Wolfs War (animal fantasy)

Prologue

Stories tell of a legendary hero, living in a remote village at the root of the mountains; a mighty warrior, with the strength of a hundred men.

He has saved entire cities, faced the great demons of the underworld and survived to tell his tales. He has slain the greatest of the collosi, brought gods to their knees, and hunted forgotten pathways by moonlight, that others fear to tread during the day.

He is feared by some, adored and worshiped by others.

He is Kooda

And this is his final and most painful story…

Part 1

NOTE

The west king – Braydon.

Has a son named Destrix from his late wife, the queen.

Associated with the goddess Servilliah, whom he shares a child with, named Attiah.

The East queen – Mara.

Her husband the king is deceased. Killed in war. She has two sons. Tiere and Darta.

Chapter One

Greyface

It was a clear day; the creature lay snoozing in a patch of dusty earth the chickens had rooted through, as they searched for worms and dropped seeds. He gave a deep sigh; dust before his nose was blown up, settling again. His favourite spot in the village to rest was this one here, where the trickling sound of the river was pleasant to hear, and the fish jumping and dancing out of the water was pleasant to see. He heard barking and howling in the distance, the creature opened his eyes and lifted his head. On the opposite side of the river, three white creatures played, chasing each other, chasing the butterflies, jumping and stalking one another, pulling their sibling’s ears. But they were good. They were well behaved, and never bothering the sheep and chickens in the small village. Never bothering the people. These children went to sleep with the sun, were mostly quiet, and almost always obedient. They weren’t perfect, and occasionally did get into trouble, but they were still young and learning.

The creature watched with pride as the three white figures played, running around the houses and over the bridge. His children, his daughters. They were good girls, unlike their brother, who was always getting into trouble.

‘Greyface!’

The creature turned his head in the direction of the call, away from the playing three. A young woman was standing in the doorway to one of the homes, she was young and pretty.

The creature unfolded his legs and heaved himself up. He lumbered towards her, head held low and eyes scanning the ground. He walked in a hunched position, with his back-end sagging to the ground and his sweeping tail brushing the ground as he went.

He slowly ascended the stairs to the doorway and sat heavily before her, his speaker.

‘What is it, Ivana?’

‘I made some meat cakes; I was wondering if you wanted some.’

‘Thank you, yes.’

‘Come in, Naava and I have just finished making them, they should be warm still.’

The creature entered what was the kitchen of the small home. It was a cosy place, small, and a little cluttered, the open windows let in fresh air from the beautiful summer day outside. In the winter, they would be tight shut and it would be warm and even cosier.

Naava was leaning over the hot pot above the fire, she straightened and faced the room behind her as the creature and Ivana entered.

‘Hello Greyface, how are you?’

‘Fine’ Ivana said, answering on behalf of the creature.

Naava smiled at the animal, ‘would you like some cakes?’

She bowed to the beast and took from the table one of the many wrapped bundles, the white cloth inside held one of the cakes.

‘We made a few bigger for you.’ Naava said.

She took the cake from its cloth and placed it on the floor before the creature. Greyface lowered his head to eat, the two women sat at the table. Naava smiled at the animal.

‘It’s good.’

‘I’m glad you like it’ Ivana replied.

‘He likes it?’ Naava questioned

‘Yes’ Ivana smiled.

Greyface licked up the last of the crumbs and raised his head.

‘He wants more’ Ivana laughed.

‘Of course,’ Naava rose from her seat and gave him another two pieces. ‘There’s nothing better than one who has a good appetite.’

Greyface began to eat; halfway through the second cake the creature spoke.

‘Ivana, have you seen Sitka?’

‘No?’ she replied, ‘I thought he was playing with his sisters.’

‘He has wandered off again, I am certain he is getting himself in trouble yet again.’

‘Oh’ Ivana frowned.

‘Is everything alright?’ Naava asked

Ivana turned to her, ‘yes, he says his son is missing again. Greyface thinks Sitka is getting into trouble.’ She scratched the back her head grinning, ‘I hate to say it but he’s probably right.’

A low and quiet thunder rumbled through the building from outside, Naava and Ivana froze, listening, as the noise grew louder. It sounded like hooves.

Greyface lifted his head from the floor and growled.

‘Sitka.’

Greyface stood and headed to the doorway, behind him the two women followed.

Upon the hill, directioned on the right side of the home upon exiting, was a fairly steep slope. The steep path led to the pastures where the horses grazed on fenced land. They had broken loose and the heard was charging down the hill in a panic. The mass of brown horses thundered through the village, kicking up a storm of dust into the air. From the doorway, Greyface, Naava and Ivana watched in shock and surprise, the three white sisters on the opposite bank too had stopped their games. The heard passed by, tearing through the village.

Moments later, the dust began to settle. Several more moments later, and the chickens and geese which had run for cover ventured out again, and it became peaceful once more as the horses continued to run on. But down the hill one more creature moved, fresh white in colour, still juvenile he had not yet matured into his adult coat. Coming to a stop in the centre of the wide village path he stood, barking happily at the horses as they fled.

‘Sitka!’

Greyface leapt down the wooden flight of stairs and in an instant was upon the white creature. Growling and snarling, the white beast crouched down low and showed his belly.

‘Why can’t you be more like your sisters?!’ Greyface snarled.

Sitka lay on his back, feet curled and tail tucked between his legs, he didn’t say anything.

‘I grow tired of your games’ Greyface warned his son. ‘My patience with you wears thin.’

Still the young beasts didn’t answer, but cowered under his father’s glare. He remained submissive.

Greyface backed away and turned, wandering off. Ivana ran forwards, ‘Sitka, are you alright? You're not hurt, are you?’

The beast rolled onto his feet, standing straight now and shaking the dust from his coat.

‘Hurt? Please, it would take more than a heard of brainless herbivores to hurt me.’

‘What did you do?’ Ivana asked him.

‘I didn’t do anything; they’re the ones that broke the fence.’

‘Were you chasing them?’

‘Maybe.’

Ivana sighed, straightening up and placing her hands on her hips.

‘Why don’t you go play with your sisters?’

‘Pfffffffffff.’

‘Well go find something else to do that won’t cause any trouble. In fact, why don’t you come inside? That way we can keep an eye on you.’

Sitka stared back blankly at her, then ran away disobediently, back up the hill and out of sight. His three sisters stood in a row, watching him silently as he made his departure.

‘He always was a free spirit’ Greyface sighed from behind Ivana, ‘even as a pup. Oh, his poor mother.’

That night, Sitkah ran away from the village to explore. He knew it was forbidden, his father always spoke of the dangers of the world outside their peaceful little village, but Sitkah couldn’t resist. The call of the night was reaching out to him, teasing his with her mysteries and secrets. There was so much to explore in the big wide world outside, and Sitkah longed to run free. To cross the world for miles and see all there was to see, to be truly free.

As his kind should be. As was his right.

‘You can’t keep me within these small boundaries father’ Sitkah growled to himself as he stood at the edge of the village. ‘I am not like the brainless cattle that lie dormant in the fields. No ambition. No sense of adventure. I am a Detauk. I want to run, to soar, to see everything there is to see. Know everything there is to know.’

His eyes narrowed, as he spied the dark woods before him.

‘Just try to stop me father’ he said quickly, before bounding forwards.

The earth beneath his feet felt wonderful as he ran. To a human, the night would have seemed cold, but to a Detauk, it was perfect. His thundering footsteps ate up the miles as he travelled, moving swiftly with all the endurance and stamina well known of his kind. He came at last to a clearing, and slowed to a stop at the edge of a small village, panting heavily.

Sitkah swung his head from left to right, his great muzzle drooling and his gums showing.

Sitkah spied the village before him, all manner of mischievousness dancing through his mind.

He slunk forwards, passing between the small wooden homes with their straw roofs. He found a coop of chickens, behind a feebly built fence. Sitkah wagged his tail excitedly, digging a small hole and crawling beneath the fence. He descended upon the small coop within the centre of the fenced area. The ground had been picked and scratched bare by the beast’s little beaks. Sitkah padded across the open space and chewed the rope that tied the door shut. His teeth were strong, and the task took only seconds. He threw the door back and crept through the tiny hole with surprising flexibility.

The poor doomed creature within the coop never stood a chance, half of them were dead within minutes, the other half scattered in their panic, causing enough disruption to rouse the people of the village with their cries.

Within the small homes, lights were coming on, and as Sitkah barked in excitement, the little village began to stir further, slowly waking.

People were coming out of their homes, lighting torches as they searched for the cause of the disturbance.

Sitkah killed the last chicken and escaped through the hole back out of the fenced paddock, just as the hounds were about to catch him. There were two of them, tall and slender beasts with arched noses and long narrow heads. One of them reached forwards just as Sitkah leapt, the hound’s jaws snapped shut, tearing the flesh at Sitkah’s heel. But he did not stop running; these beasts were bred to course wolves and were more than capable of killing a juvenile beast like Sitkah. They were deadly in their speed and agility, hunting in pairs.

Sitkah ran, his pure white fur standing out like a beacon in the darkness of the night, a clear signal for his hunters to follow. After a short time, Sitkah had easily lost the men of the village that chased him, but the hounds still followed.

Sitkah was finally able to lose the hounds by crossing a ravine, leaping impossible jumps to precarious ledges, which the hounds were unable to follow, which was well enough. Any longer and the hounds would surely have caught him, and if they had, Sitkah would not know if he could protect himself against them.

He turned, panting even heavier now as the hounds slunk back and forth on the edge of the ravine, desperate to reach him though not knowing how.

Sitkah smirked back at them, feeling supreme. He wagged his tail, sweeping the ground, the wound at his heel was staining his white fur, but he did not care. Sitkah trotted onwards through the night, and to places unknown.

He reached the edge of the woods, beyond with were the open plains. And here, he saw something that he did not expect.

A great army was marching.

Sitkah padded slowly forwards, wondering what was happening. Why were all these men here? Where were they going, and who were they fighting for?

Sitkah’s ears twitched as the soldier’s heavy footfalls thudded on the earth as they marched in time with each other. Horses bearing soldiers dressed in finer garments than the soldiers around them, tossed their heads as they walked forwards, carrying their masters. Even the horses wore armour.

One of them passed near to where Sitkah stood. He shrank back, hiding behind a tree in the shadows. Sitkah watched nervously as the horse walked by, seeing the long sharp spear that the rider carried.

Suddenly he heard movement in the forest behind him, another soldier mounted on horseback, a scout that was returning to the army.

Sitkah swung around, crouching in the shadows and baring his teeth nervously, but remaining utterly silent. The soldier lifted a weapon, pointing it at the creature as he suddenly spotted him. He fired the crossbow, but Sitkah managed to jump to the side just in time. The arrow missed its target.

Sitkah ran past the mounted soldier, disappearing into the night before the soldier managed to reload his weapon.

It took Sitkah the rest of that night to retrace his steps, so far he had travelled. And by the time he reached the borders of the tiny village he called his home; the sun was just peering over the horizon.

‘Sitkah!’ his sister cried upon sight of him. ‘Where in heavens have you been?’

Sitkah smirked at his sisters as they stood before him. Rain, Rune and Kasha were their names. The four of them together with their identical juvenile white coats were indistinguishable from one another; only by smell could they be known individually.

Sitkah raised his head to his sister Rain who had spoken.

‘I've been away’ he told, ‘exploring the world and seeing her beauties.’

Kasha sniffed the air. ‘I smell blood’ she said.

‘Blood?’ Rune exclaimed. ‘Poor brother, you’ve hurt yourself.’

‘It’s nothing really’ Sitkah said trying to shrug them off. ‘I was in no real danger.’

The three young sisters all ran to their brother’s heel, licking his wound, cleaning away the dry blood and healing him.

Sitkah looked up then and saw sitting at the top of a short flight of steps, before the entrance to one of the homes, Greyface. His father looked very displeased.

‘You left the boundaries of the village.’

Sitkah slunk down, tail tucking between his legs and ears falling back submissively.

Greyface sniffed the air.

‘I smell borzoi on you.’

Sitkah curled into a small ball.

‘I have told you that you are not allowed to leave this village until you are old enough’ Greyface went on glaring at his son.

‘But father’ Sitkah whined. ‘When will I be old enough?’

‘When your coat changes to its adult colours’ Greyface told him clearly. ‘When your powers come to you. When you are able to truly protect yourself.’

‘But when will that be?’ Sitkah complained.

‘I don’t know’ Greyface replied. ‘It’s different for everyone. But soon.’

‘Well not soon enough.’

‘A bird doesn’t fly until it’s ready’ Greyface told his son. ‘What if you’d been killed?’

‘Then I would be dead.’

A silence passed. Then Greyface’s lip curled in a slow growl.

Sitkah crouched into a smaller ball, rolling around on his back pathetically.

Greyface relaxed his body, backing away and shaking his head.

‘Sitkah’ he sighed. ‘Think of how it would break my heart if you died. And what of your sisters? They love you. How do you think they would feel if you were killed?’

Sitkah averted his eyes guiltily, not responding, not meeting his father’s gaze.

‘Go now and rest’ his father told him. ‘You look exhausted, and so you should be.’

Greyface turned and padded away, freeing Sitkah at last from his scrutiny. Sitkah fled at the first opportunity to a safe distance, rejoining his sisters who licked his face lovingly.

Later that morning, he slept. As Sitkah slept, his sisters played.

Greyface watched his children from the crest of a small hill on the edge of the village. He was proud of them, and grateful for every one of them. Even Sitkah.

He had raised all the children on his own after their mother had abandoned them, once they were old enough to be aware of the world, as was normal for their species. She must have travelled far since that time, as Greyface had not seen nor heard from her since. He would miss her sometimes and feel sad that she was gone. On some days, he would wonder where she was; and he if she would think of him. As he thought of her.

He watched now as his daughters played, while Sitkah, exhausted from his nights adventures, slept deeply and peacefully, twitching every so often as he dreamt.

Each of his four children were all very different. His son, the trouble maker, would often wander off on his own, away from the sisters he loved. Frustrated by the confines of the tiny village he was born in, he longed for the outside world, sometimes even disobeying his father’s command and leaving the village. He was bold, with the heart of a dragon. Greyface was sure his character would mature into power, dignity and kindness.

His sisters, Greyface’s children, would spend most of their time together in each other’s company, something that hadn’t changed since they were very young. But their characters were worlds apart.

His first daughter, Rain, was the one who loved nature and all things around her. Sometimes, she would ‘dance’ with the butterflies, chasing them and jumping after them, snapping at the air in excitement but being very careful not to catch or harm them in any way. One day, Greyface had told her off for barking incessantly. She had replied to him.

‘I bark because I'm happy, I love the world and see beauty in everything around me.’

His second daughter, Rune, was the philosopher, the truth seeker. She would question everything around her and want everything she didn’t have. Her dreams were large, and she would often reminisce of past lives she believed she had once lived. She believed in one she was a salmon, swimming through the rivers, in another, an albatross, charting the wide-open seas. And in another, she was a tiny ladybird, living in a small world within a much larger one.

His third daughter, Kasha, last and oldest daughter was the guardian of the group, the protector. She would watch over her siblings, and act as their shield, first to rise to a fight, and the last to back down. She had the most level head out of all of them and would despise war and suffering. Her dream in life was to one day make a difference in the world.

Greyface thought of his children, and what their futures might hold. They were maturing now, and it wouldn’t be long before they lost their white juvenile coats, giving way to their adult colours.

Like every cub, Greyface had been born white, but in time he had grown into a large grey beast. Now in his age, his face was flecked with grey, and he had become far slower than he used to be. Nowadays, he spent most of his time sleeping, or caring for his children. He was old now, and they would be the last litter he would have, and so he tried to make the most of his short time with them. Before they matured and left him.

Greyface wondered how those final days would feel, and what his new children would look like. It wouldn’t be long now.

Sitkah slept nearly the entire day, only waking when the sky began to darken.

He opened his eyes, stretching and yawing widely, tongue curled and ears folded back. He shook himself briskly to help wake himself up, looking up to see a gentle shade of orange painted across the sky.

The first thing he did when he woke; was to find the stray dog that had been adopted by the village some years ago. For a short time, they played together, the two had formed a strong bond over the years; even though the mongrel was a stupid creature in comparison to Sitkah’s kind. It wasn’t long before Sitkah got into trouble again. He had been clocked over the head by a very angry old woman for digging in a vegetable patch. He quickly fled, ignoring the old woman as she called furiously after him. The mongrel had also run away and vanished. The commotion and noise however attracted the attention of Sitkah’s three sisters.

His sisters, seeing that he was awake ran over to him. They began fussing, licking his face and wagging their tails energetically.

‘You're awake! They cried. ‘At last.’

‘Sisters’ Sitkah said to them remembering. ‘I have to tell you of something I saw last night, something strange.’

And so, he proceeded to tell them of the army he had seen, marching across the land.

His sisters were concerned by this, all insisting that it was best to tell their father. But Sitkah managed to dissuade them, telling them that he didn’t want to get into any more trouble, and to act as if nothing had happened.

They listened to him, because they loved him, and Sitkah thanked them for their silence.

It was many evenings later, that there was a great festival