Flare had settled in rather well. The other wolf had been scared shitless the first time he'd encountered a hunter, and it was lucky I had been with him at the time otherwise he'd have gotten far more wounded then the scratch across his thigh.

He had carved out his own den, just next to one of the large shrubs in the meadow. He'd even taken to hunting his own food.

So yes, I'd say Flare was settling in admirably. Even better after his cut had healed.

I found I quite enjoyed his company, as I had previously had none. I didn't mind sharing a territory with Flare, though I got the impression if any other wolf were to wander in, I'd be less than welcoming.

The hunters around here had only gotten worse, and perhaps Flare and I were taking it a bit less serious then we should be.

We had recently taken to baiting the hunters, then leading them until they ran off one of the various cliffs (though, really, it was mostly Flare who would do this, with me sitting a safe distance away and watching the chaos). They were shockingly unobservant. We hadn't ever lead them off a cliff tall enough to kill them, because honestly, we were just messing with them.

Flare sat next to me as we looked out over the ravine.

The red wolf sighs, rolling his shoulders. "Have you heard what the hunters are calling us?" He asks.

I look over at him, then back at the river that ran through the shallow canyon. The rushing water ran over the rocks in waves, and a herd of caribou drank from the cool stream on the opposite bank.

"I don't think I have," I say, ears flickering at the sound of bird song from the canopy above.

Flare smiles in an amused sort of way, chuckling. "They call me The Devil of the Canyon," he said with a roll of his eyes. "And you The Reaper of the Wood,"

I hum, frowning. "Why the Canyon?" I wonder out loud, turning to my friend. I get the Reaper part, they do think I'm responsible for the 'death' of Darra Baron, after all.

He shrugs half-heartedly. "Not sure. The people around here have an odd liking for longwinded names,"

I nod, smirking. Flare had come here from another continent and had said multiple times that he found the people in this part of the world very strange. I did not entirely disagree.

"You have no idea. The name of my village is 'The Home of The Forest Spirit'. I'm not entirely sure why, I don't think anyone is, really,"

Flare snorts. "You say that as though you are any better," he teases, nudging me with his shoulder "Does 'The Cave of Many Gemstones' or, 'The Cliff of Knights' sound familiar to you?"

I laugh, shaking my head. "In my defence, I had very little to do before you came along," I defend with no real bite. He was right, after all. He usually was, it seems.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

The other wolf simply shook his head. "You know, Darra, I could have sworn you'd named this very cliff 'The River's Peak' just two days ago," he said teasingly, resting the pad of his paw on my shoulder.

I sigh dramatically. "Alright, you've caught me. I have no excuse, I'm just a mongrel turned poet," I drawl sarcastically, shrugging Flare's paw off.

Flare nodded. "Oh yes, and what a poet you are, oh Reaper of The Wood," he says before bowing his head. "None shall ever match your grandeur,"

I snort. I stand and bump him with my flank. "Now look who's the poet," I tease and trot back into the tree line "Come, oh Devil, we have dinner to catch," I call over my shoulder.

I hear Flare laugh behind me, and his paw steps as he hurries to keep up.

###

One Week Later

I yelp as an arrow grazes my pelt, and quickly change directions, bolting through the forest, weaving through trees and over logs like it was second nature.

I hear shouting from all around me and push myself to run just that little bit faster.

As a cliff face comes into view, my heart stutters and I leap too soon. I scramble to climb up the cliff, but my claws tear away the earth like it was parchment. I kick out my hind legs, digging into the face of the cliff.

I yelp as a hand wraps itself around my ankle, and fight to cling to the cliff as it tries to pull me back down.

I yelp as my claws begin to tear open the turf under them and I sink lower down the cliff face.

Now four hands were around my legs, as many huntsmen shout and holler, and I howled in fear.

I desperately clawed at the earth beneath my paws, trying desperately to climb the cliff.

I yelp as sharp teeth dig into my scruff and mercilessly yank me up onto the cliff, and forcing the huntsmen to release me. They drag me a few meters back, then release my scruff.

I scramble up, looking to Flare, who was snarling savagely at the huntsmen.

I rush forward, following my friend's example and pulling my lips back with a vicious growl.

The huntsmen nearest the cliff back away, looking at us in frustration and anger.

"You really don't notice 'ow big they are 'till you've seen 'em up close," one of them says to another, sounding slightly panicked.

I growl anew, inching closer to the cliff face and unsheathing my claws.

"Where the hell are the archers?!" Another of them asked frantically, hand on the hilt of his sword.

"Lost 'em a few kilometres back," commented a scrawny-looking huntsman.

None of them looked away from us, and either had their weapons drawn or at the ready.

Flare bristles next to me, growling with his ears pinned to his skull and his tail held high. I knew I had a similar stance to me.

We made eye contact for a fraction of a second, and I knew what to do.

I lower my lips a fraction and adjust my stance so I was standing a bit more straight.

"Leeeeaavveee," I growl out voice like a bear that had gargled a pound of gravel.

The huntsmen backed away in fear, eyes wide in shock.

"Did it jus-"

Flare and I growl in unison, creeping forwards.

Another huntsman grabbed the arm of the one who just spoke. "'ho the 'ell cares?! Let's get the fuck outa 'ere!"

And with that they all ran, some looking back at us to make sure we didn't follow.

I relaxed, allowing my lips to once again cover my teeth.

Flare looked over at me worriedly. "You sure that was a good idea, Dare?" He asked, sounding concerned.

I sigh. "No, not really..." I shake my head, looking at him gratefully. "Thanks for the save, I'd be dead if it weren't for you,"

Flare grinned, seeming thankful for the change of subject. "And don't you forget it," he says playfully.

I huff, going to walk off.

As I pass Flare, I smack him in the chest with my tail and run. "Tag!" I shout.

I hear Flare shout in faux indignation and give chase.