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 Posted: Sun Jan 08, 2012 11:25 pm
There was pain, and his mind reeled with it. Sharp, terrible pain, inside and out, on every patch of skin that could ever be beaten or torn. He was delirious, and with every step he took dribbles of blood splattered to the ground. The breath in his lungs rattled, and stumbling, he thought of letting his weary body fall - for the breath of a rest it might give him, or the sleep that he so achingly desired.
But he couldn’t, not with all the fires of hell burning brightly behind him. He had to keep moving, or else forfeit what was left of his life to the demon he thought he’d understood. The events of that morning would forever be burnt into the fabric of Sudhir’s mind, no matter how far he ran, or how much longer he had to live. He fought the devil, and was still alive.
~~~
It was through ritual that Sudhir watched the sunrise as it crept over the waters every morning, when all was quiet and he could think of peace. Unlike anything else he knew, the river was constant; always coursing, never changing. How many acquaintances it had seen, how many lives it had carried away as though instinctively coursing away from the bone-and-barrens land of Sudhir’s birth. Strangers, but not invaders - wolves who through accident or misguidings had found themselves in hostile territory.
Sudhir had no greater joy in life than through finding these strangers, and soaking in their stories of what life was like on the other side of the river. It was his true reason for patrolling the borders. He didn’t care what invaders tried their luck with the lair of villains and cutthroats he had come to known as packmates - good on them, if they thought they could loot this place through. No, invaders would be dealt with swiftly and without trouble, even if they found their way through Sudhir’s defence. It was for the company of kindness and the opportunity to learn that drew him away from the society he felt no ilk for, out where most Terror mercenaries didn’t bother to dwell.
It was for her.
He thought of the slight little creature, the delicate she-wolf, who had wandered her way a little too far east for safety - and he blushed. She spoke sweetly, and of sweet things, things he wished he could see with his own eyes and feel with his own heart. Family did not mean survival of the fittest - it meant fellowship and comfort to her, a place she had left but so dearly wished she could return to if her travels went awry. Sometimes it was alright to watch the rabbits, and not have to tear them down. It was okay to think that colours were beautiful, and take time for such indulgences as flowers and butterflies. She was a delight who kept returning, despite his most earnest of warnings.
Flowers so beautiful could not bloom where they were routinely stomped out.
But she was also a clever one, and a dreamer, who knew what she wanted and made such wonderful plans - plans that Sudhir could almost believe. She had found something in Sudhir that she wanted to ‘save,’ which seemed funny - save him from what? She called it an earnestness, or a tenderness, which could only be described by placing her petite nuzzle against his chest and above his heart. She wanted to save that, because she feared the darkness might try to swallow him whole.
He tried to explain that he had grown up in darkness, and was used to it - it couldn’t hurt him, so long as he did as it pleased. But she wasn’t satisfied with that answer, and was so beautifully desperate for him to run away with her, to her lands, where the wildflowers would be blooming and her family would be waiting to accept him into the fold. A place where he didn’t have to fight for survival, or dominance, or even acceptance… unlike what he fought for here, in the shadow of a father who held such special disdain for the eldest son.
Eventually, he buckled. Caved in. Fell victim to her delicate wiles, and agreed. However, he would go nowhere without his brother - not without Narangi, who was too good to be left behind. Narangi with the soul of gold. Narangi, who could not be polluted by evil, and who was targeted for his innocence. Of course, she agreed. The brothers would be together on this adventure to a land of milk and honey, where they belonged.
They were going to leave together.
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Posted: Mon Jan 09, 2012 8:41 am
His father once told him that any and all outsiders were to be greeted with unsheathed fangs - that no wolf, except those proven worthy of the Goblin King’s court, were to leave with their lives. He tried very carefully to keep his beautiful saviour a secret from all who would try to take her away, or chase her off before their grand escape could go through. He was especially frightened for her safety from his father, who had no qualms in destroying anything Sudhir wanted to protect.
It was Savhir who now stood at the edge of Sudhir’s river, a sudden appearance of red and fury that could have burned the air - even in his best of moods.
Sudhir’s blood ran cold, and for a moment he thought, could he have known? But this wasn’t the time he usually met up with his flower, so perhaps it was a happy coincidence. Surely he had given no indication that he had any sort of contact with the outside world; he had been so careful as to wash her scent off him every time they parted ways, and kept his tongue close to his cheek when any sort of word exchange was necessary between him and other pack members. Still, he was wary of his own father and why he would be so far removed from his usual hunting ground and his mate, who practically dictated his every action. Sudhir’s mother was a force of her own, and one not lightly reckoned with - but Savhir wasn’t enjoying her company today.
Sudhir could only be nonchalant and hope his father hadn’t suspected anything. It was odd to see Savhir on this corner of the border, looking out over the river as though expecting something, mane bristled and tail cutting a sharp flag as it rose straight out behind him. Sudhir was immediately made wary, knowing that in this sort of mood Savhir would be all too obliged to bully whomever got in his way. In other words, Savhir was looking rather pleased with himself. “Father,” he greeted slowly, keeping his distance and remaining low to the ground. “Father, this isn’t your usual haunt. What brings you out so far?”
Savhir’s ears perked, and tossing a sideglance in the direction of his son, replied, “Far is it from your position to question where I roam, boy. However… I suppose your inquiry is as valid as any. I am - well - enjoying the taste of life, one might say. Yes… the taste of life. And fulfilling a necessary duty, of course. Trying to figure out what is so very special about this little place. Hah, well, maybe I‘ve figured that out already.”
So many words! His father was speaking in riddles, though, and Sudhir knew it.
Sudhir frowned. “I’m not quite sure I understand,” he replied, inching closer. “I haven’t neglected any part of my duties, have I? I was under the impression that my job was a good one.”
“Good, maybe. In who’s eyes could it ever be good? But then, I always understood you were a disappointing sort…” Savhir turned his head, jowls dripping with saliva, and cracked his maw in a grotesue, darkened smile. “Your hunting skills were poor, so I came to pick up the slack.”
Sudhir shuddered. “Oh, is - is that what this is about. I apologize, I should have known that my efforts were lacking,” he said, lowering his head and tail accordingly. So it was a hunt, then, that took him so far. Good… ”I hope it was with luck that you hunted.”
”Do you indeed?” Savhir cackled, shaking his head and almost wagging his tail. “Fancy that. When have I ever been in need of luck? Come closer, would you, I’d rather not have to shout our conversation - if it could be called one, anyways. Closer, boy.”
He didn’t want to approach his father - didn’t want to be chastised, or punished for a crime he wasn’t sure he had truly committed. But still, he couldn’t deny his father’s strong words. It hadn’t been a suggestion. With his tail limp behind him and ears somewhat docked, Sudhir very gently took the few necessary steps. “Much better, yes, I do believe that’ll be fine - for now. So. Tell me, what sorts of interesting get-alongs do you experience along this river? Still pining away for friends, heaven forbid?”
“I have comerades aplenty within the pack. Why would I need to go so far in search of company?” Sudhir shrewdly replied, eyes falling to the side under the sheer pressure of Savhir’s mist-grey eyes.”If I wanted friends, I would go to Zisa - or Narangi -”
“PAH!”
Nearly jumping straight from his fur, Sudhir all but cowered at his father’s heavy exclaimation. “I”ll say it again - Pah! I do understand your - ah - attachment to your brother, but have you ever thought that perhaps he’d be better off with a torn throat? What good do you hope to achieve when you partner yourself with weaklings - with a dunce such as Narangi? And how sweet, you are fond of a cousin who is such a paw-licker… What could you have been, I wonder, if I had not failed so horribly at raising you? Be careful who you walk with, boy, or else you’ll be handed a very early grave.”
Sudhir’s belly nearly graced the forest floor, his tail now wrapped about his back legs as he cowered before his father - who was angry, or perhaps justified, and had roared him to his knees. He spoke so dangerously, and with a fire that had obviously been burning for a while now - had bottled it up, ruminated on it, and unleashed it when the time had come. Unleashed it on a quivering Sudhir who, despite his better judgements, still weakly argued, “Narangi is a stronger wolf than you believe he is…”
“Oh, is he now? Is he really strong? Or are you just deluding yourself? Be honest when you tell me this: how long do you believe he’ll continue living? How long do you think it will take for him to bounce into the wrong wolf, and finally, finally be plucked from our world? His is a mental disease that rots away judgement and has turned his brain into jelly! He does not think, and should he be so graced as to continue on his current path, then I myself will see to his ending. Do you understand?”
Fright kept him quiet, but still, Sudhir could feel the bristling of his mane at the callousness in Savhir’s voice. “I can’t let you harm him,” he murmured, a pathetic grimace of a snarl raising the corner of his lip. “He is unorthodox in his ways, but still has the heart of a warrior.”
Wordlessly, Savhir barked. White fangs were exposed from gummy black lips, and for the briefest moment, Sudhir was certain he would attack; however, Savhir’s paws remained firmly anchored to where he stood. He shook his head, sending little glistening spots of spittle flying, and in a dangerously low voice he hissed, ”You do not understand me. But what could I have expected? You’re so blind, so very blind… Someday, you’ll see that your bleeding heart will only run you dry. It’s been like this for so long, and I’ve been a fool for thinking I could change you. Always the optimist, you are, always looking for strays to care for even when our doctrine calls for killing. You’ve not once killed anything so real as another wolf, have you? Letting them poison your mind further, telling you of wonderful, far-off places…”
Savhir’s eyes trailed away from his son, resting on a point down the riverbank that changed his features into something akin to satisfaction. “They don’t exist, you know. Not for you, anyways. Go ahead and try to tell yourself otherwise, but first, if you would come see what I have found for you…”
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Posted: Mon Jan 16, 2012 6:18 pm
There was a corpse in the river.
Sodden and small, half-submerged and tangled amongst the roots of a semi-fallen tree, eyes filmy - but wide. Not even the slightest hope of revival. No hope that it could be anyone else.
How? How had he found her? Why had he killed her?
… The last wasn’t so much a question as it was a lamentation. Sudhir’s heart refused to beat, and his lungs could not pull in enough oxygen to support the mind now crashing into a horror that could not possibly have been real. His beautiful flower, his light through the darkness, his closest friend…
A low moan began to break through his chest, every muscle spasming until he tremored so violently, it seemed he would fall in after her. If only he could leap to her, and nuzzle her awake - shake off the death - run away with her. Away from the monsters that painted themselves in blood, and enjoyed it.
She was supposed to save him!
”Do you now understand the need for a good hunt once in a while?” Savhir quietly sighed. Condescention was heavy on his lips, and practically dribbled down his chin as he looked down at the broken little female as well. As though she had been…
“What have you done…?” Sudhir choked, reaching out one paw to touch the corpse - to gently nudge her hindquarters, grimacing as she ducked a bit further into the water. “Why - why have you done this?”
He almost couldn’t speak. What did come out was strained, almost a hiss of air through his teeth as he bit into his lip. “Oh, do not get me wrong - she was a very pretty one, certainly the sort you might go after. But she was not pack, and alas, that was her flaw… that, and she spoke very strange things. Very strange things. Why, I almost couldn’t help myself, you know. Poor dear, she just couldn’t swim. And I did try to pull her out… once I was sure she’d stopped moving.”
Repeatedly, he was stabbed. Each faint pulse of his heart felt as though his chest might burst, or perhaps he would vomit. He felt such a swelling of bile at the back of his tongue, and heaved what little had been in his belly at the time. “Oh, now you’re just overreacting!” Savhir cried, hopping down beside Sudhir and leaning in close to him. He stretched out his thick neck and pressed his nostrils against the little female’s thigh, taking in a deep draught of air and swelling with it. “She’s hardly begun to rot at all! Still fresh as a rose, or a daisy, or - well, so many other things. Perhaps she might make a nice snack, what do you say?”
One can only ever be so sorrowful, so filled with regret and fear and terror and hatred - one can only handle so many negative emotions before something begins to break. For Sudhir, the transition between lamentation and an overwhelming fury took only the sound of his father’s voice in his ear, and the scent of her blood -her blood! - on his neck, intermingled with his already crimson chesfurs. He hadn’t noticed the blood, not until then, and damned if he heard any of Savhir’s last words - all he could see was his father prodding at the corpse of a dear, dead wolf, and that was enough.
His eyes widened, his breath came in quickly. The fur began to bristle along his spine, and his lips quivered in an involuntary snarl. His tail came out from between his legs, and slowly, he turned a sharp, wide eye to regard his father with a gaze like flames. He was on fire, and it burnt. His throat burned, and his eyes burned - his gut burned, as his stomach churned with the most vile of thoughts. It wasn’t a matter of what he could do, or if he had any chance at doing it right…
But he had to try. He had to at least attempt to take the breath from the demon that had snuffed out his flower, and with a wordless scream, he launched himself for a crimson throat.
He tasted blood.
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Posted: Mon Jan 16, 2012 10:27 pm
It hadn’t been his father’s blood. The demon’s neck was just too thick, far too well-muscled for Sudhi’rs fangs to really get any sort of hold. But still he clung to the musky furs as though through sheer determination he might get through to the lifeblood below; it was all he saw, pulsing away before him, taunting him with the knowledge that his father was alive while his flower lay in shallow, filthy waters. He had to do this, for her sake. He had to bring justice to her murderer, or else die trying.
Briefly, it crossed his mind that he might be happier if Savhir ended his life, as well.
The big wolf seemed keen on doing just that, and was not kind with the way he enveloped Sudhir’s head in his cavernous mouth; Sudhir felt himself being torn away, tossed into mud and gravel, but with a sense of distance that made him impervious to damage. He could not feel the dig of his father’s fangs into the back of his neck, nor did he realize that he was horribly outweighed and outmaneouvered; he threw himself in again and again, tearing at fur and digging his claws into whatever could be considered part of Savhir’s body, all the while feeling his father doing the same.
He was knocked in the gut, and felt breathless, but did not stumble. Jaws hinged for his neck, and only through divine grace did Sudhir twist himself away from certain death, tumbling into the shallows and pressing himself forward once again.
Anything past that last memory was a blur, almost completely absent from recollection. Bodies pounding against one another, the sound of his father’s voice as it was roared into his ears - the cold, cold water, and the press of sharp claws against his chest.
And a laughter, drowned out by the rushing of his own blood through the veins in his head. Savhir didn’t relent until Sudhir did not move, and then satisfied, let the river do what it would.
~~~
How could he ever forget his failure? That the one who had killed his beloved still slunk along the earth? That he couldn’t stop the monster from devouring everyone he loved, as he stumbled away like a coward? He could not stop Savhir, not in his blindest of rages, and now… now he hardly knew where he was.
But he was aware that he had been walking for days. Several, probably. He didn’t really care, thinking only of the death that tagged along in his shadow. He could stumble as far away from his father as possible, try to flee the fangs that had torn into his hide with an abhorrent amount of ease and skill; he could only move forward, and hope that it was a good direction. He would let his body fall when it needed rest, and climb back up when he felt he still had a bit further to go before he would be allowed to die.
He thought he saw her face.
He thought he heard her laugh.
He thought he might follow her voice, and finally be allowed at least a little peace.
He didn’t think he could follow her much further.
He fell.
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