Ash: The Wolves of the World's End

Chapter 7

The pack's echo had rung out at last, and Ash had caught a rabbit. Its small, helpless body shook as he slammed it at a rock in fury.

     How could she have done this? The rabbit tried to escape, but Ash put all his pent up emotion into leaping at it, snapping at it with teeth, until his muzzle was covered in warm blood. He ripped it apart, spilling the animal's insides. Who was he to her? he thought as he tore into flesh, too enraged to even savor its taste.

     "Does that make you feel any better?" Remus. Always trying to make things better. "Don't you get it?" Ash growled. "I saved her live, and this is how she repays me? Maybe you don't get, you're just an omega anyways-"

     "Listen to me Ash! It's not entirely her fault. Someone would have to take Celeste's place, and Bianca isn't old enough or mature enough to lead well. And if she had refused, Wyrden might have left you both out in the snow, alone."

     "So? We could make it."

     "Maybe, but for how long?" Remus paused. "Ash, there's hunters. There's the issue of food as well. Smell out around you. What can you find?"

     Ash's anger deflated a bit, and he studied the land for a moment. There were mountains to the north and arctic plains to the south. He could smell scent markings from prey around him, but noticed that the plummeted outside the pack borders. And there were the hunters as well. Using his sight, he saw a pinprick of yellow light farther into the plains. They were too far for his nose, but something about them seemed supernatural, much like the streamers of light that blossomed through the sky when the night was clear.

     "Fine then. You win," Ash admitted.

     "Wait." Remus was staring towards the small speck of light that marked the hunters. "Did you hear that?"

     "Someone's barking. Is it one of the pack?"

     Remus stood still. "No, it’s one of them. No wolf that I know makes a sound like that-"

     "Except me," finished a voice behind them. Ash almost jumped out of surprise, until he smelled that it was Jet.

     "My mother," the black wolf continued, "lived with them for a time. There was a hard winter with lots of snow, and she left the hunters. She met a lone wolf who had left his pack because there wasn't enough game to hunt. She died near the end of spring from exhaustion, after giving birth to me and two other pups. But she was different from the other wolves; her ears would sag and her tail was curled. And she barked like that, of course. But, the point is, wolves who join the hunters... change, a lot."

     "I want to try and get closer," said Ash, surprising himself. He felt the others wince as he said it. "To smell what they're like."

     "Its suicide," Remus whimpered as if he were begging. "They'll spook if they see us; we'll be dead within a minute."

     "My best friend just left me to become alpha with another wolf," Ash shot back. "If you're afraid to go, that's fine."

     "I'm not afraid," Jet growled defensively.

     "Good." Ash turned to the south. "If you change your mind later Remus, you know where to look."

     Ash lay low at the edge of the trees, with Jet and Remus at his side. He knew that Remus had been a tough nut to crack, but it was nice to have a friend by him that he could trust.

     "Has the wind changed direction at all?" he whispered to Jet. The wolf shook his head. Good, they were lying downwind of the camp; no one would notice them.

     The camp itself stood maybe ten or twenty paces south. Ash had studied the hunters with the curiosity of a pup on its first day out of its den. Everything was strange, from the many things the hunters carried with them to the crackling sounds coming from that glowing thing the hunters huddled around. He was especially perplexed by it. It looked alive, it moved and swayed, and it even had its own smell. Ash noticed that it grew and shrank; when it got too small, one hunter would throw on a thick piece of tree, and its little tendrils would devour it, making a sizzling and spitting sound as it gnawed away at the wood.

     The wolves, or the not-wolves, were even stranger. They followed the hunters around like pups following their mother. Just like Jet had said, their ears sagged and they always held their tails curled. But what he really noticed was the barking; it never stopped. "They can't use smells like we do," Jet had whispered when Ash had asked. "Our scents change whenever we feel a certain way, but theirs don't. So they bark a lot more." Ash had assumed Jet was joking at first; how could anyone get anything done without smells? But maybe they could.

     "Why are we still here?" Remus had hissed after the hunters fell asleep. 'The others will wonder where we went."

     "We haven't been gone too long," Ash commented, but secretly, he was just as on edge as Remus was. "What if we brought back some of the glowing stuff?"

     Both Remus and Jet nearly jumped. "It’s called fire," said Jet, trying unsuccessfully to disguise his shock. "But why should we?"

     "Why not? It’s warmth; it’s light. It’s almost like magic." Ash knew they weren't buying it. "Fine," he admitted, "but I'm at least going to see it closer." And with that, he stood up and slowly approached the fire. Even at the outskirts, he felt its heat, like a miniature sun.

     "Ash, stay down," Remus whispered urgently. The not-wolves had begun barking and growling as he approached. He pressed himself closer to the earth and kept his tail low, hoping the hunters hadn't woken up.

     The fire was feet away now, and Ash squinted as its exquisite brightness ate at his vision. The smell had become overpowering, and he felt himself gasping for air as a dark, smoky vapor engulfed him, stinging his eyes and purging his nose. For a moment, the pain was enough to make him howl in agony. How can anyone put up with such a smell? he thought. It was as if he had vomited through his nose, except ten times more acidic. Just as he felt his legs and his tail weaken from the lack of fresh air, the wind shifted, and he could breathe again.

     Ash stood entranced by the fire. Its long tendrils seemed to flap and flicker on their own accord. And the warmth! If he could bring back some of it, not even the coldest blizzard could overpower him. He glanced back. The others waited for him by the trees, and the hunters remained sprawled in sleep. They looked so powerless; clawless, fangless, and only the furs of other animals to protect them. He snarled silently as he saw some of the furs were once wolves. We could end it right now, he thought. We could be heroes for killing such monsters. Why not? His blood was pumping, maybe too loudly now. Wyrden would learn to respect me. Selena would be my mate. I could be leader of the pack. He was about to pounce at them, when a voice inside him stopped him dead. They're defenseless. Would Selena really love you for killing in cold blood? The voice was right; he knew it.

     I'm not the monster, he decided. But I can take their best asset. He inched his muzzle closer towards the fire, and grabbed at one of the glowing red rocks.

     Owww! He stumbled back into the cold, his nose singed. It bit me! Frantically, he rubbed his muzzle in a patch of snow, relaxing as the pain began to melt away. He heard barking from the other side of the fire. Suddenly, a dark shadow blocked its light.

     Ash leapt out of the way as one of the hunters swung at him. "Jet, Remus! Help!" he howled, and two shapes jumped out of the forest. The hunter glanced at them for a second, then turned back to Ash.

     He's going to kill me, he thought, frantically searching for an escape. The fire stood behind him, blocking his way out, and the other two hunters had woken. He was surrounded. But rather than wait for his death, he felt an urge to fight back. Snarling at them, he crouched low to jump at them, the frenzied wolf killers, and-

     He felt a sharp thud in the back of his head, and everything faded to black.