The Wolf of the Wilds

The Fengari

As it turned out, Felix wasn’t the fastest wolf out there. He struggled to keep up with Helena’s pace, especially as they passed through the undergrowth of the forest. She took pity on him after several minutes and slowed her strides minutely, to a far more manageable pace for the omega. Whether the other three noticed or not, she didn’t know, but she was thankful that they didn’t make a fuss. 

They left her territory and began moving across the scrubland. Dry, toughened plants covered the red soil, with the odd sad tree standing alone atop the gentle hills. These areas were technically Fengari land, but the soil was nutrient poor, lacking in water and yielded few crops, so it remained empty. It wasn’t even patrolled by the guards and was left to nature. Usually the temperature would’ve been unbearable, but it was relatively early so they still had time before the full glare of the sun blazed down on them. Even now Helena could hear the heavy panting of her companions as they tried to cool themselves.

Slowly the terrain became more lush as shrubs and clumps of greenery appeared. The pack’s scent was beginning to become engrained into the area, growing stronger with every step. It made her on edge, her run becoming slower and more calculated, carrying her body closer to the ground. Her companions felt the change and the shift of body language sent them into a nervous trot, ears standing to attention.

When farmland appeared on the horizon, a shrill howl rang out as the sentries alerted the pack to visitors. It wasn’t the usual warning howl, it was a howl of welcome, something that the woman was unfamiliar with.
They were met by two wolves at the start of the cobbled road. Judging from their bored expressions, they weren’t in the mood for drama. Their arms were crossed, their expressions flat. They slowed and shifted, walking towards the pair.

As soon as they recognised Helena, the woman growled and unsheathed a knife.

“Helena? You're not welcome here!” she spat.

The woman remained silent as her four companions stood around her, their confusion tangible.

“Excuse me, miss. We’re from the Montis pack. Our alphas are visiting yours and we wish to reunite with them.”

The pair exchanged silent looks and decided to lower their weapons, still keeping them in hand.

“We understand. Helena is a rogue, so why is the scum travelling with you?” the woman asked Jameson.

He peered down at the her, transferring his weight from one to the other. “We accidently invaded her territory and became lost. She agreed to guide us here in return for food and materials. Please, she means no harm.”

Helena sneered, flashing a slither of teeth at the guards. “Exactly. You can stop acting like I'm holding your first born child at knife point. I’m merely here for payment.”

The man held out his hand. “You can enter if you give up your weapon,” he offered.

She huffed and transferred the sheathed blade that usually sat on her hip to his palm. “Here, can we hurry this along now?”

After that they were escorted the rest of the way into the Fengari village. Their presence was heavy on Helena’s senses as the packs markings grew unbearably thick. She knew it well, but a tang of the Montis wolves added a cool undertone to the village’s atmosphere. There was also something sweet about it this time, enticing almost. Perhaps the local bakery was cooking deserts.

The curious wolves lined the streets, attracted by the sentries’ cries. The older, wearier ones eyed Helena with suspicion, pushing their pups behind them. She had a reputation here and it wasn’t a good one. It probably didn’t help that she was tired from a lack of sleep, so her mood was poorer than usual, her expression foreboding and grim.

The pack den stood in the village square, rising above all the other buildings. In her opinion it was a little grandiose. It didn’t need the life sized statues of their alphas at the door and it certainly didn’t need the coloured mural of the moon planted on the wall. It was an example of the greed and inequality of packs. The stronger wolves could enjoy fine foods and large homes, while the weak scrounged off of scrapes to survive. It sickened her to the stomach.

A/N

Thanks for reading! If you feel like it votes, comments and constructive criticism is always welcome.

Have a nice week!

-H