Three Moons

The Wolves and the Wild Man

A chorus of growls responded to Lile's cries. They were all around her, not wolves, but humans, the Basamortans. Hunched over or crouched like cats ready to pounce. They had bright, wild eyes and sharp, monstrous fangs and they growled and snarled at her like a pack of wild dogs encountering a stray.

Sorne, the sombre, gentle physician was crouched low, arms stretched out, chest almost touching the ground. She bared her teeth and stared Lile down. Her face was distorted, caught between that of a human and an animal. The woman who had bathed her, tended to her wounds and reassured her, had become a demon before her eyes.

Lile screamed again and struggled against her bonds, but they refused to give way, keeping her fastened to the post. Prince Asier, the wolf, approached slowly, like a predator stalking its prey, egged on by its fiendish companions. It circled her, its leer never faltering, its growls never ceasing. Lile's body stiffened. The back of her head pressed against the post. This ominous anchor was now the only thing she understood, the only thing that had not changed at the close of the day.

There was nothing she could do. She couldn't hope for a painless end, but she did hope for a quick one. Just do it, she willed the wolf. Hot tears rolled down her face as she broke into soft sobs. Her body trembled so violently is hurt. How was any of this real?

The wolf had almost circled her entirely, coming around from behind until it stood shoulder to shoulder with her. Its growl grew louder as it opened its jaws, ready for the kill. Lile whimpered and closed her eyes. She arched her neck, exposing her throat. There was no point hiding. She just wanted it to end. Hot breath tickled the skin of her jugular. It was any moment now.

A loud bang carried by a violent, hot wind blustered through the camp. Clap, crash, crackle. Screams erupted as a bright light pierced the lids of Lile's eyes. She opened them and saw fire, everywhere. The tents were alight with yellow, orange and red. It had appeared impossibly fast. A mountain of flame, breaching the earth, seeking the sky, devouring the havens of humans. Just like that, the cool night had become a kiln.

Lile buried her head in her knees, sheltering her face from the already blistering heat. The wolf was gone, the Basamortans were scattering, running, stumbling, rolling, howling.

Someone put their hand on her shoulder, startling her out of her huddled position. Sorne was beside her, completely human once again, though her eyes, bright in the light of the fire, were wide and wild still.

"I'm untying you!" she shouted before disappearing from view. Lile squirmed frantically as she felt the binds pull and loosen. Sorne had barely undone the knots when Lile threw herself forward and began crawling away as fast as her aching body would allow.

"Get away!" Lile screamed without even looking back to see if she was being pursued. She clung to the grass beneath her and scrambled toward the dark. She didn't know where she was going, she only knew that darkness meant safety. Darkness meant no fire.

She had made it only a few feet when strong arms grabbed her from behind.

"Get up!" Haizea yelled pulling her to her feet. Lile began hitting the woman in feeble desperation. "Don't fight me now," Haizea growled. "We have to get away from-"

Haizea buckled over with a heavy grunt. As she collapsed to the ground, her hand let go of Lile who lost her balance and toppled backwards. She was caught by the front of her shirt and pulled up to meet a wild-looking Basamortan she didn't recognise. He was covered in dirt and sweat, with long tangled hair and beard. The bright light of the fire behind him revealed him as a silhouette, obscuring the details of his face. In his hand, he held a wooden pole and it occurred to Lile that he had used it to bludger Haizea. He dropped it and grabbed Lile by the shoulders with both hands. She screamed and tried to push him off.

"If you want to escape them you must come with me," he yelled over the noise of the fires and the fleeing Basamortans. Before any decision could be made on Lile's part, he picked her up in his arms and ran with her back through the fires that had now engulfed several tents. Lile squealed like a piglet as they narrowly missed the flames that reached for them. Never before had Lile seen a fire so great or heard one so loud. It roared in her ears, burned in her throat, and blistered her skin. It wasn't enough to stay out of reach of the flames, the heat alone would kill them both if they did not clear the area.

They burst through a window in the wall of fire, stumbled past some withstanding tents and fell into the cool respite of the forest. The man's back was alight with flames. He dropped Lile abruptly to rid himself of his shirt before he was consumed. Lile rolled over once, twice and stopped under a tree at the edge of the clearing facing the tent village within which the fire raged. The evening was cool once more but the light of the fire cast a hellish orange hue across the stark white trunks of the bone trees. From within the roar of the fire, the Basamortans were calling to each other, but what they said, Lile couldn't tell.

She was picked up again by the now shirtless man who gave no indication that he recognised her as a fellow human. He said nothing to her as he carried her into the forest where the sounds of panic and destruction were quickly smothered by the eerie quiet of the woods. It had been almost two days since Lile had heard the songs of the trees. She wasn't surprised at their silence now though. Like humans, the trees slept at night.

The man started running again, though unpursued by the Basamortans who had other things to worry about. He knew where he was going. Aided only by the moonlight he never lost his footing and seemingly never lost his way. It was not a comfortable ride for Lile who was jolted up and down between thick arms with every hurried step. She was somewhat grateful though for their fast pace as the wind rushing against them blew away the strong smell of his unwashed body.

Fortunately for her back, they came to a halt not long after they began and she was let down. She stepped away from him, aware now of just how unclean he was, and tried to speak. She wanted to at least ask his name, though why he was saving her was the real burning question. He leapt toward her and grabbed her face in his rough, calloused hand, muffling her.

"They'll hear you," he whispered in her ear. She held her breath as he breathed over her face. She did not need to discover what his breath smelt like.

He released her, freeing her mouth, but she remained quiet. She was too afraid and ignorant to doubt him. This man knew about the wolf prince and his demonic horde and for some reason, he wanted to save her from them. Though she knew nothing of him, though he looked and smelt like bush dwelling vagabond, she would take help from anyone. All she wanted was to escape.

"On my back," he instructed quietly.

Lile had to stop herself from recoiling. He was just so dirty. Both her feet and stomach hated her for it, but she forced herself to comply. She secured herself to his bare, unwashed back by wrapping her arms around his neck. He took her by the legs. Though the physical contact ought to make her feel shy, she was too nauseated by the sour odour of days old sweat to see anything sensual in it.

They continued running through the night. Lile was aware of how loudly the man crashed through the forest. If the Basamortan's could hear a voice from a distance then they could certainly hear the footfall. She clung onto him and willed him onward. Save me, she begged the unlikely hero silently. And then prayed the same to the Lady of the Forest, mouthing the words but making no sound, Save us.

The ride remained rough, but she was far more comfortable on his back than in his arms. Despite the grim predicament she was in, the potential life or death nature of their journey, the one thought that consumed her mind was how to hold on and not fall without choking the man. Her grip constant changed from tight to loose depending on the turbulence. But if she was making his journey uncomfortable, he didn't complain and neither did she.

It was not long before she heard the sound of running water and then saw a river ahead. It was wide and the waters looked deep. She had been made to cross a river the day before, but if it were the same river, it was much more vast here. There would be no wading through it to the other side. Regardless, the man walked straight for it. With Lile still on his back, he entered the water, not once losing his footing on the river stones, until the waters reached his waist and her hips.

The water was flowing ice. Lile shivered violently and clung to him more tightly. He broke her hold from around his neck and pulled her off his back. She began thrashing as she hit the water. She couldn't swim. He quickly quietened her with a gentle 'ssshhh,' holding her tightly to his side as he pulled her deeper into the water.

"Hold on to me." He murmured in her ear. She did so by wrapping her left arm around the back of his waist, and they began drifting steadily down the river. Despite the man's shabby appearance, he was strong. His powerful legs and arms guided them along and she had nothing to do but hold on.

This was their escape. As the river carried them away it dawned on her that they were fleeing not men, but wolves. Wolves who would hunt by scent, a scent that was now lost to the waters. Lile's heart began to race not with fear but with the thrill of seeing success. They might actually make it. They could ride the current right out of Gael Forest. It made the tightness in her chest, the pain in her feet, the deep shiver in her bones worth it, as long as the river didn't kill her before it saved her.

The night around them remained still. Lile's weak eyes constantly searched the shores around them, trying to perceive from the dark signs of humans or animals amongst the trees. But there was nothing other than the occasional flap of an owl hunting in the night. The wild man's eyes remained focused on the river. He never said a word to her or gave any indication that he was anxious about their situation. He just swam and as they continued down the river, completely undisturbed, Lile became more and more sure that they had escaped her captors entirely.

But riding the river out of the forest was not the plan. After they had travelled some distance and Lile could barely move, for her limbs were so stiff with cold, the man began swimming slowly to the river bank on the other side. He pulled them diagonally across the river so that they continued to move with it until they reached the shore.

Here the stones were rough and jagged and Lile was relieved that she was carried ashore rather than made to walk. He took her across the shoreline to the softer, grassy grounds of the forest. Here he put her down so that she stood on her own numb feet.

Not wanting to speak, Lile tried to communicate her confusion in her expression and limited, shivering movements. Despite the dark, he saw her.

"Waterfall," he murmured, pointing down the river. Really? Lile wondered. She had never seen a waterfall before but if she understood correctly, falling down one could mean injury or death.

The man took her hand and began leading her back into the forest. Here the trees stood further apart and there were large grassy breaks lit up by the light of the full moon.

As her body thawed in the night air, the feeling in Lile's feet returned. They had taken only a few steps together when she whimpered involuntarily and recoiled as sharp pains ran up her feet. They felt more raw and painful now than they had before the river venture.

The man looked at her bewildered. In reply, she looked down at her feet. His eyes followed hers. He dropped to the ground and growled deeply as he beheld the bandages which were now soaked, dirty and torn from their escape. Lile gasped and backed away only to trip over an elevated root. This man was one of them. Of course, he was. A Basamortan running wild through Gael Forest? He had to be one of them. Some rogue soldier gone astray perhaps, but a monster nonetheless.

The wild man approached cautiously and crouched down beside her as she continued dragging herself away on her backside.

"Frightening, aren't I?" he said quietly, "But I'm not going to hurt you. He held up his hands, the universal symbol of peace. "They will though. If they find you they'll kill you. I can't carry you anymore, we have to move lightly and with you on my back, I can't do that. Can you walk on these?" He touched Lile's feet gently. Walking would be painful, but Lile wasn't getting in the way of her own survival. Her wounds were clean and thoroughly bandaged by Sorne. Her feet would survive one night's walk. They had to. When she was out, when she had escaped, she could rest as long as she needed to.

Lile nodded, "Yes," she said firmly. He was foreign, mysterious, and monstrous, but she had no choice but to trust him. At least for now.

Echoing her, the man nodded once. "Good. Push through it. That's how you survive. Come on." He helped her to her feet. They stung sharply but Lile would not be weak.

Progress was slow after that. As often as they could they walked out in the open under the light of the full moon. It seemed an odd strategy to Lile, who would have thought it safer to walk in the shadows, but it was clear that absolute silence was paramount to the wild man and after spending some time thinking about it, Lile realised that high visibility was needed to avoid the branches and roots that could c***k under their feet or trip them up.

Lile held onto the man's arm and watched her feet the entire time. She was acutely aware of every rustle of grass or reed brushing past her leg. Every twang or crackle of a breaking branch. Every buzz or coo of a startled insect or bird. In the silence of the forest, these sounds boomed. She had no perspective regarding the hearing of these human-wolf hybrids but from the care that the wild man took to hide their scent and move as quietly as humanly possible, she could only assume that their pursuers had formidable senses.

Though the wellbeing of her feet came second to preserving her own life, moving slowly suited her. Every step was as gentle and kind to her soles as she could make it. They moved at this sluggish pace for a long time.

She wanted to ask her guide how far they had to go. She contemplated it again and again but knew it was best not to speak. Knowing would make no difference to her journey and would perhaps only dishearten her if she were to learn that the journey was long yet.

Instead, she examined the man from time to time. He had the ragged appearance of a hermit yet the body of a soldier. He was unclean but with a well-built body, and firm, straight posture, he was clearly not unhealthy. He was broad-shouldered and muscular and would likely have quite the commanding presence if he was not so dishevelled and noxious. Not quite the beast that Jokin was, but also not slender like the prince, and certainly not as well-groomed. Lile imagined he had grown up far from any palace riches. She was blind to any further details as the light of the moon was not bright enough to reveal them and the man's long and tangled hair obscured the details of his face.

"Lile," a voice spoke to her from the silence in her own language. "Lile, where are you going?"

Lile froze. She knew that voice. The wild man stopped walking as she held him back. Between the hair on his head and the hair on his face, his expression creased with concern.

"Lile, where are you going?" the echoing voice, like wind blowing through a tunnel, asked.

"Gren," she whispered in shock. She felt the wild man's hands tighten around hers. He was surveying the trees around them keenly.

"Lile, I'm sorry, but you can't do this," Gren said sternly.

"What?" Lile asked in Deargish.

The wild man cursed, grabbed her and threw her over her shoulders with such force the air was knocked out of her. She gasped but quickly shut her mouth trying to remain quiet as instructed. He, however, seemed to have lost all caution. He ran, with her flopping heavily, awkwardly like a sack of vegetables, over his shoulder. Lile was completely bewildered, but she knew something had spooked him, and she could only assume that they were coming.

A great shadow burst out of the trees and hit the wild man in the side. He was thrown off his feet and Lile tumbled out of his arms. Her body crashed to the ground shoulder first. Her head scraped past a root nicking her ear. But the discomfort of the impact was nothing compared to what followed. She felt the piercing pain of the bite before she saw the perpetrator. There was a moment of shock and confusion and then Lile screamed as she realised that her arm was held in the penetrating grip of a large, grey wolf.

The wolf began to drag her, away from the tree under which she had fallen. Lile thrashed against it, screaming and hitting it again and again on the nose. It let her go.

She hastily rolled over and began scrambling on her belly. She tried to find her feet, to get up and run, but was thrust back to the ground as large claws tore through the skin on her back. Another wolf sunk its teeth into her shoulder and tore through its flesh. She screamed jagged, broken screams. She was in agony. She was grabbed by the foot and dragged again along the forest floor out into the open as wolves continued to pounce on her. She felt the bones in her ribs and pelvis c***k under their weight. There were around four, five, six of them now. They fell on her over and over, monsters the size of ponies, breaking her body, baying and whining as they proceeded to eat her alive.

She was losing all awareness, blind by fear and pain. At some point, between the gnashing, the snarling, the screaming and the gasping, she was thrown onto her back. She saw them, their vicious blood-thirsty faces, what she had always known wolves to be, monsters.

"That's enough!" a voice yelled hoarsely. The wild man. "Finish this!"

They quietened on his command and backed away, leaving her lying there in shock and agony beneath the white moon. All she felt was pain. Searing, torturous pain. All she saw was the moon. Every breath triggered a sharp sting in her side as tears flowed down her face uninhibited. And there was the moon, bright, cool, beautiful, enduring. And the face of a single wolf, large, brown, bristling at the hackles, growling through his teeth, Prince Asier.

He stepped over her and stared his furious eyes into hers. There was an understanding between them, between the wolf and the girl, that this was the end. With a loud snarl that demanded her surrender, he opened his jaws wide and clamped down on her throat piercing through the skin and muscle, into her esophagus. She had no time to make a sound before, with a single swift action, he tore her throat open.

Blood ran everywhere. She was choking on it, was drowning in it. She couldn't breathe. Her mouth tried to take in air but the gaping hole in her neck made it impossible. This was the fatal blow. The wolf backed out of her view and the face of another beast appeared, no not a beast, a man, the wild man. His face was cut open and blood dripped off his cheek onto hers. He breathed heavily and trembled as he touched her face. He turned her head so that she looked past him at the moon again. That lovely, enchanting moon.

"Your soul," said the wild man "goes to the Moon Goddess who sees all and knows all. May she accept you into her arms and grant you the spirit of a wolf to teach and empower you, guide and protect you. May you come back to the ones who found you and become one with the pack as the pack is one with the moon."

The last thing Lile felt was not the pain that ravaged her, but a gentle kiss that graced her forehead.

"Go little one," he whispered, "and come back to us."

She looked at the moon. And then everything was no more. The Deargish girl had died.