Divinity. Mortality. War.
Silva, Queen of Wolves, Lady of the True Woods, seeks her only friend Etan, who, along with other deities of the Council of Divinity, has gone missing for reasons unknown. Her search traps her on a world where the wolves ha...
They were birds when they found the rest of the invading soldiers.
They found robins, and hawks, and owls; they learned their forms; they changed. They dropped the four feet of the lupine for the wings of the bird, and they searched from the skies for the rest of the invading force. Minae would not only send fifteen soldiers to kill twenty-four wolves. There would be more. Somewhere close by, they would find more invaders.
And when they did, they would drop their bird form, and take up something more deadly.
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On the edge of the forest, in the southwest corner of Thaen, they found their quarry.
Camps of them. Four camps, spread out across the edge of the forest. Not just an invading force — an occupying force.
Min was greatly over-favoring their chances of success.
Each camp held no more than fifteen men, and was at least a mile apart. Three miles of camps, and at least sixty men.
Eight wolves against sixty men.
Eight wolves who could take any form.
That upped the odds in their chances a bit.
The first camp they focused on was furthest west, and furthest north. It was beside ocean and forest — they'd camped just inland of a rocky beach.
The wolves planned their attack and waited until nightfall.
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The men were all sleeping when it happened. A great crashing, and roaring, and disruption of the tents. Three great bears ripped through the campsite, destroying all in their path. They clawed down screaming soldiers, little men panicking, quaking at the very sight of nature's true power. Three giant elk stampeded into camp and trampled the men who tried to run, gored the men who, half-asleep, reached for their crossbows. Two wolves came in, adding to the fray.
When the eight animals were done, all the men were dead and the camp was destroyed.
The wolves moved on.
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