Wolves of the new dawn

Not so much a wasteland

*Freesia*

The first rays of dawn creep through the branches above, casting dappled shadows on the ground. I blink my eyes open, the warmth of the fire now a mere memory, replaced by the chill of morning air. I stretch, feeling the stiffness in my muscles, remnants of yesterday's journey clinging to me like a shroud. I am not used to sleeping on the ground and I feel that clearly.

Beside me, Raylee stirs, the gentle rise and fall of her breath a comforting presence. I glance over at Torren, who lies protectively wrapped around her, his expression serene in sleep.

There’s something undeniably beautiful in the way he holds her, a fierce protector in the night. But as the sunlight filters through the trees, I feel the urgency of our mission pressing down on me.

“Hey, Torren,” I whisper, leaning over, nudging him gently… I had not expected him to sleep so deeply. “It’s time to get moving.”

He stirs, blinking his eyes open as confusion clouds his features for a moment. Then, recognition washes over him, and he slowly releases Raylee from his embrace. I can see the wolf in him waking, the shift in his demeanor subtle but palpable.

“Wow… I usually sleep much lighter,” he mumbles, confirming my thoughts.

Raylee yawns and stretches, her hair a wild halo around her head. “Morning,” she murmurs, her eyes still heavy with sleep.

“Morning,” I reply, offering her a smile. “We should pack up and get going before the sun gets too high.”

With a nod, the three of us begin gathering our things and folding the blankets. I feel a rush of determination coursing through me. We’re not just wandering aimlessly; we’re on our way to freedom, a new life.

I have to admit that the wastelands are not what I expected… I thought it would be like en endless nothingness, but it is more of a forest.

The World around us hums with life as we make our way through the underbrush, the sounds of chirping birds and rustling leaves filling the air. The world feels alive, vibrant, and yet, a sense of foreboding lingers in the back of my mind. I can’t shake the feeling that danger lurks just beyond the trees.

“Look,” Raylee points ahead, her voice a mix of excitement and trepidation. “Maybe we Can take a break and get some lunch.”

I follow her gaze and see a small clearing up ahead. Our steps quicken as we approach, the promise of open space appealing after the confines of the forest. But as we step into the clearing, my heart drops at the sight before us.

Four humanoid creatures, gaunt and grotesque, hunch over a freshly killed deer. Their skin is mottled and grey, eyes sunken deep in their skulls. They tear into the flesh with a ravenousness that turns my stomach.

“Torren…” I whisper, my voice barely audible.

“Stay back!” Torren barks, his voice deep and commanding

He’s already shifting, his body morphing into the sleek, powerful form of a wolf, fur bristling as he stalks forward. I can feel the tension in the air, the primal energy radiating from him as he prepares to protect us.

The creatures notice him, their heads snapping up in unison, mouths dripping with blood and sinew. A guttural growl escapes from one of them, and I see the glint of something sharp in its hand… a crude weapon fashioned from bone or stone.

Without hesitation, he lunges, a blur of fur and muscle. The creatures swarm toward him, but they’re no match for his speed and agility. I watch in awe as he takes them down one by one, his powerful jaws snapping shut around a throat, a clawed paw raking across a chest.

But then, one of the creatures manages to land a hit, a jagged blade slicing across Torren’s side. He lets out a pained growl, and my heart sinks as I see the blood pooling on the ground.

“Torren!” Raylee shouts, panic surging through me, as she lounges forward. I grab her, holding her back.

As the last creature falls, I let my sister go and rush forward, my hands trembling as I kneel beside Torren, now back in human form. He’s breathing heavily, and I can see the wound on his side… deep and raw.

“Stay still,” I urge, my voice steady despite the fear gnawing at my insides. Raylee is there too, holding his hand fuzzing over him.

I rummage through my pack, pulling out a first-aid kit. I wet a cloth in antiseptic liquid and press it against the wound, and to my shock, I watch as his body begins to heal before my eyes.

The flesh knits itself together, the blood slowing to a mere trickle, and I can’t help but gasp. “Torren, how is this…?”

He looks at me, his eyes still fierce but softening. “I’m a werewolf, Freesia. I heal quickly,” he explains, his voice a low rumble, like some of the wolf still lingers.

I nod, relief flooding my veins, but I can’t shake the horror of what just happened. “We need to keep moving. I don’t want to run into more of them.”

“Agreed,” he says, pushing himself up onto his feet, the healing almost complete. He looks down at the remnants of the deer, his instincts battling with the humanity within him. “We can’t linger here.”

With a final glance at the fallen creatures I nod. The wound is still there, but it’s less severe now, the healing powers of his kind working wonders. I help him cover it to give it peace to close completely.

Raylee is holding his hand, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and awe. “You… you took them down so quickly,” she stammers, looking between Torren and me.

“We need to focus,” I say, determination setting my jaw. “Let’s keep moving through the wasteland. We can’t afford to stay in one place too long.”

As we press onward, I can’t shake the feeling that the world is shifting beneath our feet. I am equally curious and scared for what will happen when we reach the pack.