Wolf decided to push a little deeper than they had been told to go, Chester following him had made him uncomfortable.
Wolf didn’t mind, being in the forest again almost made him feel more at home than the monastery. His first memories were of the trees. He found a nice copse of trees near a small brook with a thick hedge that created a natural wall which he found perfect for a secluded place to rest for the evening.
He laid some small traps and much to his chagrin, it took very little time for him to catch both a fat rabbit and an angry squirrel. He quickly let the salty squirrel scamper off, not feeling he had enough meat to be worth the effort of cleaning. The woods here were teeming with life, and now that he knew how to make a proper trap, it didn’t appear that he would be going hungry regardless.
He sat cross legged on the ground and watched the freshly skinned rabbit roast on his improvised spit. He had dumped the offal in a small hole and buried it a few steps from the camp. The faint smell of fresh blood still floated in the air as he took a swig from his waterskin making his stomach growl.
He gave the rabbit a closer look and when his stomach growled again, he decided it was ready. As he stepped up to take the rabbit down he heard another growl, but this time it wasn’t his stomach. He slowly turned and glanced behind him.
Fangs and fur bowled into him as he crashed backwards into the thick hedge behind him and screamed in pain as he felt his shoulder torn open. He was able to toss the wolf off of himself with a quick pivot, sending the wolf crashing with a pained yelp.
He went to feel his bleeding shoulder and snatched his hand back as he felt something slice his finger. He took a quick second to check his surroundings, worried the wolf would pounce while he was down.
The thick hedge wall they had pushed through had actually been an overgrown cabin wall. He now looked around a dark shadowed room, only lit by the obscured fire. The shadows danced around a small room and then he saw the yellow eyes staring at him.
There was a pained whimper. Wolf looked closer and noticed that the wolf seemed to be tangled, as he glanced closer realization hit him. He slowly looked over his own shoulder. Sure enough, there was razorthorn everywhere.
“Neptia’s tits.” Wolf muttered as he slowly, very slowly, extracted himself from the edge of the bush that had grown under the dilapidated cabin wall. He had only crazed the edge, but razorthorn was incredibly sharp, and dangerous.
The finger length thorns as strong as iron, any animal caught would slowly bleed out and nourish the plant as it grew larger. Wolf had been lucky he had only clipped the edge, even a human could die by razorthorn.
He glanced at the whimpering wolf. He recognized the scarred muzzle. Somehow it found him again after all this time. “That’s what you get, stupid mutt.” He grumbled as he glanced around the small room.
The wolf only stared at him with its hungry eyes, smart enough not to move and make its situation worse. Which was unusually smart for a wolf if Wolf was honest with himself. He gave the wolf another glance before stepping out through the whole in the wall they had created.
He walked over and grabbed a small log from the campfire that was only burning on one end. It wasn’t great, but it would make a fine crude torch. A howl came from inside the hut.
“You did this to yourself,” Wolf shouted back as he stepped back into the odd shack. Now that he had some more light to see, he took it all in. The first thing he noticed was that it was small. Maybe three strides by three strides if he was generous. Thick cobwebs hung in the corners. There was a small stone fireplace, and some rotting cupboards. A bed against one wall, a skeleton in the bed.
He did a double take at that. The bed was near the razorthorn bramble that the wolf was stuck in. Yet not close enough he could step closer. As he drew near the wolf let out a low growl, clearly warning him away.
“Shut it fleabag.” Wolf grumbled as he pulled up to the bed. It was just a pile of bones on wood at this point, everything else had rotted away. He noticed a dust covered bulge under the ribcage.
He paused for a moment, it was always bad karma to interrupt the rest of the dead. He just shook his head as he pushed the bones aside and brushed away the debris to reveal what was underneath.
“Just a stupid book?” he asked himself out loud. There was another whimper from beside him. He glanced at the suffering creature and for a moment he felt pity, but his resolve firmed. “You stupid beast, you follwed my trail after all this time just to attack me, well this is just dessert.
He reached down and pulled up the leather bound pages. He brushed it off and tucked it into his belt before noticing something else. “The hells?” he muttered. He reached down and began brushing off the frame of the bed. Then he walked over and did the same to a wall. Pushing aside the cobwebs and detritus. “It can’t be.”
He took a step back and looked around the small cabin again in awe. “Oaksteel?” Everything here was made of oaksteel. That should be impossible. His jaw fell to his chest when he realized something else. “This isn’t old, it's ancient.”
Oaksteel was called oaksteel for a reason after all. How long did it take for a sword to decay the way this dilapidated building had rotted away? Who could even build a hut from oaksteel? It wasn’t like building from wood, it was like building with iron bars.
Now his interest peaked and he almost got giddy with excitement as he thought about treasure. He wasn’t prone to bouts of fantasy, but who didn’t turn childish with excitement when they discovered an ancient ruin?
He checked the cupboards. He checked around the room. He checked under the floorboards. He checked the fireplace. “Bupkis” he grumbled. Nothing remained of anything else except the rotted wood used to build the place.
There was another growl and he looked over at the wolf. The only unexplored corner of the room. Guarded by razorthorn and a hungry wolf. He looked at those predatory eyes and slowly pulled his knife. Then the beast whimpered.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
…..
Wolf grumbled as he threw another piece of the rabbit haunch to the bundle of rags that used to be a wolf.
It had taken him half the night to get the wolf extricated from the razorthorn. The stupid thing had tried to bite him more than once, until he had become angry and growled back. For some reason that had finally cowed the dumb mongrel.
He had several cuts on his own hands that he had had to bandage afterwards, and for all of his trouble, he now only had half his dinner.
“Dumb beast” He grumbled for the thousandth time that evening. It was late. He was tired. He was covered in small bloody wounds. And there had been nothing in that corner but more razornthorn. What a waste of time.
Wolf licked the grease between his fingers and stared at the injured animal. He had thought for sure that it would sprint into the woods and be gone the moment it had gotten free, but it had merely limped over near the campfire and laid down, staring intently at the rabbit on the spit.
Wolf was still hungry, but too tired to go back out tonight and check his traps. He sat in his bed roll and glared at the bloody beast. He had done his best to wrap some of the still bleeding wounds in cloth, but he only had so much to spare.
“If you eat me in my sleep, I swear I will come back from the dead to haunt you for eternity.” Wolf lectured before he laid back into his bedroll. He told himself he would stay alert and ready, but he had fallen asleep the moment he closed his eyes.
He awoke to rain and a furry sunrise. Furry sunrise? “What the-” His groggy eyes snapped open and he looked directly into the eyes of the wolf that was urinating on him. “You damned mutt!” Wolf howled.
The wolf hopped around the dyeing fire and just looked at Wolf with his tongue hanging out. Wolf was too tired to find any real anger so he just threw a stick at the stupid bed as he pulled himself out of his damp bedroll.
The wolf didn’t bother dodging the stick that flew nowhere near him and just continued standing there with his lolling tongue before giving off a soft whine.
There was a growl and Wolf looked down at his own stomach before groaning. Of course the damnable beast was hungry, Wolf was hungry too. He was supposed to be heading back towards the monastery but he ended up spending his entire morning resetting traps.
He munched on some jerky as he did his work, and he managed to stand his ground and only give half the jerky to the goddess damned whining monster pretending to be a wolf. In the back of his mind somewhere he knew something was wrong with the beast, that he was missing something about the situation, but he just shrugged and moved on.
By lunch time he had two new rabbits roasting on the spit, his never ending hunger loudly making itself known. He dropped down onto his dried bedroll and began looking through his pack for any more dried meat.
His hand wrapped around the book from yesterday and he curiously pulled it out. He had been so caught up in looking for treasure, he hadn't really considered the book much. As he opened it up and looked inside, he realized how foolish he had been.
….
46/5/37
What a wonderful gift my wife has given me. An enchanted journal might seem quaint to most who live here, but it cost my wife and I nearly our entire life savings to move to Sky City. I have no idea how she saved up for this amazing gift.
Now maybe you think I’m a rambler, but I, Javier Burnad am simply a man of many thoughts! I always have so many ideas and I always forget to write them down, so what better gift then a journal that doesn't need a pen?
For my maiden journal entry I have decided to write down my most recent idea!
* 2 handfuls of flour
* Three pinches of salt
* 4 large eggs ideally from a chicken
* As much molasses as you can afford
* 1 dash of water steeped with that marvelous tea that Sally makes
* At least 3 squeezes of milk
* And a good scoop of Ferdinand’s butter
It’s marvelous I tell you. I call it a cake!
….
“The hells?” Wolf asked himself. What was up with that date? He looked at the leather bound journal again and it was in wonderful shape. The fact that it was enchanted was no surprise for a journal that had outlived oaksteel, but what nonsense had been put in it?
There was a loud howl startling Wolf and he looked up. “Oh damn, damn, damn” His rabbit was burning.
He wasn’t sure how he had ended up getting the burned rabbit, but a half a turn of an hourglass later he sat back down and pulled out the journal. He really should be heading back, but maybe he could just try and read a little more.
….
6/6/37
Ha! I just made one for dear Lindy’s fifth birthday and it was all the rage. Now I’m wondering if I could make smaller cakes and add them to my bakery window. Usually it was that damnable Holly Wood always drawing attention with his creations, but this “cake” could put Burnad Bakes on the map!
6/9/37
That rascal! How did he make a recipe so quickly to equal my cake? And he might have even done it better than I did. Outrageous, well I’ll show him. I call my new idea the donut!
….
Wolf was getting bored. This ancient journal had to have something more than just nonsense about baking shouldn’t it? He gave a deep sigh as he started to skim.
6/29/37
That monster!....
6/42/37
My new idea is called the danish!
7/3/37
How did he do it!?
7/21/37
My wife says…
7/49/37
It’s New Cycles Eve and I have something that will utterly destroy the damnable Holly Wood and his Knead Bake Shop. Ha HAHA ha. It is called…. The CRONUT! My wife yelled at me for an entire hour when I told her I wouldn’t be joining her and Lindy at the celebration, but I must finish this, I must! I may be the only man in the city not celebrating tonight, but tomorrow, I shall celebrate victory!!! HaHaAHAHAHAhHAHA
Date… Unknown.
I don’t know what happened, but something went terribly wrong.
….
The writing had changed with that last sentence. The careful crisp letters were now hastily scrawled. He had finally gotten to the interesting part, but the sun had gone down and he needed more firewood. It appeared he would have to finish this story tomorrow.