4. Thief

The fourth chapter in Watcher of the Wolves.

            Marrok silently slipped through the forest. The sun was beginning to cast a bloody shadow on what snow he could see through the dense trees. His gray ears twitched for any sign of the squirrel’s appearance, and weak pads were frozen numb from the ice beneath his feet.

            “Why again am I doing this…” he grumbled quietly. Marrok’s eyes danced between the trees and he raised his muzzle high in to the air and took in a deep breath. The scents that came to him were mostly rough, warm bark and the cool, icy snow but the smell of squirrel was getting stronger. Tense and frustrated, Marrok muttered a sarcastic reply to his own words. “Oh yeah, because I’m SO desperate for a puny squirrel.”

            Marrok started after where the scent was strongest, but he involuntarily stepped on a twig and it snapped beneath his lean weight- despite his caving body. A squirrel- probably the one he had scented- perked its ears and glanced quickly in to his direction.

            Normally, he would have known to sit down quietly and stay silent until the squirrel came to the ground to investigate him before making a move… but Marrok was desperate. Instead of the calm maneuver he had been taught, he dashed desperately at the squirrel, knowing the branch was out of reach. He leaped up and snapped his teeth shut whenever he thought there was a chance that the squirrel or at least the stick would meet his fangs, but each time they clenched empty air.

            No, this couldn’t be happening. Marrok was finally driven wild by the hunger he had faced for the past few days. He darted at the tree’s trunk and used his teeth and claws to try and scramble on to a low branch. He managed it, tearing up both the tree and his paws. Desperate hunger drove him to continue until he reached the branch where the squirrel had been. Marrok only managed to close his front paws and teeth around the branch before it started to sway and his back legs were dropped away from the tree.

            Great! Now I’m hanging off of a tree branch that must be ten feet high.  Marrok thought silently. The branch was starting to dip dangerously, but he managed to swing himself a little until one back leg braced itself on the tree trunk and he could hoist his other leg up as if riding a horse. “This is SO not wolf-like.” He grumbled stubbornly.

            Then Marrok realized something. The squirrel had probably long gone since his dart up the tree and hanging off the branch. And he was nearly ten feet in to the air with nothing between him and the ground but some sharp sticks.

            Ouch.

            Marrok gripped the branch with his back legs and awkwardly tried to lower his front paws to the branch below, but he overestimated his strength and was sent tumbling down to the ground. Had it not been for the branch directly under him that caused Marrok to flip midair and land hard on his back, he would have fallen straight down in a free dive and broken his neck.

            That was a rather… effective landing. Marrok stubbornly flicked an ear and itched his nose with a sore paw. His back hurt a lot, but Marrok knew better than to complain. He was living in the wild, for crying out loud! He could deal with being torn alive by the horns of an elk and not survive falling out of a puny little oak?

            Exhausted, Marrok let himself slump to the ground and closed his eyes for a minute when suddenly the fresh scent of dead squirrel caught his nose… and so did the stench of a she-wolf.

            Marrok pricked his ears more curiously than cautiously. He tried to set himself up for the disappointment that this was just a passing female carrying her prey back to her den to feed her pups, but there was no milk scent on her and she was heading right towards him, according to the fact that her scent kept getting stronger.

            Marrok would have opened his eyes if exhaustion hadn’t kept him from doing so. He would have saved himself lots of trouble if he did. The she-wolf came over to him and dropped the body of her prey in front of him, just out of reach of his jaws as if to tempt him. She nibbled and took some bite marks from it, he could tell by the crunching in her jaws, and then started to strangely maul the squirrel’s body slightly as if two wolves had fought over it. He listened as she rubbed some of the squirrels blood on to her nose and then started to prod at his head. Marrok finally opened his eyes weakly and forced out a weak, “Who are you?”

            She had a beautiful body of a cinnamon color so enchanting that he bet she was the envy of the whole pack. The only other color on her was the beige-cream coloring that came from her muzzle and underbelly. Altogether, she was a fine looking wolf. Marrok stretched out his nose towards her.

            She leaped back, frowning at him, and then suddenly flew forward and rammed herself in to the tree. Her nose started to ooze blood slightly but she didn’t do anything to stop it. The she-wolf let herself collapse to the ground, and then staggered to her paws. She turned to him and muttered words that made no sense. “How do I look?”

            Marrok opened his mouth and started to say ‘beautiful’ but then broke off. He couldn’t lie. “Like you just got in a fight with a wolf that has the Sick.” He grumbled.

            Half confused by his word choice, she nodded. “Good.”

            Good?

            Confused, Marrok let his head fall back to the ground and waited to see what she did next.

            The she wolf forced herself to stand proud adding a little hint of injury from her bleeding nose, and then she let out a few weak howls that cut off abruptly. A thundering of paws against the ground and a few answering howls told Marrok that there was another wolf pack nearby. He didn’t like this. Marrok tried to stagger to his paws but a harsh look from the she wolf told him to just relax.

            And then the pack arrived.

            At the head was a young wolf that had seen about three years. He was a light gray and held his head up proudly. Beside him stood a pale russet she wolf with eyes of yellow that were gentle as a fawn’s. The rest of the pack was made up of wolves of varying hues. The leader, the one who lead the group, looked at Marrok suspiciously. He then peered over at the she wolf.

            “Who is this?” the male broke the silence with few words.

            “I-“ the she wolf coughed. “I found him trying to steal this squirrel. He killed it, and then we fought.” She weakly held up her bloody nose for all to see. “He got the best of me, but I knocked him down and took the squirrel. By law, he is a prisoner, Aatu.”

            “Lupa, you are sure of this?” Aatu spoke cautiously. “That looks like squirrel blood on him.

            Marrok suddenly realized it. She was lying to her pack leader to make herself look good! But why? He thoughtfully looked back at the female beside Aatu. Maybe she just wants to be alphess of the pack.

            Lupa took a few heavy breaths. “I’m sure, Aatu. Never would I lie to you or your beloved Daciana. Never.”

            Marrok frowned at her. “But she-“

            “Silence!” Snapped Aatu. He glared deep in to Marrok and it made the young wolf shiver just to be around him. Marrok quickly obeyed and went quiet.

            Lupa continued. “He is a thief. You know what we do to thieves.”

            “We eat them.” Aatu nodded solemnly.

            “Eat them?!?” cried Marrok, frantic with worry.

            Aatu nodded again, and muttered something to Lupa before turning away and starting back towards wherever he came from, most of the pack following. Lupa stayed behind.

            Marrok glared at her. “You framed me!”

            “You have blue eyes.” She noted softly.

            “But WHY?” Marrok wailed in anguish.

            “Your eyes- no wolf has blue eyes. None but them.” She said with disgust.

            “Who are they?” He snapped. “I have right to know, if you’re going to eat me.”

            “Don’t you know? You’re like the others- three others in our pack.” She spoke softly, almost like Lyall did when he was younger. Now, Marrok hated it.

            “What am I? Who are you? What do you want with me?” Marrok snarled.

            “You’re a Watcher.” she spoke quietly.

Author's Note

So this chapter starts to bring everything together! What do you think?