tail held high and her legs stiff, as if she no longer condescends to know them. They watch her go, eyes bright, then they launch themselves at her in another onslaught, and they tumble and snarl and snap until dust and leaves begin to fly.

The big wolf gets up and goes over to the she-wolf. Gently he mouths her ears and snout, and she whines, rolling over onto her back and caressing his face and neck with her huge paws. They are tender together, whining softly and nuzzling one another. I realize that he is her mate, and the father of the cubs. Then he sits beside her, tail wagging and grinning so hideously and happily that I cant help but laugh. Immediately he sees me, and I freeze. His grin vanishes. His ears prick forward, his black lips close. Slowly he stands, his eyes burning on my face. The other wolf stops her play with the pups, and also confronts me. The cubs, sensing the tension, are still, and in an instant the she-wolf too is on her feet, head turned to me.