The Running of the Wolves.

[Finlandia]

The Running of the Wolves:
Being a tale of Wolfenholm forest.

‘Of all the fearsome magical beasts that roam the land, none is more fearsome and less trustworthy than the direwolf. Huge and vicious, these hulking canines should be given a wider berth than any other beast, except perhaps a nesting gryphon. Never will these beasts be a friend of man.’

So wrote Thergil, magical scholar and creature expert. He was a wise and venerable man, but here follows a legend still passed on to this day, which illustrates how even the wisest cannot see all ends…

Elanor Silverfoot was a child of the fields, but her heart lay in the thick forests that bordered and trammelled her home. Dense and bewildering though these woods were, they were less of an obstacle to Elanor than her parents. Born to a woodcutter father and a mother who had once been a fearsome huntress, she grew up in a tiny village which had a hatred of the wild world. Her early life is of little note; indeed she would’ve perhaps grown into a nondescript country woman, had not raiders thought to terrorize her village.

One day, when Elanor was still a young girl, she went, as she was wont, to the very edges of Wolfenholm forest, picking flowers. In her heart, she had always cherished a burning, secret adoration of the wild woods, and would go as deep into them as her iron cast family would allow. Singing softly to herself as she wandered beneath the eaves, she was unaware of a pair of red eyes watching her from the shadows of the oaks. Soon, the sun began to wane, and Elanor meandered back to her village. Her mind elsewhere, she smelt not the acrid smoke, and her ears caught no screams. She came upon the village, and saw the raiders in a blast of reality that shattered her childlike daydreams. The bodies of her parents, and her friends, were piled in the centre of the village. Her baby sister was impaled on a large spear, and left for the crows. Burning anger in her heart, and chilling fear in her mind, she ran and swore an oath of tears. She vowed to return.

Elanor ran to the only place she felt safe. The branches of the trees stretched out to her, the arms of an old, mysterious and none too gentle friend. Fear, this time, made her deaf to the sounds that followed her from the village: human footsteps. She had been seen. The man followed her into the shaded forest, black thoughts in his heart.

He didn’t pass the second line of trees. Elanor span round as she heard his scream, and saw a huge, dark pelted shape leap towards the marauding raider, ripping and tearing. Then its red eyes turned to her. Even if she had wanted too, she could not flee. The rest of the pack had her surrounded. She breathed one word, as the pack leader approached her.
‘Direwolves’

The pack leader smiled wolfishly. The little girl before him, miraculously, smiled back, and blinked slowly at him. He licked her forehead, gently, and his mate murmured,
“Sorrow runs with this one”
Elanor gasped, eyes widening. “You can talk! And, you’re not evil, a-a-are you?”
The pack leader gave a coughing bark, and replied, “Only as appearances dictate. Would you look upon me and call me good, little TwoLeg? We look stronger and fiercer than man, so he would slay us for daring to be ourselves. And we are not dragons; our cubs die easily upon TwoLegs’ spears.”
“So you hide in here?”
“It is better. What man cannot see, he cannot kill. And in the darkness, he grows more afraid of the beast in the wilds. The woods are safe in sunlight and in moonlight.”
Then the lead female of the pack trotted forwards, and told a tale of human raiders, slaughtering wolves on the wide plains, torturing and killing without provocation. Heedless, needless death, it was a tale similar to the nightmare Elanor had fled from.
“It seems,” she said, “that the victims always have to run away. You should not have to hide, and neither should I. The bullies should be the ones to suffer, and you should run on the plains whenever you want to, under the sun or the moon!”
At this, the pack smiled as one. They took the little girl, orphaned by men as many of their own had been, and raised her as a hunter of the wild woods, and a child of the moon. And day by day, they plotted their revenge.

Ten years passed; a decade in which the raiders sat like cuckoo birds in the remains of the village, catching women to work for them like a spider does flies. No patrol was ever sent to remove them. In that decade also, the Wolfenholm pack grew stronger, and the arrogance of the raiders fanned their hatred. Then, and on one moonlit night, the pack swept from the woods like a tide of shadows and Elanor ran with them. The raiders had grown fat and lazy, and their watch was lax. Now it was they who did not hear the pounding feet that chased them. They fell, swiftly and painfully, throats torn. Thus revenge was gained for the lost lives of the villagers.

Elanor left her pack, and wandered the world with one direwolf companion, teaching the magi and other direwolf packs how to get along. It was hard work and neither race completely trusted the other. The wolves never forgot the old hatreds, and many remained savage towards TwoLegs. However the seeds of friendship were sown in the hearts of some, who gave their eggs and pups to pure hearted, worthy magi. The wild forests became a little safer for the innocent, and much more dangerous for those of evil heart. For the direwolves smell darkness of the soul, and they are swift to punish.

Her work as accomplished as it could be, Elanor went back to the dark woods of Wolfenholm now an old woman, and ran with the pack that had raised her. Thus were the words of Thergil turned on their heads. Elanor’s green grave may yet lie in the shadowed forest, for all those brave and pure enough to seek it. In that part of the world, to this day, tales are told of a wild direwolf pack that roams the fields freely, but only by moonlight…


((my last, i think.))

[nightbug08]

Ooh very nice! I have just one problem how long is the time period between her being adopted by the wolves and the pack taking revenge for the village? Wouldn't the raiders have moved on?

[Finlandia]

Ah, is that not clear?
They killed the residents and took the village for themselves. I'll make an edit, to make it clearer.

[draikfire]

Nice one, Fin. ^-^ I luffeth wolves~

....I`ve been reading through all the legends, and mine seems to be the only depressive one, appraently. o.0

....Whoah.

Anyways, good work with characterization, and nice descriptions! Hey, are you an Eragon and/or a Warriors fan? I thought I saw a bit of each here~ The way the baby was killed reminded me of Yazuac in Eragon, and TwoLegs from Warriors~ or am I hallucinating again?

[Finlandia]

Nice one, Fin. ^-^ I luffeth wolves~

....I`ve been reading through all the legends, and mine seems to be the only depressive one, appraently. o.0

....Whoah.

Anyways, good work with characterization, and nice descriptions! Hey, are you an Eragon and/or a Warriors fan? I thought I saw a bit of each here~ The way the baby was killed reminded me of Yazuac in Eragon, and TwoLegs from Warriors~ or am I hallucinating again?

One of mine is sad!
The Wanderer and the Whitestone.

No, TwoLegs is a contorted Tamora Pierce reference.
But I am an Eragon fan, and Yazuac is the one bit that struck me the most as really expressing the horrors of war. Its a reference i turn to whenever i write anything like that. Not necessarily directly but for inspiration, you know?

[helsinkivampiress]

Oh I love wolves It reminds me a little of Wolf's Rain, with the wolves being able to communicate with humans and having to hide away from them