Crying Wolf - 2. Chapter 2

Skye

In careful silence, Skye pushes his slender frame deeper into the charred hollow of the lightning-struck tree. Not so much as daring to breathe, he waits as three members of the York pack pass just upwind of him.

At best they are considered rivals and at their worst… bloody murderers, and as he is still well within the marked territory of the Leed’s pack, these three are likely up to no good.

Brazen of them to venture this far past the borders, and of course, he’d be the one to find them…

Word must have spread that Arisa is enforcing a lockdown upon the city, forbidding any member of the pack from leaving its limits even at the risk of their territory being encroached on.

As pack leader, her word is law and anyone who goes against her orders will likely be meted out severe punishment, and so they were left with no recourse but to sit and quiver like a turtle in its shell.

That morning when the sentinels were busy changing over, he’d escaped out into the border forest surrounding Leeds. After all, he was only one man… and hardly anyone of note. Unlike other members of the pack who easily embrace their curse in order to wield it against the ones who’d inflicted it, Skye refused to bend to the beast.

It was far less likely that they would scent out his wolf, diluted as it was by his human form. At least that is what he’d told himself as he’d wandered through the trees as dawn's light broke over the horizon.

He hated everything about the wolf, its urges, the mindless anger it incited in him...and the blood-soaked memories of his family's throats being torn out before it had turned its fangs on him.

Somehow he’d survived where none of his other kin had lived, and every month he was forced to become that which he hated above all else when the moon hung full and heavy in the sky. Any semblance of choice stripped away, he’d be damned if this curse stole away anything else from him.

Wanderlust though...that was a human proclivity, at least that’s how Skye again made excuses for his actions in his mind. Being stuck in those city walls day in and day out, piled in on top of the same stinking dogs he saw all the fucking time was driving him mad.

‘Just a short jaunt about the countryside surely couldn’t cause any harm.’

He’d be back long before anyone could even notice that he was gone. That was several hours ago and here he was, the charred tree remains sharply digging into his back.

If he did manage to make it back alive, Arisa was going to lock him away in a cell until the next full moon. Then she’d probably skin him so she might present her wife and mate with a golden wolf skin rug.

All he had to do was stay out of sight and downwind of the group, and hopefully they’d go on their merry way. Something else appears to have grabbed their attention. Making no attempt at all to hide their presence, he could hear them loudly sniffing through the undergrowth. Their unease is heavily evident in their scent as they pause here and there to urinate on the trunks of trees as they pass.

Skye counts out the minutes as they creep slowly by, mentally willing the interlopers to return back to their own territory. After what feels like an eternity, their leader issues a sharp bark. Signaling it is time to depart, the other two waste no time taking up flank positions and follow him in the general direction of York. Once he is assured that they are truly gone, Skye takes off full speed back towards Leeds.

Death by rival wolves or death by Arisa?

At the moment both options seem equally hazardous, but if it came down to it Skye supposed he would throw himself upon the mercy of his pack Alpha.

One advantage of bearing the curse of the wolf’s bite was speed beyond anything a normal human could ever hope to attain. Even without transforming into the beast, the trees blur around Skye as he flees home to Leeds.

The atmosphere of the English wood is charged with a dominating sense of dread, made all the more obvious by the unusual silence and absence of any other forest creatures. Skye is now beginning to understand why the trio from the York pack was so on edge. Once you became accustomed to being the apex predator, it left you ill-prepared for something bigger and badder to come along.

Traces of a fading scent trail is the only evidence that something else has taken up residence in their territory. What he could still make out of it with his human nose was enough to tell Skye that he needed to hurry home...and not because of the intruders from a neighboring pack.

Could this be the reason Arisa had mandated the entire pack stay within the city limits? Just what could she be hiding…

Scoffing as he runs, Skye thought it a tad high-handed that she would issue such an order without any sort of elaboration if something that dangerous is out there.

Were they no more than children?

He can see the cityscape coming into view through the trees ahead. Slowing down, he gauges the direction of the wind while his eyes search the perimeter of the great wooden wall erected around Leeds for the presence of any passing patrols. If he is lucky it’s possible that his absence has indeed gone unnoticed, and no one is the wiser that he’s snuck out.

However, if fate is against him then he will most surely be taken into custody the moment he re-enters the city and be brought before Arisa for punishment.

In a show of optimism, Skye decides to act on the hope that nobody cares enough to notice if he wasn’t around…Now all he has to do is sneak in and act like he never left.

Long minutes pass as he watches and waits patiently, and when not a soul passes by Skye can only figure that Arisa has even gone so far as suspending patrols outside the city.

What could possibly be out here that even their tough-as-nails lead bitch would err on the side of caution?

Either this was going to make it much easier to regain entry or he was walking into his own ‘doom’. There was only one way to tell…

Using the sea of trees as cover Skye maneuvered ever closer, pausing at intervals in between just in case there was indeed a patrol. Anxiety wracked his nerves, driving him into fight or flight mode. The feeling of being hunted is impossible to shake...Whatever was out there was watching them, and it brought back horrible memories best left in the past.

If he opened that mental door there would be no coming back from it. Concentrate, man. You have far more pressing concerns to address.

The outskirts surrounding Leeds remained devoid of motion. Skye made his move, pushing himself to cross the wide-open dead zone. Ears straining to attune to his surroundings, he waits for the cry of alarm heralding his discovery. Even when he reaches the relative safety of the looming brick-faced buildings, the hunted feeling persists.

There was very little foot traffic on the usually bustling streets. Everyone else except him had apparently taken their pack leader’s orders to heart. Even within the boundaries of Leeds, Skye went to great lengths to remain in the shadows. By all accounts, there was no reason he couldn’t be out and about the city, but guilt and fear over his escape still hung heavy over his head. It wasn’t until his own door loomed before him that Skye let himself take a deep breath.

Darting across the street separating him from the safe sanctity of his home, he turns the knob of his front door. Unlocked exactly as he’d left it, Skye hurries to shut it back behind himself. Slumping against the wood, his body sags to the floor in boneless relief.

“I want to know just where the fuck you’ve been.”

The heel of a boot slams down next to his face, making him jump in fear. Green eyes glared down at him through the pitch dark interior of his entry hall. Arisa is looming over him, looking severe with her steel-grey hair, the same color of her fur, pulled back from her face in a bun. White fangs bared, she grabs the fabric of his shirtfront to drag him up to stand before her.

Skye feels himself turning white as a sheet, words hurriedly falling from his lips like water from a pump.

“I went out of the city. It was driving me mad being cooped up in these walls when you won’t even tell us why we can’t leave.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

This always happens with her, and whether it was her Elven birth or her just being plain scary, he always sang like a canary when she put him on the spot.

“I. Said. No. One. Is. To. Leave.”

Each word was clipped short and uttered on a snarl, her grip tightening under his throat.

“What’s out there that you don’t want us to know about?”

Skye wants to kick himself the instant the words leave his mouth but it is too late. Eyes narrowing to angry slits, he waits for the worst. So it comes as a great surprise when he feels her grip loosening, and visibly reining in her rage she takes a step back.

“What did you see while you were off exploring?”

“Three members of the York pack out roaming our lands while we sit in the city with our thumbs up our asses, but I have a feeling that isn’t what’s concerning you…”

“What else did you find as you willfully disregarded a direct order from your pack leader and endangered an entire city?”

Skye can hear the snapping click of her fangs as she bites out the words next to his ear. His sense of self-preservation finally comes to his rescue and he answers her swiftly and meekly.

“I saw nothing else, I swear it. Except… the intruders were acting oddly. Something had them on edge to the point that they had little care that they were encroaching on our lands, and I don’t think it was simply taking advantage of our absence.”

Arisa goes quiet, paying careful attention to his information. As pack leader, she was not only strong but also intelligent.

“That was it?”

Skye nods emphatically, his lavender eyes meeting hers head on.

“I don’t know what is out there, or why you don’t want us to know...but I saw nothing else and came home directly after they went on their way.”

Arisa pins him with an emerald glare, “I pray to all the gods that you don’t find out. Now you will say nothing of this to anyone, and stay inside the fucking city.”

Nodding in assent, Skye skitters off to the side of the hall, clearing free of the doorway so that she might use it to get out of his house. Arisa stares at him long and hard before finally taking her leave.

Picking himself up from the carpet runner of the entryway, an angry mutter escapes under his breath.

“Fucking bitch. Just letting herself into other people's houses…”

As though his words will conjure her back once more, Skye moves away from the front door, retreating further into the house. Spooked now, he can’t help but feel the need to peek around doorways as he passes through the parlor in the direction of the kitchen.

“Need a pot of tea now. Scared the bejesus out of me.”

This was unfair and he knew it. It was because of Arisa’s stalwart protection that they’d managed to eke out this small semblance of civilization that they had. He reaches up to tuck a lock of honeyed blonde hair behind his ear, continuing to curse her half-heartedly in soft tones.

He could not summon any real malice to inject his words. Without bothering to light any lamps, Skye stuffs kindling pieces of wood into the belly of the stove. A box of strike matches, definitely a luxury in these times, sits upon the counter top. Striking one with held breath he carefully sets it to the bone dry tinder.

The barest exhalation gently buffets and feeds the budding flame as it begins to lick at the wood. After watching for long drawn out minutes, it finally catches hold. Opening the side vent, he lets in oxygen to keep it going. Grabbing a kettle, Skye fills the vessel with clean water from the pitcher and adds a serving of Oolong tea leaves before setting it atop the stove.

“There’s something you are hiding from us. I just know it…”

Arms folded across his shirtfront, he leans back against the massive wooden chopping block that stood as centerpiece in his kitchen. Curiosity piqued, his blue eyes stared off into some vague spot on the wall opposite him as conjecture and theory chased round and round through his thoughts.

“What could be out there that has you so spooked, Arisa? Not just you, either. Those presumptuous pricks from the York pack, too…”

Answers are not forthcoming… Well nothing except terrible circumstances that he simply refuses to countenance as possibilities. If he were to get anything close to real answers, he’d have to take desperate measures. It was most certainly not his first choice, but he’d have to pay a visit to Lynx.

Where most other sane people had taken their choice of one of the nice abandoned houses left behind in Leeds by the dearly departed, Lynx decided he wanted to become the Barkeep. So it was within the fine walls of the White Hare you could always find Lynx, the werewolf who was as mad as a fox. If one only had the patience to sift their way through the mad drivel he was prone to expounding upon, the mad wolf was a trove of useful nuggets of information. Settling a sterling strainer atop his cup with still shaking hands, Skye removes the whistling kettle from the heat.

“Get a hold of yourself, lad. Shaking like a leaf.”

Pouring himself a good hot steaming cup, he sets the strainer aside upon the saucer before lifting the cup to his lips. The brew is bitter and strong, bringing a newfound steadiness to his nerves.

“Ahh… Nothing quite so fortifying as a cup of tea.”

Rays of sunlight struggle to fight past the closed dingy curtains doing their best to obscure the outside world from his sight. Skye didn’t like visiting the wily older wolf because there was something in his madness that hit far too close to home for his tastes.

Everyone came to terms with having been turned in their own way. Most muddled about through their daily lives, and even managed to incorporate the beast taking up residence inside them. Lynx was one of those few who was as comfortable on four paws as his own two feet. To let ‘it’ become such a commonplace thing in your life… Skye could not stop the involuntary shudder that creeped over his skin.

The night when the moon hangs heavy and full in the sky was still one too many for him. Ever the constant reminder that for the rest of his days, Skye could relive witnessing his family torn to shreds before his very eyes. Azure blue eyes look down to where the long fabric of his shirtsleeves hid the scars from view. Eyes red like blood had stalked him in the dark, grabbing him up and tossing him across the room like a ragdoll.

Skye wishes with every breath he took that the beast would have finished the job. Bleeding out upon the floorboards of his family's dining room all the while supper grew cold upon the table, he’d fully expected to find his end that night. Ten years old he’d been…

Fever had burned through his small body, and yet still death did not claim him. Only vague recollections and half memories were burned into his brain. Arisa was the first person to be hovering above him when he regained consciousness. Even ten years later, she’d aged not a day from the first time he saw her.

Word had reached the pack of his family being attacked and they brought him to her, barely hanging on by a thread. A stubborn git through and through, she loved to remind him. As the pack leader it was her responsibility to bear the burden of telling him just what he’d become. The elf turned werewolf had held him in her arms while he sobbed like a babe over what he’d become and the life he’d lost. A burdened sounding sigh escapes out past his lips before taking another long sip of tea.

“No sense in dredging up old aches. Gets you nowhere, lad.”

Ten years he’d had to come to terms with the beast. Didn’t mean he had to like it. That’s one thing he would never cave on. Which made it all the more unnerving to admit to himself that Lynx was his only recourse. Downing the rest of his cup, Skye sets it down upon the counter with a bang.

“Can’t believe I’m going to see this loon.”

Turning the latch to starve the fire before turning on his heel, he once more stalks back through the dark shadows of his house. Steps faltering as he freezes in the entry hall, he fights a battle within himself to quell the excuses that rear their ugly head.

“C’mon now, if you are going to do it now is the time. Middle of the day…more likely to catch him alone. Arisa has already chewed on your hide enough for now, so she is likely nowhere around.”

The irony was far from lost on him of the many conversations he seemed to hold with himself. Skye accepted that he was not the most… sociable creature. All those years ago he swore that the beast’s thoughts would taunt and torture him, and so he’d begun to talk to himself to drown out the monster. It was a habit that all though it earned him the few odd stares, also had drowned out the interrupting voice in his mind.

“Just go already.”

Hissing under his breath, Skye grabs a woven cap from where it hangs on a hook in the entryway. Pulling it low over his eyes, he determinedly yanks open the front door and forces his body in motion. Hands shoved in his pockets, he is partially relieved to see the streets are mostly empty.

The few that are still out and about stretching their legs, nod to me warmly as I pass. We are a close-knit group, even with the odd ducks like Lynx and myself among us. Arisa was a fair leader, and there wasn’t a single one of our number that would argue against her position.

Everyone got a fair shake when they brought their grievances before her. It was part of what made it so odd that she would pull rank and enforce a city wide lockdown. Whatever had her spooked was something that they deserved to know what was out there.

At least in his mind.

Certainly wasn’t going to tell her that though…

Sure the city was well fortified, and as long as they did as told and stayed within… Sky couldn’t argue they would be safe enough. Upon taking hold of Leeds for her own purposes, Skye was told the first thing she’d done was have every able bodied person clear part of the surrounding woodlands.

Piece by bloody piece, the pack erected the wood fence and sharpened spikes around the entirety of the city like some medieval encampment. Upon its completion, everyone to participate had received a bottle of mulled wine as thanks.

From this street level view, watching life simply go on around him, Skye could almost imagine what life may have been like before the Black Death. The White Hare lay on the other side of the city and the streets became more deserted the closer he got. At least that was one good sign.