The Wolf of the Wilds

The Day Trip

When she awoke she felt like death.

"Fuck," she breathed, feeling like she'd been trampled by a raging ogre. All of her muscles ached as if she'd been running nonstop for hours and her hand stung from multiple small cuts and grazes. She tasted blood in her mouth and when she cracked open an eye she saw more blood.

Slowly she pushed herself into a seated position, taking deep painful breaths. Her eyes had now adjusted to the light and she could see the mess she had made. Blood coated the metal surfaces, some parts were relatively fresh, while others were caked on and dry. The bars were dented in places and she could see teeth marks and scratches pressed into the metalwork.

"Wow, I wasn't in a good mood last night," she murmured, inspecting the damage she'd caused. Thankfully she hadn't appeared to have harmed the cage too badly. It just needed a good clean, but that was a job for another time. For now she just wanted to get out of her prison and have some food.

She dragged her body to the door and fumbled with the locks as she opened each one of them with a number code. Once the door swung open she picked up a tunic she'd left folded on the ground and pulled it over her ruined rags. Then she put on her gloves and fastened her knife to her waist, now feeling vaguely alive.

Once upstairs she got a fire going and bundled up in a blanket, chewing on a strip of dried venison. She grimaced, scrunching up her nose as she felt the cuts on her bare legs and arms pull as she moved. They'd heal soon enough, but they were a little sore.

Her werewolf self was a bitch. Quite literally.

Slowly she recovered and shuffled around her home with a sluggish motivation. Since she wasn't in the mood for anything vigorous she spent several hours grinding up herbs for remedies, storing away preserved meats and planting seeds in a tray of mud. No one visited her, but it was understandable. Most wolves cooped up for the day after the full moon to lick their wounds and recuperate. Weakness was such a taboo among their people and this was no different. No wolf wanted to be seen covered in self inflicted bruises and grazes.

The next day she felt lighter. She awoke early to the sun rise and left her tower with her bag slung over her shoulder, her cloak drawn tight at her neck and her blade swinging at her hip. As she closed the front door and locked it in her usual way, she tugged a piece of paper from her pocket and scribbled a message onto it.

'Out scavenging, won't return until tomorrow.'

She signed it off with the letter H and pinned it to the heavy timber door. Then she set off down the hillside, watching as the morning mist rolled down the reliefs of the valley and enveloped the village below.

The furnaces were running and the streets smelt distinctly of ash and cinders as she approached the stables. Several wolves were tending to the horses when she arrived and it only took them a few minutes to notice their shadowy visitor.

"Good morning miss Helena! Going out with Cheval today?" Her usual stable hand approached with an overly cheerful continence for so early in the morning, pushing her hair from her face with her forearm. Lena inclined her head.

"Yes. I'll be camping overnight at the old city and I need him to carry what I scavenge," she returned.

"Ah I see. There's a lovely paddock over in the city camp; he'll have a great time. Do you want to take a cart with you?"

"Yes. That would be ideal thank you."

The stable hand was quick to bustle off and Helena waited patiently for her to prepare Cheval for the trip. She leant against the wall and pulled a map out of her bag and consulted it once again.

Her plan was to inspect the ruined city so she could go and see if there was any good loot in the less explored portions of the settlement. It would be a far more lucrative way of earning exim than just hunting game. She also wanted some books to fill her home with and possibly some furniture if there was anything suitable. In some ruins everything had long since rotted into nothing, but hopefully this one would be relatively well preserved. She did love human books. There was a lot to learn from them, despite the fact that the whole species had wiped themselves out like idiots.

Since the Montis stripped the place of metal at an almost continuous rate, there was a modest Montis outpost on the outskirts. It mainly housed workers for overnights and provided care for horses, but it was rather handy and suited her needs. She didn't really want to be taking Cheval through the ruins. They were often dangerous or infested by paranormal scum and it was difficult to fight if you had a panicked horse in your care.

Cheval was delivered to her not long after that and she left the territory as the bulk of the pack awoke. Due to the recent full moon the paths were clear and empty. Apart from Cheval, she was alone and she found herself not resenting that fact. She leant back in her seat and drank in her surroundings. The area was hilly, but not entirely uneven. The path ran along the crest of a band of hills, tough heathland on either side. To her left the forest hugged the base of the hill, keeping close to the river that trickled below. On her right the heath continued onwards to where the land met sky. White billowing clouds covered the expanse above, the definition of the cavernous structure crystal clear in the fresh sun light.

It was quite picturesque.

The journey was reasonably long, taking about two hours due to the extra weight from the cart. Helena passed the well of Holda on the way and sent the odd monument a nod of respect in passing. Pagan gods were a mysterious type of beast and Lena was not stupid enough to dare snub them on the off chance they might actually exist and hold grudges.

Eventually the city rose up from the flats and Helena felt a glimmer of anticipation in her chest as her eyes stared up at the daunting towers of metal. The buildings seemed to stretch on and on, reaching for the clouds, higher and higher as her eyes drew towards the centre.

She could hardly imagine what it once would've looked like. It was now deathly silent and whispered as wind whistled through the towers, the trees and climbing plants rustling gently. Somehow it was both terrifying and beautiful at the same time. The symphony of nesting song birds sounded like a shrill requiem for the lost souls that had perished there and the structures appeared to mourn as they loom overhead.

Once though, this hollow city had contained people. People like herself perhaps, maybe a little different, but they had lived there in this metal maze. It would've been filled with voices and yelling, the grinding of alien machines called cars.

At least she assumed that's what they sounded like. She had seen many a rusted car carcase in her time, but once she had read a book where the character had ridden one. They were similar to horses by the sounds of it, just more complicated, shiny and a little gassy. So much so the humans had been afraid that their cars had changed how the weather worked. It was fascinating really. 

The Montis camp soon appeared and she was welcomed cautiously by the wolves stationed there. Most of them were unfamiliar to her, but clearly word travelled fast and they knew of the ill tempered rogue that had been paired off with their beta. Cheval bid her farewell with a dismissive flick of the tail and an expression that was a little too petulant for her tastes. Nonetheless, she soon left the camp and headed deeper into the ruins.