Amalia and Bazil rushed to catch their mother. Nekana would slow just a little, but as soon as they were even with one another, she picked up her pace, making her way through the trees down into the valley below.

Where… she was stopped by several elk. “You cannot go to him, Nekana. None of you can,” the elk said, raising her head and trying to look rather tall.

“Why?”

“He wishes to see no one. He has asked us to guard him.”

Amalia felt her whole chest tighten. Her mother seemed taken aback. Nekana asked if the news of the cougar’s death had come to him. But Amalia knew the answer even before the big doe answered.

“He knows. He wishes to see no one. You cannot go to him .”

Bazil grumbled, “And what would he have us do? What happened?”

“He says he is too old, and it is too much strain on his heart. He cannot, no, will not see anyone right now.” The doe was not apologetic, perhaps proud to be among the privileged few allowed to see him.

It is the same thing that he has been doing with the humans. He will not guide us. He wants to just wait out the problem. But what if the humans were the cause of that horrible death?

Amalia listened passively to her mother try to reason with them, with Bazil trying to support, but it was obvious that it would do no good. If what I think is not true, one of us should be looking for our sister right away.

They were turned back.

***

Things got so much worse, so fast. Rosalea thought as she cut into a deer the wolves had brought back to eat.

No one knew how they were doing it, but it seemed like every arrow was tipped with poison that would try to corrupt magic. Some mystics were still resilient to it; others were not.

The attacks on supply trains had to stop. The humans pushed their way into the forests and cleared massive swaths of trees and built up their town.

Days had turned into weeks and had turned now into months. Spring was finally here. Rosalea often had the door open to her home to keep it cool because the little cooking fire heated everything too much. She took her slab of meat and set it inside her usual pot, not sure how she wanted to prepare it yet. She put the lid on to protect it from nosy early-spring bugs that were just waking up.

It wasn’t that the war had stopped really; it was just that the humans had the upper hand overnight. Now mystics only hunted them when they got deep enough into the trees that stealth and magic could be used to kill them because anyone who got struck with one of their arrows had a chance to turn into… well, even the mystics had started calling them demons. Blazing with magical fire, supernatural strength, and all that aggressive rage… it seemed an apt moniker.

Then… one day, Connall called his own meeting. He sent word through Raisa, and then a little afterward, Rosalea could hear him howling to show he was ready. Nekana looked like she did not want to go. Her mood had been a little bad since the day she, Amalia, and Bazil had been rejected by their Moryshin.

I almost feel as though it is somehow my fault, Rosalea thought as the wolves debated what to do with her and Miri. I keep trying to reach out to the Gods for help, but they are never there. Fen even seemed frustrated by it. Now I am here, and their Moryshin blocks them out and the Gods do not answer them. Eventually, it was decided that Miri should come with them to see the other pack, but Rosalea and Mere would stay behind. With how tense things were with humans, Rosalea was pretty confined to the immediate area of the den.

“Be safe,” Rosalea said as Amalia apologized again for leaving her. It has been very kind of them to never leave me on my own, she thought, watching them go.

Mere napped in the sunlight, and Rosalea found herself falling into a routine. She had thought about making some bread and toasting it with thin strips of meat… but it was too late, she had already done the most efficient thing and started a soup. Oh well. Maybe next time.

While it boiled, she sat with her back against the wall and felt the sun coming down on her feet, and thought about taking off her shoes. She picked at a snag in her shirt, and then sighed, and pulled her knife from her waist. The ironwood handle felt so familiar now, it was the only weapon she had after losing everything with Fen. She trimmed away the threads and then stared at it. Little keepsakes from my family. Ulric’s bowl. Lost. Like them… like me. Why am I even here?

There was no answer. The wind just rustled through the trees. I should get out some sewing or something, she told herself, but she felt a little too lazy for that.

Amalia was trotting toward her through the trees, and normally the wolf would have called out some sort of greeting to her. As Amalia got closer, Rosalea saw why; she had something in her mouth.

Eek, it squirmed. Rosalea tensed up as Amalia loped over to her, what the heck was the wolf doing?

She came right up to Rosalea. No greeting, no explanations, she just leaned forward, opened her mouth, and dumped whatever was in it into Rosalea’s lap. It floundered and tried to get away. “Catch it!” Amalia cried as it slipped off of Rosalea’s lap.

The sharp, authoritative tone had Rosalea moving before she was thinking. She was on her knees, grabbing at the little fluffy thing roughly and pinning it down to the ground. Her heart skipped a beat as it let out the most piteous, terrified puppy scream that Rosalea had ever heard. He was a tiny little tan and gray… wolf. “Amalia?! What? Why?” she couldn’t even get her questions out.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

“I mean, pretty sure that sound means that it believes we’re going to kill it. It shrieked most of the way here and then devolved to pathetic little whimpers just moments ago,” said the big white wolf in a tone that sounded either too calm or a little smug. Rosalea could not quite process it, except that Amalia obviously was perfectly fine with this situation.

“Amalia!” Rosalea said with so much fluster going through her that her face began to flush as the puppy squirmed beneath her grasp. After that horrible scream, it was wheezing and whining with every breath. Its whole body was slicked with what had to be Amalia’s saliva. “Shh,” Rosalea tried to prompt the little one, expecting it to be a little like Miri. That was a mistake, as soon as she lifted her hand off the back of its shoulders, it whipped around and almost caught her fingers in its little jaws.

So small, she thought, as she managed to get a grip of its scruff despite the snarling and biting. Small like the collie dogs’ puppies. He was bony, his hair was a little clumpy. She lifted him by the scruff, surprised he didn’t have anything to say for himself. I guess if there are regular animals that wolves eat, that there would be regular predator animals. I just have not seen any, she thought with a frown as she passed her other arm under the pups front legs and against its chest. She could see now he was a little boy, and she pinned him gently against her body, waiting until he stopped screaming. “Easy,” she tried to soothe. “Easy.”

He returned to wheezy whimpers and seemed to be still, so Rosalea let go, just as Amalia started bristling, “Rose—”

The little monster whipped his head back and grabbed Rosalea right in the face just as Amalia finished, “don’t do that.”

Rosalea cried out sharply and grabbed the monster by his ear. He screamed and released her cheek, but got her a second time in the hand, across the top of her middle finger’s knuckle. She wasn’t down for any more puppy bites, so she squeezed him and wrestled until she got his scruff again. Her cheek was on fire, and the blood that began to run was itchy and hot.

Amalia sighed. “This is the one person in the world that might save your life, and you return the favor by drawing her blood?”

Rosalea held him relatively still by holding him close but keeping a good grip on the back of his neck. The puppy went all limp after this last struggle.

“Amalia?” Rosalea demanded more of an explanation.

“Well, I have no doubt he is quite… wound up considering the situation,” Amalia moved forward. She gently nosed the side of Rosalea’s face where it was bleeding. She stared intently at the large wolf as she sat down apologetically next to her. “Anyway, don’t let it get away; it has nothing but death waiting for it if it doesn’t stay with you.”

Rosalea frowned, “You are making no sense and sounding more terrible than usual,” she said grouchily as her finger and face bled. How was she supposed to hold onto a feral little gremlin and deal with bites?

Amalia did not comment immediately. The puppy was still limp, and so Rosalea shifted so that she was cross-legged. She slowly lowered the puppy to the ground. He was small enough to fit comfortably in the hollow between her legs. He did not move or squirm. Rosalea slowly released him, hoping that he would not bite again, because now her legs were easily accessible. He remained very still, but she kept her hand near his scruff, even though she was bleeding on him.

“Amalia… I need some water and fabric for bandages.” Rosalea huffed. Amalia nodded and used her magic to bring over Rosalea’s bowl from the fountain as well as some scraps of cloth from Rosalea’s last pant-sewing project. Rosalea cautiously lifted her hand from the back of the wolf puppy’s neck and put her fingers in the bowl. She inspected it, “Uh, well, not bad or deep, just… he must have sharp little teeth,” she said as she wrapped her fingers.

Amalia huffed and put an apologetic nose to her cheek again, “I am sorry he got you right in the face. He’s lucky you were so nice about it.”

“You carried him in your mouth and let him scream about it the whole time, so,” Rosalea said with a raised brow.

Amalia huffed as Rosalea soaked a bit of cloth in the cold water and pressed it to her face tenderly. That bite did feel pretty bad. She did not even know how she was going to get a bandage to stick with a bite just under her eye.

Mere would stretch, joints popping. “What a way to wake up. Where did we get a feral pup?” she asked as she moved to Rosalea, putting her nose to a tree and growing a curling leafy plant with unnatural blue colors. “Here,” said the wolf, breaking it off and handing it to Rosalea. “Mash it between your fingers.” Amalia pressed the wet compact against Rosalea’s cheek as she did as Mere instructed.

It made a very sticky goo that started hardening, and Rosalea pressed it to her face. I think this is the same stuff they used on my burn. It immediately dulled the pain.

“So, about the whelp…” Amalia said. Then she didn’t continue. Her ears went down. Mere tilted her head.

“Rosalea, Mother told you a bit about the Moryshin,” Amalia said.

Rosalea nodded, but she felt the mystic was just buying time.

“We’re all born connected to him. Uh, mystics are made for bonds. We gain wisdom and magic, but we must be anchored to something to be more than just an animal. Some mystics are liana, and some of us are anchored on the Moryshin.” Rosalea watched Mere’s ears folding back.

“This puppy is the child of my cousin. He’s nearly three months old. His sister, Trill, talks fine.”

“This is a mystic puppy?” Rosalea asked, “That… doesn’t talk? Is that what you are saying? Why would you have him then…” she frowned.

“He’s plainly feral,” Mere said, the old wolf’s face completely dour. “He was born outside the Moryshin’s bond.”

“After demonstrating, uh, how … uh, feral, he was,” Amalia said, “Connall recommended we force the other clans to tell us if they are seeing similar failings. This can’t be the first one. They… were going to uh… kill him, but it’s not his fault he was born unwise, so I just… uh, took him.”

Rosalea’s brows both raised, “You stole someone’s baby? What about his mother?”

Amalia shook her head. “Too ashamed that something like this came from her.”

Rosalea felt her eyes glassing up. How horrible, she began to rub the puppy’s neck and shoulders. Just because he is different? Cannot talk? Just regular?

“There’s no room here for something like him,” Mere said softly. “We know better than to attack mystic animals for our food, but how would a wild animal know? There are only wild prey animals here,” she said in a way that sounded a little consoling, perhaps she was feeling Rosalea’s upset… and judgment.

“Killing him is way too harsh. I couldn’t stand it,” Amalia grumbled. “So yeah, they won’t be coming here to get him. But… he needs to be with you, Rosalea, where it’s safe. None of us are going to be able to look after him.”

Mere sighed. “The Moryshin is too old. He cannot hang on forever. The Gods do not provide a way. We need to help ourselves. Connall may be right. We may need to properly organize and fight.”

Amalia shook her head. “I do not know. We will end up getting poisoned and then a lot of us will kill each other. There has to be a smarter way. Uh… I’m going to go back though. If they are still talking, I want to know what about. I want to know if there is more evidence of… the end, I guess, if there is no Moryshin.”

“Can you not just… make a new one?” Rosalea asked.

“The Gods must appoint one,” Mere said. “The one… that was appointed, was stolen.”

“Then, someone should be out there looking for it?”

Both wolves shook their heads. Amalia began walking back the way she had come. “Wait,” Mere said, “I want to come with you.”

Rosalea huffed. I guess it is a touchy topic, she thought as the wolves slunk off. Poor thing, she thought. She decided to just sit with him, rubbing over his back and shoulders until he breathed a little more normally. “If I had magic still, I would get all that spit and mud off you and get you all fluffy and dry. I would talk to you in a way you could understand directly.” She picked a little twig out of his fur. “I guess none of the mystics have mind magic that I have seen so far, they barely tolerate regular animals, I guess.”

The little pup whined at her, and then he began to pant with stress. She stroked him gently. “Do not worry. We can both be something the mystics tolerate together,” she said softly to him, trying to talk to him the only way she could as they waited for the pack to return with hopefully not more bad news.