Chapter 3 The Aamonwelp Who Cried Wolf
It was hard to tell exactly what their fisherman host…was, exactly. The voice sounded like a ‘he’ to Tine, but, really, because the fisherman was covered so thoroughly in clothes, it was difficult to tell, and he wasn’t giving answers. He rattled on about everything, except himself, and never gave them his name. Finally, they just began to address him as “Fisher.”
Fisher wore a loose outfit that, mostly white, rivaled the snowy ice in its brightness. The only color he wore was red; he was clad in red tights, sported a noticeably large red ribbon that ran through the hem of his skirt bottom, and a bit of reed on his hood, which was intriguing in itself; the pointed hood that covered most of his face bore two large points that resembled the oversized ears of a desert fox. While the hood itself was white, but had a single red pouf at the top of each foxlike “ear.”
And then there was the fish. Fisher always talked to the fish. Tine had assumed it would be their next meal until Fisher began conversing with it like a close friend and introduced it to them to Kilgore. Tine could not tell a difference between the other fish and Kilgore, except that Fisher carried the red trout on a rope tied to a stick. Of course, the fish has a name. Why couldn’t he name it Dinner, she thought, eying the trout as her stomach growled. Ouf. He’s at it again.
Fisher moved the rod to bring Kilgore to his ear, and nodded, as if in reply. ”We’s wants to give you this. It will help keeps you safe.” Fisher continued, interrupting Tine’s thoughts. He handed her a drawing. Once she took it, he began to wave his hands, making the fish bounce about on the string. "Looks out for these. They are dangerous, them. Theys jump out of the ice and will try to eats you. The greatest fisherman hunts them because they are delicious as they are dangerous. But beware! They will eats you up in one breath!" His eyes widen with each word.
The aged drawing depicted a boat being capsized by an enormous, pink, turquoise-scaled orca-like creature, whose forehead boasted a single, spiral horn. The sea creature dwarfed the boat, which it thrashed with apparent ease. Ugh, I hate everything about this journey, Tine winced to herself and passed the picture on to the others.
When Zawn dropped the drawing in front of Nemophily’s book, the Aamonwelp exclaimed, “Oh my, is this a rendering of the elusive Arcano? Those have been known to burst out of the ice to bite or spear their prey. A hurt Arcano may spew even ink on an enemy,” she said with excitement, smiling as if this were the best of news.
Hafoc laughed. “Wow. I feel like my cat just started talking.”
Tine bristled. “Excuse me?”
“Ah, no offense meant, kitty, but you’ve talked the whole time.” He bowed a little. “I meant, like a…proper cat, y’know?” He noticed her scowl. “Oh, sorry. Is ‘tabby’ better?”
Autumnus cut in before she could reply. He grabbed the Arcano drawing, and proclaimed in an overloud voice, “Thank you for the gift — ahem —Kilgore! With our newfound knowledge of gigantic, man-eating fish, we shall play it safe. Fisher, you have our word that no harm will come to you two as we stay in your camp.”
“That’s a big promise,” said Rhalie, as she attempted to craft a bed out of her miscellaneous pack items.
“Well, as best we can manage, of course.” Autumnus continued. “I’ll keep the first watch.”
“Righty-O,” mumbled Hafoc, who wrapped himself tightly in his cloak, and used his overfull bag as a pillow.
Tine studied the drawing as the group settled in for a long rest. On its back, it read: Beware the Arcano. Soon, despite countless worries, exhaustion overtook her, and she slept.
[https://i.imgur.com/U3nbJh5.jpg] [https://i.imgur.com/U3nbJh5.jpg] [https://i.imgur.com/U3nbJh5.jpg]
Tine’s wonderful dream of badass, unicorn whales killing Hafoc was interrupted near dawn when Autumnus poked her awake.
“Excuse me,” he whispered fiercely, “but you need to get up. Do. Not. Make. Any. Sudden. Moves.”
A bleary-eyed Tine immediately noticed a few things that were irritably wrong as she surveyed the current situation: First, they were surrounded by three, drooling wolves. Second, she and Autumnus were the only ones up. Why did he wake me up right away? Does he trust me the most? She blushed a little under her fur.
“I thought you would be the quietest,” Autumnus continued, as if he read her thoughts. “Can you help me with the others?”
Well, he’s not wrong, Tine supposed. Autumnus roused Fisher and the quieter members of the group, while Tine clasped a firm hand to Hafac’s, then Rhalie’s mouth to silence them as she woke them up.
The wolves became more agitated as everyone awoke. They would surely go in for the hunt soon.
“Time to fight to the death…again,” Rhalie yawned. “Does it have to be this early in the morning?”
Tine noticed Kylia was all focus and had daggers at the ready. Clearly, she wasn’t about to waste energy on chitchat. Her eyes sent a silent message: The wolf is mine. I will end it.
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Zawn and Hafoc were obviously seasoned fighters, too. The three stood at the perimeter of the firelight, each matched to an opposing wolf. Nemophily looked unconcerned. She picked up a book and began reading, but Tine noticed she had flame in one hand, ready. That left Autumnus and Tine in the center with Fisher, who, upon waking, immediately grabbed his little trout friend and curled up in a ball once more.
Hmm, Tine thought, considering Autumnus, He’s first up, but is he effective in battle?
As if in answer, Autumnus stuck first. He targeted the closest enemy with a ball of flame. The flames hit the ice directly in front of his target and singed the fur of the closest, white wolf, which made it look a bit like an angry, toasted marshmallow. Ok, apparently I’m the most ineffective one, Tine mused. But he missed.
Hafoc scowled. In response, Autumnus shrugged and held up a finger. “Warning shot.”
“Warning, my short ass,” Rhalie yelled. “Do you see them giving US one?”
Autumnus tapped his chin. “Well, I guess you do have a considerable point —“
“Just fight,” Tine murmured. “They mean to end us.” Her tail danced in readiness for battle.
Rhalie stuck the white wolf next with a shot from her crossbow. It howled in pain. In despair or to call for more wolf aid? Tine wondered.
Kylia and Hafoc teamed up on one of the gray wolves. Kylia kept its attention, allowing Hafoc to sneak in for a swift attack. At least that was the intent. The wolf, on guard, jumped out of reach just in time.
The wolf pack thankfully ignored Fisher, who still lay curled up in a heap on the ice, and they kept a steady focus on the opponents who posed a greater threat.
The white wolf staggered, bleeding, and stumbled out of Zawn’s reach as she advanced. Collectively, the wolves became warier of them now. Flame, crossbow, and blade all missed their mark. The pack's keen senses alerted the wolves to their foe’s every move.
“Fisher, stay safe — unless you are a hunter of both fish and wolves?" Autumnus cried, before attacking the closest wolf with yet more flame. “Wait. Would that make his name ‘Wolfer?’”
“Shaddup and fight,” Hafoc yelled.
Hafoc circled the fray, moving from wolf to wolf, as he searched for an opening. He looks like he intends to take them all down himself, Tine observed, as she swung her quarterstaff at a gray wolf, missing it, when Autumnus backed into her at the same time. The wolves stayed just out of reach. Time to switch to the bow, she conceded, maybe I can take one down at range.
With a sigh, Nemophily put a bookmark in place to save her spot in White Fang, and cast a fusillade of fire bolts near each of the wolves in rapid succession. “That should abate their malicious attempt to ingest us!”
“Wha— What did she say?” Rhalie stopped attacking for a moment to look back at the others, baffled.
“Don’na know. Don’t care,” Hafoc growled as he wrestled with an injured wolf. “Just keep fighting!”
Tine aimed an arrow first at one wolf, then another, hoping to get a clean shot, but with three melee fighters, it seemed hopeless. She resigned herself to guarding Fisher for now. Great. Why do I have to be so worthless in battle? Why do I even have to BE in battle? I just wanted to get out of Nagir, for Mut's sake. Why can't anything be easy?
Zawn appeared to enjoy the battle; both she and the wolf foe took turns growling louder than the other. Rhalie either had better aim, or a better angle because she was the same height as the enemy, and got a few arrows into a gray wolf’s flanks. She danced a little each time.
Hafoc finished off the bleeding gray wolf with a death blow and silently moved on to help Autumnus and Zawn battle the white leader, who, so far, had successfully kept them at bay.
Nemophily, flustered now, swung her book at the gray wolf closest to her, missed, and lost her bookmark. Kylia feinted but missed as it nimbly ducked out of the way. Rhalie shot her crossbow at it, catching it in the shoulder.
Outnumbered, the white wolf yelped in pain and ran, limping, off into the dark, leaving a trail of scarlet across the ice.
They ganged up on the last foe. Greataxe, sword, and dagger all hit their mark. The last wolf died swiftly.
Hafoc's knives made extra work of the corpse, and set chunks of meat aside to freeze in a bit of snowdrift.
Autumnus took a deep breath and closed each dead wolf’s eyes in turn. "Return to the land, so you may know peace." He looked up at the others, ignoring his own wounds. “Is everyone all right?"
In truth, most of them took damage, but nothing serious they couldn’t ignore. The cold was another matter.
Hafoc gave an approving nod to Autumnus as Rhalie urged everyone to inspect their packs for bandages. The closest thing they found to use for bandages was Hempen rope. Lots of it. Autumnus looked relieved when it was generally acknowledged that rough rope wouldn't do at all for a cut.
Not one of us has healing, Tine noted, what terrible luck. And again, I am of no help. I'll be surprised if they don't put me in a sack and dump in the water to drown at this rate.
It was that hour before dawn when you can sense the light before you can see it. They agreed to post watch and let the injured Autumnus take a short rest...but what next?
Fisher was still on the ground in a heap covering his little trout friend, Kilgore. Kylia crouched by Fisher and whispered, “It’s ok. No more wolves. You can get up now.”
Fisher sat up, stretching. Apparently, had fallen asleep during all the fighting. “O, we ares always safes from the wolfs," he yawned, "Theys never bothers us." He looked around and became surprised at their surprise at this.
"What does you think?" Fisher asks Kilgore, then put the fish to his ear. If Tine didn't know better, she'd swear she saw the little trout nod their way.
At this, the fisherman clambered into a crosslegged sit and began to rummage through his precariously stuffed pack. He had enveloped his head almost entirely in the bag when he found what he wanted. He held out a jar for Kylia to take.
The cork-topped jar contained a chartreuse liquid that bubbled slightly. The contents moved in slithery waves as he waggled the small bottle from side to side.
Kylia reached toward the bottle with some hesitation. “Um…you use this to avoid the wolves? Don’t you need it?”
"O, we's uses it, but haves more," he says, pushing the small jar held toward her. "Takes it!"
Kylia took the bottle and inspected it. "Wulf-B-Gon" is scrawled on the makeshift label plastered to its front. The label's other side, read through a sickly green haze, says:
We are healthy only to the extent that our ideas are humane.
Use 1x daily. Wash. Rinse. Repeat.
“I’ll be. Now, if he has a bottle of Arcano-B-Gon, we’ll be set,” Hafoc muttered.
Morning rose, replacing night with a light that nearly blinded them as it reflected off the ice. Even so, Tine spotted a city across the water, far to the north. She pointed to the spires in the distance, “Is that Svlandir?”