Drell watched in silence as his mood darkened.
Ahead, the main Felren battalion had halted and established a camp for the night.
The Felren were preparing for the approaching attack, with warriors from each faction eager for the upcoming war.
The journey from the Felren lands had its share of challenges. Elder Drell had to maintain a measured pace with the main force while keeping a safe distance behind his daughter, whom he had sent as an envoy.
As a whitened Felren, Ralina would be vulnerable. The others would treat her as a plaything and taunt Drell while doing so.
Drell snarled as he watched the beasts before him.
Her mission was crucial.
A familiar sound caught Drell's attention, and a weight lifted from his chest. He looked up to see dark wings. That was the signal—she’d made it.
Relief washed over him.
The fate of all the Felren clans hung precariously on a knife's edge. The Blood Spirit clan could tip the scales and wipe them all out. It was evident that they were eagerly seeking any excuse to strike.
That's why Drell had commanded his troops not to give them any excuses. His soldiers had performed admirably, following his orders to perfection.
Elder Drell took a composed breath as he observed the approach of a large black-furred Felren, Elder Yurven, who seemed to be in a foul mood. Oddly enough, that gave Drell a sliver of confidence. Yurven prowled through the camp, his powerful paws stirring up dust, with fresh blood staining his chin.
Drell wondered who his latest victim was and slunk into the middle of the camp and into the main tent.
In a fit of rage, Elder Yurven burst into the tent behind Drell. His glistening black fur shimmered under the faint glow of the candles. Two other Felren sat silently inside, cautiously observing the new arrival. Elder Drell glanced over to see the white-furred Elder Frouhn, who nodded in response. Meanwhile, Yurven snarled and dug his sharp claws into the ground.
"Drell!" Yurven spat, his gaze filled with disdain. "What have you commanded your stupid dogs to do?"
Drell looked puzzled. "Command? I'm not sure what you mean."
"Don't play coy with me, mongrel," Yurven snapped, his teeth quivering with restrained rage. "Why won't your hunting parties obey my orders?"
"Your orders?" Drell was taken aback. "Unless I'm mistaken, our orders come directly from the noble line of Elder Imok herself."
Yurven's furious eyes locked onto Drell, and he raised his front paws, forcing Drell to kneel. Each word he spat down at the elder below him dripped with venom. "Your men are obligated to follow every command I give. If I wish it, your entire pack of mutts could be commanded to jump off the damn cliffs."
Confused, Drell gazed up at the black-furred beast and nodded. "I may not understand what you're referring to, but I will speak to the leaders of my hunting parties and ensure they listen to your every word and obey."
A wicked smile crept across Yurven's face as he lifted his paw, and the tension in Drell's shoulders eased.
"What about your other warriors?" Yurven sneered. "Your special scouting party."
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Drell felt a cold shiver run down his spine. "Who are you referring to?"
Yurven's smile widened. "I've heard rumours recently," he chuckled, locking eyes with Drell. "A group of Felren was spotted searching the outer reaches of our lands. These Felren wore distinctive armour and had light brown fur, almost the colour of honey. Now, I wonder if there's a clan that matches that description." He mocked.
The other Elders looked at Drell with suspicion, clearly unaware themselves.
"Do you realise, Drell, that it's illegal to wear armour while in our divine form?" Yurven's tone grew increasingly sour.
Drell stared at Yurven, wondering how he had discovered the existence of his warriors. Drell had kept them a closely guarded secret. His mind raced to find an explanation.
A spy within the clan? No, that's impossible. They’re all loyal. Could it be magic?
"Elder Yurven, they are merely bodyguards," Drell explained. "As you well know, they were searching for my daughter. They are servants, nothing more. They will be by my side during the battle, Elder."
"Bodyguards?" Yurven chuckled. "A pack of wild females? No, they won't accompany you into battle. Your nest mates will be with me."
A flash of rage flickered across Elder Drell's face for a split second, but that was enough. Yurven smirked.
Drell took a deep breath, suppressing his anger. "That’s not customary. The bodyguards of an Elder..."
"An Elder?" Yurven interrupted, his teeth flashing dangerously. "I am the only Elder here."
Elder Frouhn shifted her weight, fighting back a growl. Her eyes conveyed her desire to tear Yurven apart.
Yurven sneered. "From what I know, a bodyguard's role is to protect an Elder, correct?"
Drell nodded.
"I will ride with them tomorrow. And if any of them survive, I might even consider whitening them and having them join my clan," Yurven said.
Drell cleared his throat. "Of course, Elder." He bowed, imagining the best way to rip out Yurven's throat.
⚔
Elder Yurven walked away from Drell, with a satisfied smile playing on his lips. He cared little about the insignificant group of women he was hiding. His only aim was to wound the fool, and the expression he had seen on Drell's face confirmed he had succeeded.
Yurven chuckled to himself, approaching the white-furred Elder Frouhn.
He couldn't fathom why Imok allowed these snow coated heathens to walk among them. It was customary to whiten their traitors, and yet here was an entire clan born with the repulsive pale pigment.
Yurven wondered why the first Elder hadn't taken action. The Snow Felren typically lived in the farthest reaches of the north, dwelling in treacherous icy regions, far apart from others.
He guessed launching an attack on the Snow Felren would require a prolonged and painful campaign in an extreme climate. Elder Imok had ordered the sporadic inhabitants to emerge from their caves and join the fight. The great enemy was a brilliant ploy, since the Snow Felren were just as superstitious as the rest of these ignorant beasts.
Yurven leered at Elder Frouhn, a gaze that would intimidate any lesser Felren. However, she ignored his behaviour and stood over a crude map of the surrounding area, encompassing the cliffs, the stretch of beach, and the heavily fortified town.
"Frouhn, what intelligence do we have?" Yurven asked, already knowing the answer.
She glared at him while her paws dug deep into the ground. "All intelligence has been expertly gathered by your clan, Elder Yurven. We Snow Felren would attract too much attention with our white coats."
"Don't you forget it," Yurven spat, relishing the simmering hatred in her eyes.
"Are we going to have a meeting tonight, or are we here only to be insulted?" Frouhn began.
"Shut it, whitened," Yurven growled.
Frouhn hissed, her eyes blazing with rage.
"Let's get back to our meeting," Drell interjected, shooting Frouhn a warning look.
"As I mentioned this morning, we will honour Elder Imok's plans and launch the attack from the west coast. The Night Felren will descend here." Yurven pointed with a paw to the sharp cliff beside the town. "Meanwhile, the Blood Clan's chargers will approach from the sea. Both your clans will initiate a flanking distraction from the southern cliffs. This will draw their fighters. Once engaged, you will descend the steep paths here and congregate around the western walls. Our forces will then come up from behind and join the battle there."
Yurven savoured the thought of their clans trapped between high walls with foes on both sides.
"That will be suicide," Frouhn growled.
Yurven returned her menacing glare. "Come now, Frouhn. Have you no faith in your clan? Does the Snow have no backbone?"
She bit back a retort and fell silent.
"We will obey, Elder," Drell said, bowing. Frouhn mirrored the gesture with a stony face.
Elder Yurven smirked as he strode out of the tent. "Remember, once you've engaged the enemy, send the signal," Yurven called back, leaving the sight of the two fools.
Let the heathens discuss the best way to die.