Ch 1 Entering

                I think it was that day that changed everything for me. I think you were the thing that I needed more than anything else.

                Izara sat on the edge of the waterline with his line. It was small, and few things actually bit on it, but he would spend hours there, simply watching the tide rise and fall, dreaming of what was across those great waters. Some days he would doze, the line practically tied to his finger, and somedays a girl would come and watch him. At first, he didn’t know she was there, but a time or two he would catch her, standing just outside of his sight. Even then, he often thought he was dreaming when he saw her. Somedays he thought he saw an angel and somedays he thought she was a demon that had come from the sea, waiting to drag him under.

                The sea was highly superstitious for his people. The sea was the place that Lyalltines both admired and feared the most out of all things. A Lyalltine that drowned would find themselves unable to return to their Silver Forest.
                One of those days, when he was lying on his back, his eyes closed but when he was fairly sure he was awake and reasonably sure she was there, he told her, “Don’t you know that Lyalltines are afraid of the ocean? I won’t go with you if you came from there. I want to see the Silver Forest when I die.”

                She laughed and replied, “I didn’t come from there, but I do come from the sacred forest. Did you know there’s a god that lives there? A god that has lived in the Silver Forest?”
                “Everyone knows about Red,” he answered, running his hands through his own red hair. “Why would I want to see him?”
                In truth he was curious. He didn’t really believe that the god lived there, but there were may Lyalltines that said they’ve seen him and talked to him. “Besides,” Izara added. “They say he’s a fool.”
                “Radmund is an honest wolf,” the girl answered, rocking on her heels. “Though maybe that does make him a fool.”
                He looked at her curiously. She had long, straight black hair and eyes that knew more than she was letting on. Still, he didn’t think he should go with her just yet. “I’m fishing. Maybe I can go with you another time.”
                “It doesn’t look like you are. Where is your rod?” She asked, and for the first time in the last hour, he realized that it wasn’t with him. He looked around frantically, but she walked up and pointed straight out to sea to a rocky outcropping. “Is that it? It looks like the tide took it.” Sure enough, the tangled piece of wood that he used as a rod was dangling from the rocks precariously, the sea threatening to drag it off and pull it further out. “It looks like you’ll have to wait until the tide goes back out if it’s even still there when it does.”

                He nodded sullenly, but he was now looking at her again. Her eyes were filled with mischief as she looked back, and his heart beat quickly for a moment.
                “So,” she said. “Do you want to come with me to the sacred forest to meet your god?”

                Izara stared at her for a long moment. It was no secret that Radmund lived in that forest, certainly, or that he walked amongst his people--sparingly, but he was there compared to other gods--but there was a certain stigma about going into that forest, especially alone.

                “You’ll be going with a Mystic,” she told him, grinning wider at the face he gave her, knowing that she had guessed at his next complaint. “What? Do you not want to go with me? Do I look that bad?”
                “You look beautiful,” he blurted out before looking out at the ocean shyly, taking a long, awkward moment before speaking again. “Alright, sure. We can go.”
                She grinned and took his hand, leading him up the steep incline. Lyalltines, fearing the ocean, had their land steep and high above the water level. It wasn’t their choice, per se, but they treated it as their choice. The two teens were practically scaling the path to get up to the average level. It hardly stopped teens like Izara from going down to fish, and fish were a big staple in their diet despite many pretending like it wasn’t just to avoid the sea.

                “What’s your name, anyway?” He asked her, and the girl looked back and smiled, her golden eyes gleaming as they reflected the light that shone on them, telling him, “Loro. What’s yours?”
                “Izara,” he answered breathlessly. It was common for people living on the mainland to have golden eyes, though his were tinged green. Even so, he found her eyes particularly astounding.

                “Izara, we won’t be able to get there too quickly if we stay like this. Would you mind changing with me?” She asked, and Izara thought it was funny. There weren’t many people that would actually ask before changing, but she had already said that she was a Mystic, and most Mystics that bothered to talk to Radmund were often known for isolating themselves so she wouldn’t know better.

                It was a strange habit, for those who were the most connected to their ancestors, most spiritually inclined, most in touch with the magical aspect of their nature, to want to do something so out of their nature as live alone.

                “Sure, I mean of course,” Izara answered, and she nodded and smiled back at him, appearing absolutely pleased before changing forms.

                She was a black wolf, her fur sleek and shining, and he admired her. When he changed into his wolf form his fur was almost scruffy and messy though anyone who wasn’t a Lyalltine might find him elegant all the same. Reddish fur was well sought after, but most outside of his community who was ‘seeking’ a particular kind of wolf over another were most likely the kinds of people that didn’t see Lyalltines as people, to begin with.

                Changing forms was like breathing to Lyalltines, like water traveling down a stream. They could change back and forth whenever they pleased. Many said, the Mystics the highest of them, that Lyalltines were created into the world as wolves before Radmund blessed them with their ability to change into humans, and Lyalltines often considered this to be an undeniable fact. A Lyalltine, after all, would become a wolf again whenever they died, no matter how they died.

                Izara chased after Loro as they drew closer to the forest, watching her prance and dance through the grass and the bushes and other things in her way with a sort of a carefree demeanor that he admired and considered an essential part of his own personality. He wasn’t even sure if she was actually leading him to where she said she was or if this was just an excuse for him to spend time with her after she spent so much time watching him from a distance. He guessed both, especially if her parents were Mystics like her which he didn’t doubt.

                Paw by paw she led him into the sacred forest. It was more of a name for it, really, rather than anything weighty. There were few reasons why he would actually get into trouble if he got caught here without her or even with her, so he wasn’t really ill at ease following her. He delighted in it, actually, as he had been hoping for someone new to spend time with, really. It wasn’t that his current friends weren’t good enough, but simply that they weren’t always on the same wavelength as him.

                He had gotten so caught up in following her that he really wasn’t paying attention to his surroundings. He wasn’t expecting anyone else to be here, and so when a big black wolf, twice her size at least, appeared on the path between them he paused and cowered back, his tail reflexively going between his legs. The wolf almost didn’t seem real, his fur too black, his eyes too sharp, like twin moons piercing into him.

                “What are you doing with my daughter?” The wolf asked, his eyes narrowing before widening as the latter seemed the more threatening. He spoke in the wolf language, and if there were any people around who weren’t Lyalltines or didn’t understand wolves, in general, they wouldn’t have been able to comprehend anything exchanged between them.

                “She was taking me to see Radmund,” he explained. “We weren’t doing anything wrong.” His father always told him to stand up tall and keep his tail held high, but he didn’t feel as if that was something he should be doing with this unearthly wolf. It felt too arrogant, even for a man--or wolf--like his father that tended to show respect to no one who hadn’t already given him a solid beating.

                “Then you should have found a Mystic like me to take you, not a young girl like my daughter,” he growled. Izara considered telling him that Loro was the one that approached him first, but he really didn’t want to get her in trouble.
                Instead, he said, “I wanted her to take me because we’re closer in age and I knew I would have nothing to fear from her.” He said it boldly, pointedly, “rather than a wolf that would deem himself more experienced than me and thus more willing to say that I can’t.”
                “What do you mean?” the threatening figure grumbled.

                “Do you ever think gods get lonely?” Izara continued. “People are always praying to them, but no one thinks to prayer with them.”
                He tried to look past the figure but realized that he couldn’t see anything past it. At first, he thought that Loro had run away, but then he began to realize something else.
                “I can’t imagine what you’re going on about, but I’m not so foolish as to think that’s your reason for going with my daughter alone,” the dark figure growled.
                “Perhaps so, but you’ll have to talk to me in person if you have a problem with it,” he answered, and mustering all his courage and his hopes that the spell was what he thought it was and nothing more, he simply went through it. There was a snarl of anger, but the moment Izara passed through the image disappeared, and Loro approached him, wagging her tail.

                “That was rather smart of you,” she said. “I knew I found a suitable companion.”
                “Was that you?” Izara said dumbly, wondering if she was testing him this whole time. “No, wait. That was your dad. That’s what he said, right?”

                “That’s right,” she answered, bumping against his shoulder and turning to find the path again. “We better hurry if we want to get close enough to Red for my dad not to find us again. I think he might actually come looking for you after you did something like that. He’s not used to being treated that way.”
                “And why’s that? Because he lives away from everyone else?” Izara asked airily.
                She paused in her stride, and he paused as well, realizing how rude it sounded towards her also. She then kept walking as if it didn’t bother her and explained, “My dad is Lerezi Faewulf. Of course, he’s going to be a bit upset about being talked to that way by someone as lanky as you.”
                Izara appeared surprised, and then amused, his mouth opening a bit as he darted ahead just a little before letting her retake the lead. “I didn’t know your dad was one of the most influential wolves in--”
                The word for their country, particularly the island since mostly only Lyalltines lived there, was often pronounced in the way that only wolves could say, or people able to speak like wolves. The translation for the few that spoke of it that weren’t Lyalltines was ‘Wolfholm’. A bit straightforward, but it was an accurate way to describe it.

                “Yeah,” she answered. “He’s going to be a bit bothered that you didn’t pay him the proper respects,” she told him.

                “I’ll pay it when he talks to me in person rather than to illusions,” he answered plainly. She laughed in the way that wolves do before bumping into him again playfully, wagging her tail and running ahead for him to chase her again.

I sometimes like to joke and say that I fell in love with your dad before I fell in love with you, but that’s not true. Only saying that I loved you before I really knew you wouldn’t be fair either.

Author's Note

If there is any major writing errors, such as grammar or wording that I missed, feel free to point it out though I would prefer specific over vague tips.
I'll accept just about anything as long as it's constructive. I suppose I'll accept simple praise as well as that's always nice.
I don't know if I'll be focusing entirely on this or another, but I do intend to finish this eventually even if I do end up working on other projects first.

Reviews

[Akash gaikwad]

I was totally in imagination while reading really really a good read. Please write a second chapter. I don't have much to give you but rather learn from you. Also I am fan of wolf's stories. I am sure you might have watched wolf's rain? Thank you for sharing this story.

[WolfDurican]

Thank you so much for your comment! It really does help motivate me to write more.
(I have seen Wolf's Rain and I'm of the opinion that there needs to be more good works depicting wovles.)