A/n: Btw nox is basically the equivalent of a 17 year old human at this point. Dogs age faster than humans after all.

Howling Thunder 11: Toy’s for the Future

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“Huh? What are…oops!”

In my confusion I slip off the roof, dispersing into a black cloud I try to hide my mistake by reforming on the ground like nothing happened….she didn’t buy it.

She’s looking up at me, barely a head shorter, “You, are my mate, determined by our mothers, the name is Patra by the way.”

I look at Ptah but he is simply nodding in confirmation, “My tribe has served your mother since the great war. Now that the Inari finally has pups of her own we are being rewarded the privilege of marrying,”

Patra cuts him off, “That’s how it is pup, but for now keep your hands to yourself please, I don’t intend to be tied down playing happy homemaker just yet.”

This girl is pretty and all but I already have Asta, “Do whatever you want, I don’t care.”

“I will, now go fetch the crate on my cart. Silver pup go find your sister please.”

She stands there with her arms on her hips making demands. Where does this attitude come from, definitely not Ptah. I actually don’t mind, I’d rather have mates that can think for themselves then need to constant attention… and she’s nice to look at, none of the girls in the den had tan skin like her.

The crate is rather long, hanging off the end of the two wheeled cart. If not for it still being hitched to an ox the cart would probably tip from the weight.

Patra seems all smiles while watching me try to figure out how I’m supposed to unload this thing by myself.

“You gonna help? This is your stuff.”

She puts a finger to her chin, “Ah, actually that crate is a little present I made for you pups.”

Fortunately Walt returns with Aka and helps me bring down the crate. Opening it up we see several leather outfits and two weapons, one being a large saber.

Ptah and his daughter walk over, he looks at her with a smile, “Not bad at all, you’ve done well under your mother.”

The pride is oozing from her, all smiles she pulls out a red and black outfit and presents it to Akane, “Here you go cutey, from now on I’m in charge of you sibling’s clothing, armor and weapons. First is this combat grade kimono, a short skirt and short sleeves for mobility, a chain mail lining for protection.”

While Akane’s red tail is going wild, Walt pulls out the saber nearly tall as him. It does have a mean look to it, the blade is a bit jagged instead of straight. He’s already trying to coat it with a layer of ice. Satisfied with the result he gives a grateful nod towards Patra.

I look at the other weapon, not a spear, more like a reddish metal pitchfork with black leather wrapping the haft. The middle prong is a bit longer than the two side prongs, the side ones have a bladed outer edge with barbs on the bottom.

Looking at the jackal girl who is still fawning over my sister, I ask Ptah instead,  “Hey what is this?”

He takes it from me, giving a smile towards Patra, “This a trident, made from bronze, she probably had your sparks in mind. Tridents are a weapon primarily used by the naga.”

She made me a demon weapon?

Patra calls over, “Give that thing your strongest blast.”

Now it's my turn to wag my tail, “Really, my strongest? No more charcoal spears?”

She nods with her hands on her hips, not the slightest bit of doubt that I won’t be able to break it.

My tail emits a bright reddish flash as I point the trident over the wall. The sparks flicker and crawl up the pole from my arms, the gather within the prongs before firing off in a bright line mimicking actual lighting. The arc reaches just past the wall, not quite making it to the nearest gigapine.

The trident feels warm but quickly cools, small sparks of remaining energy flit between the prongs.

Patra whistles, “Not bad fuzz ball, looks like it should last you a bit.”

If she can keep making me toys like this thing I’m soooo keeping her.

Still inside the crate are a matching set of leather armor, one black, one white. The white one is thicker without sleeves, instead it has metal shoulder plates. The black one has a left sleeve and a black fur lining, the leather is lighter.

No doubt these are made for Walt and I.

The last item is a large set of armored, red gauntlets which are immediately snatched up by Akane. They have an oriental look like the suit of armor displayed in mother’s hallway.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

Without being told, Aka puts them on, they reach clear past her elbows, the fingers look like wicked red claws.

Her red spiky hair lights on fire, embers fly up from her fox ears. As she punches her fists together a large amount of red flames erupt from the armor plates along the gauntlets. She has a smile so pure it totally clashes with the massive amounts of menacing flames coming off of her.

Patra gloats, “Did I mention the kimono is completely fire proof.”

I can guess who my sister’s new best friend is.

An older jackal woman walks over in more typical blacksmith garb, she greets Ptah and we help her swap her stuff into the smithy and load Ptah’s equipment on the wagon.

Dinner is rather festive, tonight was the last naming ritual presided over by Mother. She just supervised, the twin’s mother, Rota, held the pack stone.

At the meal, Patra sat herself between me and Aka. Surprisingly, sister didn’t mind and the two happily chatted about all sorts of female things. Walter was silent as always.

Looking around at the familiar dining room, I sigh, “We’re finally leaving.”

Walther actually speaks, “I get to see Sassa again.”

I crack a grin looking at my older brother continuing to eat as if he hadn’t said anything.

Poking his side with my elbow, “I get to see Asta.”

All I get out of him is his blue eyes rolling.

Mother smiles at him as well, this last year he’s hardly spoken a single word. I’m sure she was more than a little concerned.

In the bath Patra fearlessly follows us in, no one outside of our family would dare enter here.

Seeing my surprised face she grins, “I snuck in here all the time when I was a pup, privilege of being your mate.”

Saying that she turns and begins to wrestle Akane to help her get undressed, if one wasn’t my sister it would be quite the show.

At this point I have no complaints about Patra.

After the bath however, outside of my own room…

Patra holding the door, my sister inside, “No men allowed yet pup.”

The door closes, “This is my room!”

From inside, “Our room.”

…um, same difference? I can’t help but laugh a little.

Whatever, I’ll spend the night in the study.

Stepping inside I find Mother, Ulfa, and Maug laughing by the fire. Mother is in the large chair while Ulfa is petting Maug in her lap on the couch.

They pay me no mind as I go to the counter and find a jug of mead.

Once I’ve seated myself at the desk Mother asks, “Nox my darling pup, do you know what an Alpha is?”

Enjoying my drink first, I lick my lips before answering, “You’re an Alpha Mother, leader of the Kitsune tribe. Ptah is an Alpha, leader of the Jackals.”

She corrects me, “His wife is the alpha, Ptah has no talent for leadership.”

Ulfa speaks, “You’re an Alpha boy.”

Maug cackles at the idea.

I sigh with another drink, “So you’ve told me repeatedly, the Warg Alpha, the lost tribe.”

Mother smiles, “Still an Alpha, so, answer my question.”

A leader? A warrior? A deity?

I recite what Ulfa has taught me, “The Alpha is the one who unites his people under him, by any means, kings, heroes, warlords, tyrants. Father is the King, Fenrir, the Lord Alpha of all beastmen. My divine task is to lead the black tails out of the shadows and rise once more. This… is beyond my understanding honestly.”

Maug sits up and looks over, “You’ll understand once we reach Yoden pup. I won’t enter the city. Pay attention to the faces of the so called Alphas of the lesser tribes when they look at your black fur. Those weaklings now hide behind so called birthright. Remember, we’re not traitors, but if need be we’ll be monsters.”

Odd for him to be serious.

I take another drink and look at the bookshelf, the many stories title’s are barely visible in the dim firelight. Stories of grandeur, trials, leaders, some are simply recipe books or reference material. I used to make Mother read me stories of young adventurers setting out and creating their own kingdom.

Would it not be enough to simply take the black tails and start a town?

Do I have to be a king, a hero, …. a monster?

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