Moonlit vow

15.Attack of a rogue werewolf

Winter days always seemed particularly long. The howling wind, the snow blanketing the forests and mountains, cast the world into an eerie stillness. Yet, within the snow-covered cave, there was an air of activity and growth. Over time, Yuli had diligently studied and could now accurately identify the various herbs Iris had collected. She had become familiar with the uses of each—whether for soothing pain or combating cold and fever—and her handling of them was precise and orderly. Occasionally, when tribespeople came seeking remedies for colds or minor ailments, Iris entrusted Yuli with preparing the herbal mixtures. Her progress filled Iris with pride and satisfaction.

One day, sunlight pierced through the thick clouds, spilling onto the snow and creating a dazzling glow. Iris peeked out from the cave's entrance, delighting in the rare clear weather. She turned toward Leiand, pleading playfully, "Can I come with you when you patrol the forest today? I’m going stir-crazy stuck in here!" She even added a pitiful expression for good measure.

Leiand glanced at her, frowning slightly in thought. Though the cold outside was still biting, he eventually relented, reminding her with a stern tone, "Stay close and don’t wander off."

Following behind Leiand, Iris carried some ropes in her hands. Her goal for the day was to set up traps in the forest, hoping to catch animals that ventured out to forage during the harsh winter.

"This spot looks good for a trap," Iris said, pointing at a patch of ground marked with animal tracks.

Leiand examined the prints carefully, his tone lowering as he remarked, "These are wild boar tracks. It might still be nearby; these are fresh."

At the mention of a wild boar, Iris felt a surge of nervousness. She knew how dangerous wild boars could be in the winter—their hunger making them especially aggressive and ferocious. Suppressing her unease, she followed Leiand’s lead, carefully setting up the trap near the tracks.

Just as they were finishing, a low growl and the sound of crunching snow reached their ears.

Leiand’s posture stiffened, his expression alert as he turned toward the sound. In a quiet but firm voice, he instructed Iris, "Hide behind that tree and don’t come out, no matter what!"

Iris had barely taken cover behind a large tree trunk when a massive wild boar burst through the underbrush. It must have been startled by the trap setup. The boar’s red eyes and gleaming tusks radiated menace, its bristling hair standing upright in rage. Driven by hunger and primal instinct, it charged directly toward them.

Leiand stood his ground, his gaze cold and unwavering. Suddenly, his body began to transform. His tall, lean frame grew broader and more muscular, and pristine white fur swiftly covered him. In an instant, a massive white wolf stood where Leiand had been moments before.

The transformed Leiand let out a low, resonant growl, a sound that sent chills through the air. He crouched slightly, muscles coiling in preparation as he fixed his icy blue eyes on the approaching boar. Then, with a powerful leap, he launched himself forward.

The boar bellowed in rage, swinging its tusks in a desperate attempt to counterattack. Snow flew everywhere as the two beasts collided.

Leiand skillfully evaded the boar’s frontal assault, his sharp claws slicing a deep gash into its flank. The boar howled in pain, retaliating with a powerful charge. Leiand narrowly dodged again, his movements agile and precise.

Hiding behind the tree, Iris watched with bated breath, her palms slick with sweat. She regretted not bringing a bow and arrow, knowing she could only watch helplessly and pray Leiand would come out unscathed.

The battle raged for what felt like an eternity, but Leiand’s superior speed and strength gradually gave him the upper hand. Seizing an opportunity, he lunged at the boar from the side, sinking his teeth into its neck. Using all his strength, he pinned the boar to the snowy ground. The boar thrashed in a futile attempt to escape, its life ebbing away as blood poured from its wounds. Finally, it lay still.

Leiand released his grip, panting heavily as he stood over the lifeless boar. His white fur was streaked with blood, but his ice-blue eyes remained calm. He turned to Iris, motioning for her to come out of hiding.

Iris hurried over, glancing at the massive boar before rushing to Leiand’s side, her concern evident as she inspected him for injuries.

Leiand nuzzled her hand gently before reverting to his human form. He looked pale but reassured her, "I’m fine, just a few scratches. I’m used to it." His tone was nonchalant, but Iris’s heart ached as she noticed a deep gash on his shoulder.

"We need to move quickly and take the boar back before the blood scent attracts other predators," Leiand said, wasting no time.

Iris nodded in agreement. Together, they secured the boar with ropes and hauled it back to the cave.

Back at the cave, they worked on processing the boar, sharing portions with the tribe and keeping a leg for themselves—a bounty sufficient to last for several meals.

Later, Iris brewed herbal water to clean Leiand’s wounds and applied a salve she had prepared. Leiand sat quietly by the fire, watching her with a faint smile as she tended to him with utmost care.

The aroma of roasting boar meat filled the cave. On winter nights, the fire alone couldn’t entirely banish the biting cold. Leiand often transformed into his wolf form, lying beside Iris like a living, heated blanket. Wrapped in his soft, warm fur, Iris snuggled closer and drifted into peaceful slumber, her dreams filled with the day’s harrowing yet fulfilling adventure.

These days, Iris thought about the traps she had set in the forest every day, hoping for some results. However, several days passed, and none of the traps had caught any animals, leaving her feeling increasingly dejected.

One day, a few rays of sunlight broke through the thick clouds. Leiand returned from outside, carrying a dead deer on his shoulder. He placed the deer on the snow at the cave’s entrance and walked inside, where he saw Iris sitting by the fire, lost in thought, her face tinged with disappointment. Leiand's deep voice broke the silence: “Your trap worked!”

Iris froze for a moment, then snapped out of it. Seeing the deer outside the cave, her eyes lit up. “Really? This deer was caught by one of my traps?”

Leiand nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Yes, the trap worked quite well. But next time, make sure to mark them properly to prevent anyone from the tribe from stepping into them by accident.”

Hearing the news, Iris’s dejection vanished in an instant, and she jumped to her feet, beaming with excitement. She hurried over to the deer, examining it closely and exclaiming, “I can’t believe it actually worked! I was so worried the traps were useless these past few days. Looks like I should set up more!”

Leiand nodded slightly. “That’s a good idea. I’ll take you to find new spots when the weather is good.”

The two got to work processing the deer. Leiand handled the skinning while Iris cleaned the meat beside him. Warm air rose from the fire, driving away a bit of the winter chill. As they were preparing dinner, a long, low wolf howl suddenly echoed outside, cutting through the quiet night.

Iris paused her work and looked up at Leiand. “That was… a wolf howl? What’s going on?”

Leiand’s expression turned serious. He listened intently for a moment and sniffed the air before speaking in a low voice. “It’s coming from the outskirts of the tribe. Looks like we have uninvited guests.”

Just as he finished speaking, hurried footsteps sounded outside the cave, followed by the urgent shouts of a tribesman: “Stray werewolves! Stray werewolves are at the edge of the tribe!”

Leiand’s face darkened. “It seems trouble has arrived. Stay here in the cave and don’t go anywhere,” he instructed before rushing outside.

Iris had a bad feeling about this. Grabbing a bow and arrow nearby, she quietly followed behind him toward the tribal outpost.

When they arrived, the scene before them was chilling. A group of emaciated stray werewolves was attempting to breach the tribe’s defenses. Their eyes burned with hunger and desperation, clearly driven to recklessness by the scarcity of food in the harsh winter. The wolf king stood at the forefront with the tribe members, holding the line. The atmosphere was tense.

The leader of the strays, Simon, wore a sinister expression and spoke arrogantly. “Hand over your food, and we’ll retreat into the forest!”

“That’s our food. You’ll never take it!” the wolf king growled, his voice as cold and sharp as the winter wind.

No sooner had he spoken than the two sides clashed. Though ferocious, the stray werewolves were weakened by long-term starvation, their frail bodies no match for the tribe’s well-trained and robust warriors.

Additionally, the defensive trenches lined with wooden spikes proved highly effective, incapacitating many of the intruders.

For a moment, it seemed the battle was entirely in the tribe’s favor. However, as the wolf king led his warriors to gain the upper hand, Simon suddenly shouted, “We surrender! We surrender! Stop fighting—I demand to speak with your wolf king!”

The wolf king frowned at the unexpected call, raising a hand to signal his warriors to halt. He strode toward Simon with disdain, his eyes brimming with pride. “Do you think surrender alone will spare your life?”

Simon feigned submission with a deceitful smile, raising his hands as if to admit defeat. The moment the wolf king let his guard down, Simon drew a dagger from his waist and struck with lightning speed, stabbing the wolf king in the chest.

Caught off guard, the wolf king collapsed to the ground with a heavy thud, blood staining the snow crimson. The tribe members roared in fury at the sight.

Among the crowd stood Kahar, his gaze fixed on the wolf king—his father, a figure he had revered as immovable as a mountain. Now, that mighty figure lay lifeless, blood pouring from his chest and spreading across the snow.

The wolf king stared directly at Kahar. His eyes held no anger, only deep disappointment and sorrow, as if they saw through every facade Kahar had built. That gaze felt like a dagger plunging into Kahar’s heart. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but no sound emerged from his throat. His hands trembled slightly.