Chapter 3 - Whispers (Part 1)Mature


            We have a story that we tell all our young pups.  It has no name, but it is a story of two of our gods, and we hold it as the sacred truth, because what else could it be?  Sometimes when I have time to think, I’ll reflect on the old stories, for the Gods and Goddesses are our idols, and to me especially.  This particular story, though, reminds me of me and Focus. I’m not quite sure how, but it just does.  It is the story of Safra, the night goddess of our pack, and Whiplash, the god of Battle.

            Safra was a gorgeous black furred she-wolf.  She had blue sparks lining and tracing patterns in her fur, these blue specks were the stars, and she had endless love for her former pack.  Whiplash was, as you could say, the exact opposite.  He had an all white coat with scorch marks, drawing darks signs of hatred and bloodlust along his fur.  His appearance in all was torn, rugged, and scarred from his past, and from his job to cause all possible havoc.  Fire would blaze behind his eyes, and the scorch marks on his fur would light in a wondrous frenzy of flames and sparks.  And it was said his personality was just the same.

            The legend said that Safra was roaming one of the spirit lands, Sadness of Trill to be exact, when she saw Whiplash and another female spirit wolf.  Safra and Whiplash were mates in the god world, along with their daughter Ivy (Goddess of growth and healing).  Safra became jealous at the female spirit, and mad at Whiplash.  She then left the scene.  The next morning, Safra confronted Whiplash; and they fought.

            Neither god won the fight, but a huge hatred boiled between the two wolves for moons. Safra, enraged one night, devised a plan.  Safra framed Whiplash for stealing from the head god, Trill, the Goddess of the sun.  When the Council of Gods met to determine his punishment, they chose to send him back to the pack, as a regular wolf.  Essentially his punishment was to live another life.  And his angered mistress went out of her way to make sure it was a horrid one at that.

            Yet, there was one thing that Safra never considered when she devised her plan.  Whiplash fell in love.  He didn’t even fall in love with a wolf, it was a blind husky named Sita.  When Safra saw this, she didn’t interfere; maybe she replaced her relationship with Sita and Whiplash’s, or maybe she decided to for give her mate, it’s too complicated to explain really.  Unexpectedly, Sita became pregnant with a pup, a male pup. Safra finally took action.  During Sita’s birthing, it was at night when Safra had the most power, she killed Sita; or at least let her die.  Whiplash didn’t know what to do.  Eventually he decided to take his son to the pack.

            The pup looked enough like a wolf that it fooled the Alpha Darksong and her mate Darksilence.  The pup was welcomed into the pack as a full wolf would have been.  The story never said who the pup was, for he was given to a mother with four other pups, all males.  And eventually, everyone forgot where he came from.  The only thing we know about that wolf, is that he may still be alive in my pack today.  Darksong was my mother’s mother.  The legend also never said that shortly after, Whiplash was killed at night, being struck by a fallen tree.  The story never said that Safra apologized to her mate, and that they are now both Gods again.  The story never said if the pup would ever meet his father.

            When I think about it, I find that it is similar to me and my brother because of three reasons. One, I hate him.  I hate him to hell and back. Two, I will eventually give him the worst of all punishments; and Three, I’m jealous of him.  And like my beloved Safra, I will get my revenge, but I will never, ever forgive him.

◊◊◊       ◊◊◊

            So get this.  The howls I heard last night were the coyotes.

            The morning fizzed around me pleasantly, the dry air held a promise of heat of later today.  No rain.  I picked up my pace and strutted ahead of Ocean, our darling little guide.  The funny thing was that she was my half sister, the result from an affair between my mother and some random rouge a few seasons before my birth.  She was deemed unworthy as an alpha at her birth, and eventually both of her brothers were killed before the litter was three moons old.

            She snarled behind me and I smirked and let my paws carry me to the Ebony River, where I at least knew where we would be heading eventually.  The ground underneath me had lost the soggy wetness from the rain last night.  A sudden slope began to drift over the forest floor.  It elevated me just enough that I have vision enough through the trees that I could see the morning light reflection off of the currently slow-paced river.

            I laughed triumphantly, and slowed to a stop.  Or, I attempted to while my paws skidded over a wet spot of the forest floor.  When I finally decelerated, I looked at the muddy puddle judgmentally.  Why was it still here?  I sniffed it, and the plain old smell of mud greeted me enthusiastically.  I rolled my eyes.  It rained last night, of course there is water and mud on the ground.  Sometimes, I thought even I could be an idiot.  But that was few and far between.

            In the distance I heard the low barks and growls of my obviously bickering patrol.  At least I never was as much as an idiot as they were starting to become, except for Silhouette of course.  He was like me, strong, smart, and hard to the core.  He and I had principles of conduct that some wolves just didn’t understand.  That sucks major for them.  I was thinking of going back to them to try and aggravate someone into getting the others to shut up, when I stupidly looked at my reflection.

            Alright, so maybe it wasn’t very accurate.  It was early morning; I was bored and annoyed, probably paranoid from last night, and the puddle was muddy and a dark murky brown color.  So why did I freak out when I saw a slender faced, light red wolf staring back at me?  My eyes narrowed with disbelief, and as I blinked, the image was gone.  As if it was never there, but I know knew that I wasn’t alone in this forest.

            I snarled. I’m not sure if it was out of anger or of fear but I knew I was mad.  My claw slapped against the mud, sending it splattering all over me.  I snarled, furious, and looked at the destroyed muddy puddle. There was nothing but water and the forest floor.

            The other must have caught up, because I heard a taunting remark from Silhouette rise in the air.  “Hey look- Agony as been chasing imaginary fish again.  Looks like this one won, ha-ha.”  I jumped slightly with the surprise and turned to look at him.  The gray wolf was trotting up the ridge that I had overcome some time ago.  By his left was Ocean, Heather right behind her, and at the back was Trout and Fear murmuring close to each other.  Think I left someone out?  I did.  Ivory was standing on Silhouette’s right side and she laughed along with him, until she saw me.  She froze and glared back at me with obvious distaste.  Damn good mistake for her.  I might yet have to teach her another lesson.

            So as it would have been, my lips curled back slightly.  “I was only trying to disguise my scent.” I spat, thinking fast as to hide my embarrassment.  I felt mud dribble off my chin, it flowed slowly and sticky, like the blood of my enemies, the blood of my brothers and sisters. Ocean was obviously annoyed with the delays by now.  She rolled her eyes and stomped over to me.

            “Let us go already.” She sighed and began to follow the path ahead of.  The rest of the party continued, Fear taking to my ‘idea’ of coating themselves in mud.  It made the young black wolf look inexplicitably disguised.  Fear’s coating was sparatic and non-patterned, making it look like a natural design, one that made him blend well with the coyotes.  Too bad his fear scent wasn’t disguised and ounce.  I sat there fuming as I watched everyone in my party continue on behind the scout.  The only one who thought to lag behind and stop to look at me was Silhouette.

            “What’s on your mind?’ he growled as he stopped in front of me.  I cursed silently, he just knew me too damned well.  By the time I replied to him, the others were out of earshot.

            “Nothing, what’s it to you hot-shot?” I snapped back.  I was in no mood to be nice today.  I jerked my gaze from his and began to follow everyone else, lifting my muzzle to scent the air by instinct.

            He growled and intercepted me.  His eyes narrowed into slight slits with his obvious disbelief in me.  “Agony, quit acting like a bitch.  I’m your friend, and I know something is wrong.  So spill it before I give your little ploy away.  Now again I’ll ask you; what is on your mind?”  How the hell did he do that?  He controlled his anger, speaking in a quiet and controlled demeanor. Even the tenseness of his body was controlled. Showing relaxation in the muscles, but the erectness of the tail and ears silently told me he was not joking.

            I growled and glared at him, giving in to my friend.  How pathetic of me.  “The fur in my reflection was red.  Happy now?”  I jerked my gaze from his and sprinted away before he could respond doubtfully, as I knew he would.  No one understands, no one can understand.

The End

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