The Tale of Shadowus and Sorrow

Meeting Paxard

“I have no idea where we are,” Shadowus said, looking around and whistling.

“Why are you whistling?” Sorrow asked, giving him a quizzical look.

“No reason. I just like to whistle,” he answered. He chuckles. Sorrow sniffs the air.

“Something smells...” she pauses. “Familiar. Almost like...” she pauses to sniff again. “Potions.”

Shadowus gives her a confused look.

“Potions?” Sorrow sniffs the air again and gives him a scared look.

“Poisons, more like.”

“I don't smell anything,” Shadowus says, confused.

“No one except us werewolves can smell poisons. That's why humans enslaved us hundreds of years ago. We can sniff out poison even in human form, but it would take a little longer to detect them in that form,” Sorrow explains.

“I see,” Shadowus says, looking around. “But where are we?”

“There is only one place that has such a strong smell of poison: my brother's house. He is a master at poison brewing,” Sorrow says, a little worried.

“I see,” Shadowus repeats, spotting a faint light through the trees. “Well, shall we?” he asks, gesturing towards the light.

“Shall we what?” Sorrow asks, confused.

“Well,” he says. “Go see him of course!”

Sorrow gives him a look of half fear and half worry.

“What?” asks Shadowus, seeing the look on her face.

“Well,” she says, with a hint of worry in her voice. “We aren't exactly on speaking terms. He lives away from the pack. He tried to kill my father and take the throne; so he was banished. He's still mad that he lost his chance to become king,” she explained.

“Remind me which brother it is?” he asks, as they near the house. “I know you mentioned him being exi-” he ducks as a bottle full of green liquid flies towards him, narrowly missing his head. It bursts behind him as it hits a tree. “Uh-oh.”

A disheveled man appears out of the darkness in the direction the bottle came from, having a slight limp.

“Hello, little sis,” he says, grinning an evil grin. “Shadowus,” he says with a curt nod.

Sorrow turns into a wolf. “Paxard,” she growls.

“How do you know me?” Shadowus asks.

“I have my own sources. A certain apprentice of mine has told me all about you and my baby sister,” he sneers.

“Apprentice? We have no potion makers in the city,” Shadowus says.

“I never said he was in your city,” Paxard replies. “You've had experience with him before,” he continues, turning his gaze to Sorrow.

“You may tell me his name. I will not kill him. You have my word,” Shadowus promised.

“Oh, but where's the fun in that?” Paxard teased. “I'd rather you guess.”

“It can't be a vampire. None of us would deal with the likes of you.”

“Oh, but it is a vampire,” Paxard taunted. “One whom Sorrow has met. One you both hate”

“Wait a minute,” Shadowus stops him, thinking for a moment. “Son of a-. Sorrow, come.” he calls as he lies off. Sorrow follows suit. She struggles to keep up, but she manages just fine. She noticed that they aren't flying to the royal city.