Chapter 4: Blood In The Wind

Wolves had an incredible sense of smell. This was a well known fact that pretty much everyone was familiar with. It was one of the first things you learned about wolves. Though sometimes, it was difficult for animals to fully grasp how significant their advantage was. Other animals had a keen sense of smell too of course. Cats, pigs, rats, even goats and deer to a lesser degree. All of them could track with their nose. But wolves… A wolf could catch a scent from miles away, and track a scent trail that was months old. They could effortlessly pick out subtle complexities in smell that few others would even be able to register.

Hawl could enter a room and within seconds have a near perfect understanding of who had been through it and when. That was normal to him. It was honestly hard for him to picture what life would be like without this ability, and it was hard to imagine how the other animals managed to cope without it.

The small hunting party had taken turns sniffing the jars to get acquainted with their target's scent. The jars were practically empty, with only the slightest hints of old blood or fur settled on the bottom. But even that was more than enough. Hawl inhaled rapidly with his nose pressed to the ground. Particles of dirt went up his nose but he just as quickly blew them out. The scent of rabbit was everywhere. A myriad of criss crossing lines, some of which were fresh while others dated all the way back to the last rain. He had to systematically sift through all of them, looking for a scent trail that matched the very specific one he was looking for.

“I think…” Mauor sniffed then grinned. “Yeah. I think I got it!”

Hawl stopped beside Mauor and sniffed. Unlike vision, you couldn't exactly point at a smell. So he had to do all of the mental untangling work himself before he found what they were looking for. “That's the trail alright.” He waited for Wouf and Reea to catch the scent themselves. Then they all went over the plan one final time before they split up and started moving in for the kill.

This was it… the final moments leading up to the blood shed.

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Sierra pressed her belly into the mud. She dared not breathe for fear that the rabbits would hear her. The Lensway bandits were hopping around a fire less than forty feet from the bush she was hiding under. Most of them were sleeping in their makeshift burrow. But others were lazing about and keeping an eye out for trouble. She could tell that they were engaged in some kind of discussion. But she couldn't hear a word from this distance. Rabbits tended to be really soft spoken in general, but they were being extra quiet right now because they didn't want to wake up their comrades.

The little goat shuddered with fear. But she knew she couldn't just stay in hiding here. She had planned to wait until they had all fallen asleep before moving in and trying to free the hostages. But they had a rotating guard detail watching over the wooden cage they were being held in. She wasn't a hero or fighter of any kind. How was she supposed to help?

Her friend, Madam Rosary, had told her to hold back and wait while she took on the bandits. She had been so confident in her abilities. But then the rabbits threatened the children! Why did they even have a cage of children in the first place!? Whatever, it didn't matter now.

Madam Rosary negotiated with them. Gave them her mask in exchange for them releasing the hostages. She was tricked! As soon as she gave up her mask, something unseen jumped her and she got tied up. Once she was out of commission the fluffy little monsters went back on their word and chased down the kits they released.

As all this happened, Sierra just watched. She was powerless to do anything about it. They had sent a pair of rabbits ahead of the rest of the group with the instructions to take Madam Rosary away. Sierra should have tried to follow them. But she kept expecting her friend to find a way out on her own. So by the time she realized that the bandits had truly won, her window for chasing after them had already passed.

No matter. She was sure her friend could escape eventually. So she decided that the best course of action was to take the initiative and find a way to free the hostages. Otherwise, Madam Rosary would have surrendered for nothing. All she had to do was sneak past about four rabbits, steal the key to the lock, and then sneak away with a bunch of emotionally distraught children. Sure rabbits had some of the best ears of any animal. But they were also distracted with their conversation. It could work. Maybe… Possibly… What Sierra really needed was a distraction. Some kind of loud sound or emergency that could draw their attention away and give her the opportunity to move up and-

A sound pierced the air. Distant and tense. A long, drawn out, ghostly note of music. It reminded Sierra of the wind, though the cause of the sound was unmistakable.

“Wolves!” one of the rabbits gasped in alarm. A look of terror and panic on his face. A second rabbit pushed a third over and screamed. “Get Le’bo’my! NOW!” The fourth hopped back and forth in a panic. She looked terrified as she stuttered. “W-W-What do we do? Who has the Telling? Pe’tur? O-Or was it Pe’win? Oh snakes! We're all gonna die!”

All heads turned as a second howl answered the first. The haunting sound came from the opposite direction.

“They've got us surrounded...” The first rabbit hissed. Before he realized that his companions were already scrambling down into the burrow.

This was it! Sierra realized. This was her last chance! She leapt up from her hiding spot under the bush and started not so gracefully running full tilt at the one rabbit who was still above ground.

The rabbit saw her running at him with her little nubby horns down, and he shrieked. He was fast, so he managed to leap out of the way in time. Yet he was also startled, and Sierra felt her skull hit something soft. She hit his paw on the way out. Causing him to land with a limp.

“You're not a wolf!” The rabbit blurted out as if it was an accusation. Some part of him seemed to relax at the thought of it being a trick. But then a third and a fourth howl answered the first two.

Sierra tried her darndest to look intimidating, but it was hard since she was pretty small for a goat. Though she was still solidly bigger than the rabbit purely because of the species difference. “Paw over the keys or I’ll…” She tried to think of a threat. But her brain struggled to think of something that applied the pressure she needed without being too mean. Honestly… She probably should have thought of what she would do first before jumping in. But oh well, she was here now so she just had to roll with the first idea that popped into her head. “Paw over the keys or I'll knock your lights out and feed you to the wolves!”, she lied.

The rabbit poised himself to hop away, but froze when he saw Sierra tense up in preparation to chase him. “Who even are you?” The rabbit demanded.

The distant sounds of howling were growing closer.

“I… I am an informant for the wolven empire. And if you want to live then you had better do what I say and give me the key to that cage.” She declared with an air of self importance. It was a big fat lie of course, but it scared the rabbit.

The rabbit swallowed hard, and Sierra smiled smugly as he retrieved a small iron key from the bag slung around his shoulders. She couldn't believe that actually worked! She might actually be able to pull this-

A stern gruff voice suddenly cracked the air. She wasn't overly loud for a rabbit, but her words were practically dripping with authority. “Give that key away and I'll chew your ears off myself.”

The rabbit with the key flinched but looked back at his leader with hope. “Le’bo’my! We're under attack, what do we do? Do we retreat, hide?”

Sierra sighed. So much for that… Out of options, she ran at full charge. Not at the rabbit, but at the cage itself. Her skull smacked hard against the wooden bars, but her horns were tiny and the cage was a lot sturdier than it looked.

The trio inside were huddled together. Two blue feathered fledglings were misty eyed as they wrapped their scrungly wings around each other. But it was the adorable little turtle kid which spoke up. “Get outta here miss! The wolves will save us.”

Sierra turned around and gave the bars a good kick, which made her hooves tingle. But again, it was too sturdy. “Whatever animal made this cage really knew what they were doing.” She commented dryly before her brain finally registered what was said to her. “Oh! What? Wolves? You think the wolves are here to save-”

Sierra was interrupted by the sound of something metal hitting a tree behind her. She blinked. And then realized that someone had thrown a knife at her and missed. “Oh snakes! Oh crumbs! Oh fiddlesticks.” She ducked around the cage for cover. Much to the protest of the little turtle boy who didn't like being stuck in the middle.

Le’bo’my growled with annoyance at the random goat for refusing to die when it would have been so convenient for her. At any other point of time she would have started personally hunting her down as a matter of pride. But luckily for Sierra, the leader of the Lensway bandits was a bit preoccupied with the occasional howling getting closer and closer. “Alright chaps. It's time to leave, but let's do it right. We all knew this might happen, so don't panic. We've taken precautions for this scenario. Ja, Ed’win, Le’bo’che, Rip. Get the crowbars and spill the rothweed.” Le’bo’my commanded. She was in full damage control mode. Trying to quell the panic those damn howls were inflicting upon her crew so that they could actually deal with the threat.

A sharp overpowering smell erupted through the camp as four strategically placed barrels were opened up and then tipped over onto the grass. Le’bo’my smirked. “That should confuse them. Now everyone, grab something valuable from the hoard and pick a direction to run in. I don't want any of us hopping shoulder to shoulder. We need to scatter to keep 'em off our tails. Anyone who survives that isn't put off of this life can reconvene with me and the others at rendezvous location six!”

Sierra chanced peeking around the corner as she tried to pick up on any clues as to what rendezvous location six was. Rabbits were pouring out of the burrow they had dug and one of them saw her and pointed in her direction. “What about the goat and the kits? We can't just leave them can we?”

Le’bo’my scoffed. “Why not? There are plenty of other younglings out there. It will be easier to nab more than it will be to fight over these ones.”

Sierra was about to hide again. But then the leader of the rabbits took a familiar red mask from a passing rabbit. She held up the delicate silk cloth and smiled as she admired the embroidered roses which framed it. “What we should be focusing on is this. So long as we can get both that idiotic rat and this mask to our benefactor then everything else will be worth it.”

The other rabbit seemed skeptical. “You sure? That's a long road for just one prisoner. Unless you plan on picking up more on our way to the kingdom of antlers-”

Le’bo’my hit the other rabbit in the head with the flat of a knife she seemingly pulled from nowhere. Then she shushed them incredibly harshly. “What are you doing!? Shut your face while short ears are listening.” Her eyes flicked to where Sierra was hiding. Then she shook her head. “Ugh. We'll deal with it later. We need to go!”. She tightened her bag against her hip and bound a good few feet in a single hop. She could have kept that momentum and vanished into the underbrush in no time at all. But something made her stop and turn back. “Wait a hair. Who’s got the telling right now?!”

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Hawl was moving quickly as he sprinted through the thicket, avoiding the more dense sections of growth that might hamper his speed as he went. His jaws were tense and his teeth were ready to be bared at a moment's notice. This was one of the hardest parts of the hunt for him. Not the running, or the pack tactics, or even the danger. It was this moment right before the violence, where you had to mentally prepare to do what had to be done.

Predatory instincts didn't work the same way that prey instincts did. The prey instinct was instantaneous. It could force an animal into an altered state of mind so quickly that it was disorienting. But once the danger or perceived danger was addressed, the compulsion would fade almost as quickly. The predatory instinct was different. It was a slow, creeping thing. A building tension that was easy to spot and back out of. There was a momentum to it. It was almost like falling asleep. Only instead of falling unconscious, you would slip into this highly alert alternative mental state that most predators referred to as the Thrill of the hunt.

An animal who was in the thrill could push themselves farther than they otherwise would, all physical discomfort seemed to fade away or become numb, perception would sharpen at the cost of becoming significantly more narrow, and any hesitation or personal inhibitions just stopped happening. Hawl always had trouble reaching that state. Not because it was hard or needed training. The thrill came naturally after all. All he had to do was let it happen.

But…

Hawl just hated being in that state. He hated the way the thrill could silence that little voice in his head which told him to stop and think. He was appalled by how… easy it was to sink his teeth into another creature as they begged him to stop. But as much as he hated it. He knew that he needed to give in to that feeling. Because if he didn't let the thrill of the hunt rob him of his empathy, then he would not be able to mentally survive his job.

Hawl's nose twitched and he nearly hesitated as he caught something on the wind. An incredibly powerful herbal scent washed over the forest. It seemed as if the rabbits were trying to mask their scent so that they could escape capture. The wolf puffed air out through his nose in annoyance. And then without missing a beat, he continued to track the subtle hits of rabbit mixed in with the scent of bitter spice.

It was a good plan, built on solid logic. Wolves were famous for their highly sensitive noses. So why not turn that sensitivity against them? The problem was that the bandits were relying on an incomplete understanding of what it meant to have a good sense of smell. Sure, wolves did have highly sensitive noses. And big loud smells like that were distracting. But there was so much more to having a good sense of smell than just a high sensitivity. A large portion of perception came from the ability to process the information that was collected. Which was why wolves were so good at finding subtle trails and following them. If wolves kept their sensitivity but had the same scent processing abilities as say… a bird, then they would be fairly useless at tracking things. All they would ever be able to detect would be the strongest smell. Which would be dirt in most cases.

Hawl adjusted his course to the left to intercept a rabbit he couldn't see yet.

Wind direction was far more important when it came to tracking by scent. The wind carried smells. If the wind favored him, then Hawl could detect the location of a target from far beyond the horizon. But if the wind was against him, then that range could be limited to only a few feet. He was lucky enough to have favorable winds this time. Though that meant that Mauor had to deal with being up-wind since she was approaching from the opposite side. That was partly why they made their approach from multiple different angles. To hedge their bets against the wind.

The obscured scent of rabbit grew stronger until Hawl was close enough to hear them running through the underbrush. He bared his teeth and snapped at the air in front of him with a growl. The rabbit he was aiming for freaked out and turned back the way he came. Part of Hawl itched to chase him down, but he could smell other rabbits trying to slip past him. So he broke away and moved to intercept his next target. He howled to coordinate with his pack as the four of them worked to herd the bandits in towards the center. If any rabbits tried to break past him then he wouldn’t hesitate to grab them by the neck with his teeth before moving on. Thankfully it didn't come to that.

Yet…

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Le’bo’my’tesh’mree’say was rapidly losing control of the situation. Every turn she made was intercepted by snarling wolves who somehow knew where she was despite the rothweed in the air. What more could she do to hide her scent? Did she need to roll around in the stuff for it to work? If they just stuck to the plan and rushed all at once then all but four of them would be able to escape. The problem was that it would be the first four rabbits who acted that would end up getting caught. No one wanted to be the sacrifice and would pull back. Giving more ground to the hunters. Soon, the whole gang ended up right back where they started. Only now they were out of breath.

“Boss.”, Ja asked nervously, “What's the plan?”

“I'm working on it!” Le’bo’my snapped.

“Where's our telling?” Ja asked before lowering her voice to such a soft whisper that only her leader could hear her. “Did Pe’tur use it to leave us here to die?”

Le’bo’my didn't answer. She just grit her bucked teeth as four huge imposing shapes slowly appeared from the surrounding woods. Damn it. They were so intimidating! She really had to fight against her gut instincts to keep her head in the game. It felt unfair, but she was used to having the deck stacked against her. “Eyes open gents.” She declared with cocky bravado. “They may be big. But we outnumber em’ thirty one to four. So don't despair, and keep your weapons ready.” She really thought that her example of strength did wonders for morale. But all of that reassurance was quickly swept away as one of the wolves shouted at them in a deep formal baritone.

“Lensway Bandits.” He addressed them all in an emotionless deadpan. “The burrows have marked you with a predation notice. Any individual who wishes to live may do so only by surrendering now. Lie down on your back with your belly facing up and your paws spread out. Do not speak and do not move from that position. This is your final warning. Failure to comply will result in death by predation.”

Le’bo’my blinked, then laughed with genuine surprise. Her voice quickly turned to amused suspicion as she called back. “Wolves offering to give up a meal if we play nice? I don't buy it. Sounds like a dirty canine trick to me.”

The wolf tisked with irritation. Which made Le’bo’my feel more confident that the offer for surrender was a ploy. “We have you surrounded.” The wolf pointed out as if anyone had missed that fact. “Your idiom demands that you give up.”

“Ignorant canine!” Le’bo’my spat with venomous indignation. She was more offended than she thought she would be. “You dare assume you know our idiom better than us? Our idiom tells us to quit while we are ahead.”. She made a show of gesturing around at her gang of terrified rabbits. “Does this really look like we are winning here? You've said it yourself, you have us surrounded and caught off guard.”. Le’bo’my very deliberately drew a knife from her satchel and settled into an action stance. She was ready to hop away or stab at any moment. “The correct way for us to follow our idiom would be to disband after gutting you and skinning the fur off your flesh. Isn't that right boys?”

A hearty cheer rose up from her gang, as her rabbits found the courage they needed to take on what was inevitably going to be a losing fight.

She wanted to see the frustration on the wolf's face. But infuriatingly, it looked like he was barely paying any attention to her daring show of defiance. He wasn't even looking at them! His head was turned to his left and he was sniffing the air intently. “I know you're there.” He said randomly. “And I will kill you if you take one step close-”

A scraggly brown rabbit materialized out of thin air with his paws up. Pe’tur squeaked in terror. Then his frightened eyes hardened into an expression of cold acceptance. “Ah well. So much for that then.”. The older rabbit threw his head back and inhaled. The wolf recognized what he was about to do and was already lunging at him. Sharp teeth dug into wiry brown fur. But before his throat was ripped out Pe’tur managed to shout a name.

“Le’bo’my!”

It was just a name. A word she had heard in various stages of abbreviation for her entire life. But it carried with it something else. An extra piece of meaning that couldn't be explained. Something clicked in Le’bo’my's head, as if she had just recalled something important. She looked down at her paws, and saw that her white fur and pink paw pads were a more muted color than they should be. To her she looked to be dirty with the same brown mulch as the ground below. But if viewed from a different angle she looked to be slightly tinted with the green pattern of the trees behind her. Then she looked up and saw the blood as Pe’tur’s body hung limply in the jaws of the coldly expressionless wolf. Her first gut reaction was horror and fear. But that instantly turned to grief and rage.

“Pe’tur you idiot!” she yelled instead of crying.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

The wolves were quickly realizing that the time for talk was over. But before the massacre could start properly, Le’bo’my called out a name and passed the Telling to someone else who hadn't already spent it. Che went wide eyed as her name was called, and then she promptly vanished. Le’bo’my started hopping at full speed towards the gray wolf with her friend’s body in its teeth. She was probably going to die today. Perhaps all of them were. But the least she could do was get her revenge on the way out.

They were thirty one against only four… and yet…

It still felt so unfair…

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Hawl had successfully eased himself into the thrill of the hunt. He knew this because he had no emotional reaction to the fact that he was holding a rabbit's limp body in his teeth. And this time it wasn't just his usual lack of expression either. He could feel the hot sticky blood trickling down his chin and a faint but rapid pulse against his teeth. Another animal was dying in his jaws and he honestly felt nothing but the rush of adrenaline pumping through his veins.

A white rabbit was lunging towards him with a series of zigzagging jumps. She was fast, and had murder in her eyes. Hawl's mind worked in overdrive to rapidly analyze the situation. It was just one rabbit against him so far. Hardly a fair fight just because of sheer size alone. But she had a weapon. A sharpened steel knife which went a long way to equalize his species advantage. He was still confident he could kill her, but she was just the first. There were a lot more rabbits in this gang than he was hoping for, and numbers always helped in a fight. Even though he was nearly guaranteed to win against the first attacker. He ran the risk of taking an injury that would slow him down and soften him up for the next animal.

Hawl had to win as quickly as possible if he wanted to avoid succumbing to a war of attrition. The safest thing for him to do would be to drop the animal in his mouth to free up his jaws as a defensive weapon against the charging rabbit. The only problem with that plan was… the rabbit he was holding was still alive. He was in unimaginable pain that paralyzed him, and he almost certainly was doomed to blood loss. So there was no tactical disadvantage to dropping him now and killing him later. And yet…

Hawl took a step back and to the side, trying to avoid the incoming weapon. But instead of preparing for the attack, he chose to shake his head violently. This inflicted significantly more damage, swiftly killing the dying rabbit and putting it out of its misery.

The Thrill prevented Hawl from feeling his remorse or empathy. But he was still aware of his moral convictions on an intellectual level. And among hunters it was considered taboo to leave death waiting. He couldn't hurt an animal and then leave it there to suffer. He had to finish the job as quickly as possible at all costs. In this case, part of that cost was giving the white rabbit the opening she needed to stab him in the shoulder and dig her sharp incisors into the side of his neck.

Hawl tossed the corpse with a growl, and then snapped at the rabbit which had bit him. But she was ready for him and narrowly dodged his attempt to bite back by kicking off of his dyed shoulder. Rabbit teeth weren't as deadly as his, but they still hurt. A little chunk of fur and flesh came with her as the rabbit bounced away. Hawl chased her for a few feet trying to grab her. But he couldn't compete with her raw sprinting speed. He could probably run her down if given enough time as wolves had more stamina. But he stopped because chasing her too far would allow others to escape.

Actually… no… It was becoming clear that the gang didn't plan on running at this point. If Hawl had kept chasing her then he would quickly be swarmed on all sides by angry rabbits. The gang was smart, and were accustomed to fighting as a team. If the hunters were careless then they could quickly find themselves getting overwhelmed by their prey. That was how hunters died.

Mauor and Reea were acting with a similar degree of caution. They ran to help keep themselves from getting surrounded, but they weren't going to let the rabbits get away either. All it took was a snap of the jaws, and they instantly killed any rabbit which got too close. After which they would have to retreat until they were ready to turn around and kill again. It was messy, chaotic, and frantic. The fight had only just started, and already six rabbits had been killed. But Hawl also heard Reea’s growling be momentarily replaced with a shriek of pain as a flanker stabbed her in the side. The wolves were bigger and scarier, but the rabbits outnumbered them and were armed with artificial weapons. For a moment, one could look at the chaos and wonder which side would win.

Until you saw Wouf…

Wouf was by far the largest animal in the fray. He was chasing a screaming rabbit with reckless abandon. He ran directly towards his prey and paid no mind to avoiding being surrounded. And yet, no one dared try to go after him. Something surrounded him. An intangible feeling so powerful that it pushed its way into the world. Forcefully and violently changing your perspective. On a logical level you could look at him and see a healthy wolf of a decent weight. But on an emotional level, your mind told you a completely different story.

Hawl could almost see thin skin stretched over emaciated bones. The very ground around him seemed to invoke the feeling of cold barren stone in mid winter. And his face… Wouf’s cheerful personality was completely absent. Instead… His face and mannerisms were consumed by just one thing. An intense, clawing, painful, desperation. A horrible, terrible, uncontrollable Hunger that devoured all thought and trampled over all reason. A dark memory harnessed as a weapon. His greatest trauma, captured, and returned to the world to give him strength. A manifestation of the idiom which defined his species.

His Telling.

Hawl had to look away. Even with the thrill of the hunt suppressing his empathy, he still hated seeing Wouf use his Telling. Besides, his attention was needed elsewhere.

Four rabbits charged Hawl at once and it was getting harder for him to keep running them in circles. The first one to reach him was unceremoniously killed with a devastating bite to the back. But that maneuver forced Hawl to break his stride and stand still. The second rabbit tried to take advantage of the opportunity and was caught in mid air. He squealed in pain as Hawl crushed his leg, but he didn't die instantly. So Hawl slammed him to the ground and dazed him for long enough to wrap his jaws around their head. A wet crunching sound silenced the screams. But by this point the third and fourth rabbits had finally broken through his guard. One sank a knife into his side and tried to drag it across his flank to gut him, but they weren't strong enough to do more than painfully pierce his fur. The second kicked him in the nose and assaulted his left ear with a flurry of punches of all things.

Hawl snapped at the rabbit who was punching him, but they narrowly escaped with just a few brown hairs missing. The one who stabbed him had abandoned the knife in his side and ran before Hawl could even try to respond. Less than a minute had passed since the fight began, and between the four of them, the wolves had already killed eleven rabbits. But they were still outnumbered five times over.

Reea whimpered in pain as a rabbit dodged her attack and cut her on the back of her leg in a failed attempt to sever a tendon. Mauor was surprisingly untouched as she skilfully positioned herself to avoid harm. Wouf was marked with new scratches and cuts, but it was like he couldn't even feel them while his Telling was active.

Hawl tried to pull the knife out, but the wound on his neck started gushing blood and hurting something fierce when he tried to reach for it. So he winced and decided he didn't have time. It could stay stuck in him until after the fight was over.

That white rabbit came back around and was running at him with a knife in her mouth. Hawl scrambled back and braced himself. But then she pivoted away when she saw he was ready for her. “Stop-!”, she called out to the two who were moving to flank with her. But they didn't catch it in time.

Hawl snapped one and killed her instantly, then spun to catch the second before he had a chance to-

In the frantic fraction of a second before impact, the rabbit who Hawl had been ready to kill suddenly vanished. It was only a moment of hesitation of wondering where they had gone before he felt something small and fluffy bash into him and then kick off with all the force they could muster. He realized what had happened too late, and snapped at where the rabbit had been. But all his teeth found was empty air.

Hawl could hear the white rabbit laughing at him. It was a manic, teasing laugh that was drenched in stress and tainted with just a hint of insanity. She looked at him with defiance, daring him to chase her even though she couldn't use that same trick. She had already used up that telling, so if he caught her then she wouldn't be able to use it to escape.

The gray wolf narrowed his eyes at her, but didn't break out into a run. Instead he sniffed something hidden amid the herbal haze, and turned to glare at the patch of nothing that was moving to attack him. It really was a rather powerful Telling. Perfect invisibility mixed with a complete silencing effect? That rabbit was running directly at him, but it didn't make so much as a patter. Even the dust beneath their paws seemed undisturbed by their passing. It was no wonder this group of bandits had been so successful.

Hawl could not see the rabbit skid to a halt. He could not hear the embarrassing little squeak of fear that they made. And yet… That rabbit stopped their attack because the wolf was looking directly at them.

It seemed as if that Telling did not cancel out smells after all.

Hawl took off after the rabbit with the Telling, his nose kept low down towards the ground. They ran and tried to zig and zag to throw him off. And that actually did help to slow him down a bit, yet the rabbit couldn't seem to get away entirely. The truth was, Hawl could only track where the rabbit had been. But he could follow the trajectory of the trail and make predictions as to where that path would lead to.

A faint echoing sound like far too distant paw taps let him know that his target was slowly burning through their time with the Telling. But he couldn't afford to simply wait it out. That Telling was a problem, even though his sense of smell could counter the most dangerous aspect of it. That trick where they’d pass it to someone and make them disappear at a critical moment was a huge distraction in battle. And split second reaction times were everything when animal's lives were on the line.

Hawl ran after his prey, panting as all four of his legs struck the ground in practiced sequence. The rabbit was fast, but their little body was made for short sprints. The longer this chase went on, the more distance the wolf closed.

The white rabbit was chasing after him, shouting obscenities and trying to get the wolf's attention. She could tell where this was headed. When it became clear that Hawl wasn’t going to break away from his target, she cupped her front paws in front of her snout and shouted. “You idiot! You should have ran for the burrow and passed the Telling!”

The invisible rabbit suddenly appeared with a terrified whimper as she looked back at her leader. “Okay! You take-”. She had changed her direction, trying to return towards the main area of the fight. But that little bit of distance was all Hawl needed to cut her off and grab her. She screamed for a second as Hawl gave her a death shake. Then there was a crunch and her body went limp.

Le’bo’my, the white rabbit, winced. “No you- ‘Should have.’ As in, past tense. You shouldn't have tried to pivot to the right move after committing to something else!”. She looked down at her paws, feeling guilty. Then she realized she was ever so slightly off white again and screamed. “Why does everyone keep passing me the Telling?! Am I the only Rabbit you know? I’ve already used it up!”. The leader of the bandits turned and looked over the battlefield. Only thirteen rabbits were still moving, including herself. So she cursed and then picked out a name. “Al! Your turn!”. Instantly her blood stained fur regained its original brightness, and Mauor was denied a kill.

Hawl hated hunting large groups of rabbits when Tellings were involved. For most other animals you could simply target the one with the Telling and take them out first. But rabbits just passed it on right before they died. So it was almost like the whole group had the Telling. They needed to get rid of it, and Hawl had a plan for how to do it. Rather than chasing Le’bo’my, who was prepared to run him into another three on one ambush, Hawl threw back his head and Howled a message. “West most. Order: Come here.”

Technically they were supposed to all howl their location so that the west most wolf could identify themselves and follow the order. But that wasn't practical in an active fight, and the battle ground was small enough that Reea could see where everyone was and recognize that she was the one being singled out. So she made some space and then ran towards him. Answering his call with her own once she had some breathing room. “Acknowledged. Status: Moving.”

Hawl ran towards her as well, and since she was running with a limp in her back leg, they didn't quite meet in the middle.

“What is it?” she asked in learned speech once she was close enough to be heard without shouting.

Hawl kept his mouth shut until he could skid to a stop beside her and whisper in her ear. “I have a plan to kill their Telling. Help me chase them down. When I give the signal, use yours.”

Reea gave him an odd look, but she nodded without asking for further clarification. They didn't have time and she trusted his judgment. The two of them ran as a pair past rabbits who scattered thinking that they were trying to get them.

Hawl was sniffing rapidly as he tried to put eyes on whatever rabbits he could. Once he found the trail, he could follow it. But with all the chaos going on it was really difficult to find the trail that led to an absence. There were so many rabbits running around and crossing paths, it was like playing a shell game.

“There!” Reea called out with a point of her nose.

Hawl followed her gaze towards a spot near Wouf. A fresh wound peeled into his side from nowhere, but whoever was attacking him seemed unprepared for him to ignore them in favor of continuing to chase down his prey.

Reea took off immediately, but Hawl needed a second to figure out the direction of the path he was sensing. Once he had the trail, he quickly caught up with Reea and then passed her by.

She wanted to help herd the target, but the limp she was suffering from was really interfering in her ability to maintain the pace needed to keep up.

Hawl ran through dangerous territory. A rabbit tried to cut him off in an attack but a harsh growl and an intentionally early snapping of his bloodied teeth was enough to scare them off. He left Reea behind. Even with her injury he trusted her to handle herself. His sole focus was on tracking down that invisible rabbit. As he got closer he heard an echoing thumping of paws slapping the ground. It sounded like it was coming from everywhere, though he also noticed the grass and foliage getting knocked aside. It seemed as if this rabbit had used the Telling before since it was weaker for them.

Hawl noticed an opening in the dirt and realized that the rabbit was trying to buy enough time to go hide in the bandit’s burrow. That was a death trap because the wolves could always just dig them out. But it was an excellent stalling tactic that would ruin his plan. Wouf was closest to the entrance. So he howled at him. “Center most. Order: prevent escape, center.”

Wouf caught another rabbit and reduced it to three separate chunks with a single bite. Then he started chasing the next closest target. He did not change course or acknowledge the order at all. But someone else answered for him.

“Acknowledged. Status: Moving, preventing escape.”. Mauor abandoned her highly effective circle pattern and ran to cut off the exit. Somehow she had managed to avoid all harm so far, but standing still guarding the burrow entrance was surely going to open her up to more risk.

Hawl could sense his prey slow down as they realized their escape plan was being out maneuvered. With a flash of brown fur they reappeared and-

Hawl barked an order in howl. “Signal: Now!”

He couldn't be certain how far behind Reea had fallen, and he couldn't spare the time to glance back and check, especially not with his neck bleeding the way it was. If she was too far away then she wouldn't be in range and they would have to pivot to a new plan.

It didn't take much for a rabbit to pass a Telling. The holder only needed to intend to give it, while the receiver only needed to recognize that a Telling was being passed to them. That was it. The process was so open ended and effortless that they could even send Tellings to each other from across the world, just by thinking about it at the same time.

As the little rabbit appeared from his invisibility, he inhaled to shout a name. His mouth opened and he screamed. But his little lungs made no sound.

“Alright you fleabags. Listen up!”. Reea’s voice rang loud and clear, like a bell within the perfect silence that had fallen over the battlefield. Hers was the only sound in the world. You couldn't even hear the ringing in your ears that came with natural silence. “You had your chance to give up, and you let it slip by. So now we get to do things the simple way. That is to say, we kill you and eat your guts! Do you even know what your guts look like? I do! I've butchered so many of your kind that it could match the weight of that tree over there. Do you really think-”. She was taunting them. Trying to get into their heads and ranting just to fill the space. Her Telling was not a thing for fighting. Her power had come from a social context, so it was nearly impossible for her to fight and maintain it at the same time. She could dance around attacks and spit insults, but she couldn't bite back without breaking the spell.

Hawl had to act quickly.

The target of their plan mouthed a horrified expletive as he realized that his voice had stopped working. He couldn't just drop the Telling, he had to get the attention of another rabbit so that they'd know to receive it. The frightened rabbit jumped up and down, waving his paws in the air trying to get someone to notice him so that maybe they could figure it out and take the target off his back. If he had enough time then maybe he could pull it off. But every second he delayed allowed Hawl to close the distance between them. True to his idiom, he abandoned that plan before it could get him killed.

The rabbit vanished once more, but it was no use. Hawl was already following his trail. He could smell the subtle changes in the strength of his scent, telling him that he was getting closer and closer. Hawl panted desperately and his legs were burning from the exertion. But he didn't dare slow now. The scent changed again. In a fraction of a second he realized that his prey had slowed. Did they finally hit their breaking point? Were they trying to hide? It didn't matter to Hawl. With teeth bared he closed in for the killing blow. He didn't need to see his target to-

As he launched forward Hawl felt something sharp dig into his cheek. If he had reacted to the scent of iron just a fraction of a second slower then he would have ended up fully impaling himself on the invisible dagger. And with his momentum he could have easily gouged out his eye or worse before he had a chance to pull back. Hawl flinched away with a silenced whimper. But on instinct he went in for a second attack. Slower this time, more cautious of the potential danger. He could feel the heat from the body and a prickle of fur made contact with the inside of his mouth. He had them between his jaws, but something told him to pull away instead of biting down. Only after he had pulled back a couple of paces did it click for him.

There was a thin cut on the roof of his mouth. He nearly died if not for raw instinct!

Hawl was on a time limit. But that near brush with his mortality forced him to slow down a little. He needed to catch his breath and think. A wolf's nose was an incredible thing. Hawl knew exactly where his target was. He could smell their fear without having to see or hear them. He knew what they ate for breakfast that morning, and what they ate for lunch yesterday. He knew which ones of the other bandits they had slept next to last night. He could smell the iron of the blade they were holding. He could pinpoint exactly how long it had been since they last defecated. And yet…

He couldn't determine the specific position they were standing in.

Were they holding the knife in front of them? Did they have it drawn back in preparation for a swing? Maybe they were letting it lie on the ground and were ready to bring it up at a moment's notice? All Hawl could sense was a vague blurry blob of overlapping scents. There was a reason wolves didn't use their nose for everything. You just couldn't beat vision when it came to determining the shape of things.

Time was running out. Reea couldn't maintain the silence forever. She was trying to use Wouf as a living shield, but he wasn't cooperating. Mauor just watched from her sentry, occasionally snapping at any rabbits who dare try to reach the burrow. Hawl looked back at where he knew his target was. And he saw maybe the faintest outline. A distortion in the air as if he was looking at the best camouflage possible. If he had more time, then he could simply wait for the rabbit to burn through the Telling. But that would take far too long.

Hawl inhaled slowly, and then held his breath. That map in his head faded away as the information his nose was feeding him stopped coming in. It was a weird, and vulnerable feeling for a wolf, like closing your eyes. He could only assume that his target hadn't moved from that same spot. He waited. Waited for the oxygen in his blood to slowly run dry. Waited for that familiar pain and panic to start clawing at him. He couldn't attack the rabbit normally, because any line of attack might be defended by a waiting blade. So he had to find a way to break their guard, to fight them from a distance.

He had to activate his Telling.

“-used to be an old superstition your paws were lucky. So wolves would actually cut them off of their kills and let them dry out to basically make mummified rabbit foot charms. Isn't that wild? Though that was before you turned the whole world against us and tried to wipe us out. Say, I bet you wish our ancestors weren't so badass right about now. Maybe then you'd be fighting your own kind instead of-”. Reea’s endless stream of smack talk was suddenly cut short with a whimper of pain, followed by a vicious snarl and the snapping of teeth. And all at once that oppressive silence evaporated.

It was now or never! The moment Reea stopped speaking Hawl immediately pushed something into motion. Manifesting his own little fragment of truth, his personal testimony of what his idiom represented, his gift, his Telling.

Streaks of brilliant blue suddenly rushed in from the in-between spaces. A tidal flood of ethereal water, pouring in from anywhere that no one was looking. Waves crashed into view from behind trees, bubbled up from under stones, and swept in from just outside your peripheral vision. A great flood had appeared from nowhere, as if a dam that no one knew was there had suddenly broken and released a raging tide! The water didn't look quite right. It was too brilliant, too blue, and too beautiful. It shined like liquid turquoise and clean white quartz. It looked… unreal, almost stylized! Like some grand artist had lovingly painted it onto the world. One could be forgiven for mistaking the painted tide for some kind of illusion or trick. But it carried the same weight that water should. And the swirling tidal wave was aimed at one particular spot.

Hawl leapt willingly into the surf he had summoned. He controlled the direction of the tide and maintained the surge of water, but he didn't have so much control that he didn't need to kick his legs and swim. The rabbit had surely died almost instantly to the violence of having several tons of water crash into him from all sides. But Hawl was determined to find the body and make sure.

With his lungs still burning, and his heart beating in a panicked Rhythm, Hawl swam deeper into the torrent. He squinted and blinked the blurry haze from his eyes and spotted a shape being tossed around within the tide. He needed to breathe! Every scrap of his physical being was screaming at him, clawing at his mind to turn around and surface. With great effort he pushed that warning aside. He had endured this before. He knew his limits. Opening his mouth underwater, Hawl grabbed the limp ball of fur and bit down. A crimson red leaked into the brilliant azure surroundings, and Hawl felt satisfied that his plan had worked.

Hawl swam up and willed the water to spin into a churning up current. He watched with growing impatiens as the surface drew ever closer. His vision started to darken slightly, and time seemed to slow down. The pain was unbearable and it was getting hard to stay focused. Then his nose breached the water's surface and he gulped down a sharp and painfully wonderful rush of sweet fresh air. Hawl coughed around the corpse in his mouth as he cleared his lungs and breathed away the self inflicted suffocation. As his body and mind were restored and that feeling of panic was alleviated, his control over the water started to fade. He still had some influence. But not enough to keep the flood from spreading out and absorbing into the ground. Eventually the flow of water slowed to a stop as his breathing returned to normal.

After catching his breath, Hawl surveyed the area. His Telling had had a wide reaching effect on the battle and his team had clearly taken the opportunity to their advantage. Only six rabbits remained. The rest were all lying dead on the floor. The ones who were still alive looked horrified and distraught. Their will to fight was clearly broken. “Three?!”, one gasped in shock, “Three Tellings?”

Hawl placed the body down on the ground to be dealt with later. And started walking towards them. “You put up a good fight. But the wolven empire does not take chances.”

The rabbit watched him approach with a despondent look on her face. She glanced over at Wouf brutalizing one of her fellows. Then she looked down at the small piece of jagged metal in her paw. She let it drop and looked up at Hawl. “I surrender?” she tried, a look of despair on her face. She already knew the answer.

Hawl sighed. He just knew that this was going to be one of those kills that would haunt him after the hunt ended and he got his empathy back. “You were given the option to. But you refused. Thereby satisfying the specifications for your predation notice.”. He said in that cold and heartless deadpan he was known for. “The only one who can revoke your notice now, would be an official of the burrows.”

She looked up at Hawl pleadingly. Her brown and cream colored fur soaked down to her thin wire frame. “Can't you just… Let me go? What if I promise to never cause trouble again?”

Hawl shook his head. “I'm sorry. But you know that is not how this works.”. And just like that…

Hawl enacted justice.