the voices of humans coming closer and closer.

“This way, hurry!” Lyya yelled, trying to get her voice into all her friend’s ears over all the chaos. She led them into a small path. The opening of the path was cleverly covered with leaves, and the bushes were thing on both sides of the path, it would be hard for anyone to notice them once they were under the cover of the bushes.

Just as the Mukhas, being the last to enter the trail, pulled the leaves back to the original position and covered up the entrance, they heard a loud ‘bang’, followed by a howl of pain, and another ‘bang’, and another, and another…

“So this’s how it sounds like…” Kirdo whispered, his eyes wide with amazement and fear.

Kirdo was handling a lot better than some others. Mista was completely freaked out, “Isn’t that only appear in myths?” She moaned weakly and ran away. “I’ll get her.” Mukhas said, he frowned as his looked at Lyya, and ran after the red wolf.

An anguish roar flew through the air, and for a second, Balto thought Karani had escaped and found them, but he soon realized the roar came out from Rokal.

“Savage they may be, but they do not deserve such death without honor! Lyya!” he spoke with fury in his eyes, directed at the white wolf.

“So, you would prefer being their prey, than to be rid of them in a clever way?” Lyya countered, she seemed unsurprised, even bored, as if she already predicted this conversation but was unable to avoid it.

“Bah! You merciless demon—” Rokal began, advancing towards the white wolf aggressively. Seeing the situation was going to be very bad for the pack, Balto stepped in, “Enough stop it. We are still within the danger zone, anytime now, the hunters may find you, especially when you shouted so loud, Rokal, no offense but it’s true.”

Rokal turned to face him with his face twisted with anger, and Balto feared he might attack him. Fortunately, the old wolf’s sense of danger seemed to override his rage, “I will settle this later.” He said, and walked to the far opening of the little path, the other’s followed him hastily.

Meanwhile, the only way Siria could describe the situation she was in was: Utter horror. It’s hard enough for her weakened pack to face fourteen experienced hunting hounds without being seriously crippled. But that was not the worst; the dogs were but distraction, the true dangers were the human hunters.

In the hands of the not-so-fearsome looking creature were some demonic sticks, they certainly did not look anymore scary than those humans themselves, but the look was deceiving. All around her, Siria could see her brethren fell under the sticks’ magic? Witchcraft? Voodoo? There was no way she could help her friends, those who knew better had ran away, but she doubt the number was big.

 Something swooped past her face. she turned abruptly to the source of the projectile, and saw a human, standing at about ten yards from her, with the doomsday stick pointing at her. Without a second thought, she bolted and ducked behind a tree as she heard another ‘bang’, once the sound faded, she took off into the deep woods faster than she had ever ran in her whole life.

“Hey one of them wolves escaped!” she heard the hunter shouted to his companion.

“Leave it!” the other replied in heavy accent, “These skins on the ground can get us quite a fortune already. We take what we need, that’s the law of nature.”

Siria ran without looking back, across the forest and up to a hill, where she could take a rest and think about what happened. All my friends… lost, who survived the humans’ wrath? Sadly, even here, the winds carried the fading yelps of her pack into her ears, of course it might only be her imagination, she could no longer be sure about it. Tears filled her eyes, and she let out an emotion-filled howl, a slow, sad tone, a wolf’s dirge.

A wolf’s dirge was a very long and beautiful song, multiple wolves howled one by one, each put their memories of the deceased into their songs. Siria’s song, however, was a lonely one, for she was the only singer, singing for an entire pack. She sang on and on, determined to howl for every slain member of her pack.

A lonely song was a silent one, but it was still audible for those who paid close attention to the environ.

Not far away, Shadowfang led his pack mates and friends to his secret hideout. It was a small clearing, roughly oval in shape. Not only was this clearing hard to find, but the terrain around it was treacherous. The surrounding ground was covered in a thin layer of snow, but it did a great job in hiding the uneven ground beneath. Every step must be probed carefully, or anyone would fall easily and risk being stabbed by the sharp stones hidden under the snow. Sinister-looking bushes with thorny sterns ringed the clearing, providing physical defense, as well as a mental warning to ward away those who might want to explore the region. Even humans might find this place defensible… Balto thought as he eyed the thorns of the foliage, these natural barricades reminded him of spiked iron wires which humans used for fencing their land.

Although the Bushes seemed to surround the clearing densely, without so much as a hole fit for a mouse to pass unharmed, Shadowfang seemed to walk through them rather easily. A closer look revealed the trick: the branches of that particular part of the bushes were carefully snapped, making them easy to twist, also, the thorns were patiently picked off the stern, rendering the plants harmless.

The clearing of which Shadowfang dwelled was nothing alike to the beautiful meadow where the pack made its den, even though the sun has risen and it’s golden rays filled the clearing, there was still a thin, thin veil of mist that just refuse to dissipate. In the center stood a dead pine tree that, even dead, was taller than other trees around the clearing. The dead tree was hollow, with an opening near its root, it provided the cover Shadowfang needed if he was to rest here.

Satisfied that no one uninvited was present in the hidden den, Mukhas started rather harshly, “Lyya, do you truly understand what you have done?”

“I prevented them from ever coming back to harm us in the most efficient way, yes, I think I do understand my actions.” The white wolf-dog replied defiantly.

“But there’s no reason to condemn them to such fate!”

“Indeed!” Rokal interrupted, he was under control, but barely, “If you slay them with your own claws and fang, there will be no quarrel, but this… this is outrageous!”

“If you are measuring this in your sense of honor, then I can say no more,” Lyya grunted in obvious distaste, “For there is no way that meaningless sense can approve of my actions, even if they just saved your hides.”

“Why didn’t you tell us the full plan before you put it to use?” as soon as the words escaped him, Balto regretted asking, for he knew that none among them would ever approve such horrible plan, “We could’ve change it and make it not as deadly somehow.”

“Are you suggesting that I didn’t think this through before I make that plan? What other way is there?” Lyya snapped, “Face it, one way or another, it still requires wiping the out, and I chose most painless one at the cost of our trouble.”

“This is absurd!” Rokal exclaimed and pounced toward the direction of Lyya, and it too both Kirdo and Balto to restrain him.

 

Chapter 14: The Aftermath

Logic would argue that walking away from his pack mates right now would not be a good idea, but Shadowfang wanted some peace and his friends was not giving him some. He silently walked away from his den, none of his pack mates noticed a thing, as usual.

Once out of the concealment of his secret hideout, he headed east, with no exact destination in mind. Should I hunt down the survivors, given there are? He shook this thought off almost as soon as it crossed his mind, the Eastern War Pack, enemies to him as they were, they had suffered much in mere seconds, it was not right to harm them any further.

His sharp ears picked up a distant voice, a heartbroken one, he instantly knew to whom the voice belonged. He stood still for a second to locate the direction of the song, and darted towards it.

As he approached the source, which was the top of a hill, he could now see the singer, the identity which he predicted: Siria. He never noticed it before, but now he realized that Siria had a beautiful voice. Disturbing a dirge was to meant disrespect to the dead and an utmost insult to the singer, that was certainly not on Shadowfang’s mind, so he hid in the shadows and listened.

As the broken she-wolf mourned her pack mates one after another, Shadowfang could not help but wonder if there were any survivors. There’s got to be someone who survived the massacre, surely the must be some who escaped once the first wolf fell. He felt compelled to look for survivors, not only to make sure if they still pose a threat to his pack, but also to ease the pain of the Siria a little, though he would never admit it.

Shadowfang turned to leave and start his search, his movement was but a slight shift in the shadows, but the tip of his tail brushed against some leaves. The tiny sound of the rustling leaves reached Siria’s ears, and in a near frantic state of mind, she turned and lunged at amazing speed. Shelanded on a much surprised and unprepared Shadowfang and yelled among heavy breaths, “Don’t kill me! Don’t kill any of them!

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