Blood Moon

by The_Darker_Fonts

Chapter 7: The Kin

The seasons passed away before him without meaning. In the spring was hunting time, when one would come out of the cavern and feast on the newborn prey, or wandering mammals searching for mates. In the summer one must find the winding river in the forest to hunt animals looking for fresh water to drink and cool off in. Autumn meant the onset of winter, so he would hunt in the rivers for fish and the tamer forests for mammals preparing for hibernation. They were always the best ones, the ones fattening themselves up for the cold and sleep. He himself began to hibernate during the cold season, finding it too stressful to stay fed in the cave.

His diet morphed into that of meat, plants becoming poisonous to consume, and a terrible pain in his stomach. Meat was a much tastier substitute, especially that of the deer and rabbits that inhabited the calmer forest. There was a clear distinction that his forest was the wild, untamed one, and their forest was the calmer one that was susceptible to the seasons. It was only right that he mustn't hunt in his home, but in the forest of his prey. If prey inhabited his home, then it was not truly his, and not a place he would bear to live in.

He didn’t know why he’d become so defensive of his home as of late, but he soon realized the reason. He could faintly smell the scent of others that lived within and around the wild and tame forests. He didn’t like that. Oftentimes, he would feel that he was being watched by the unidentified strangers, and would growl at the nearby shadows. There wasn’t anything there most of the time, and rare moments when there were, it was some small flying creature he would snap at. Still, he took precautions to defend his home. He would cover his tracks and scent with mud or moss, and learned to enclose the entrances of his cave with twigs from the wild forest.

Three times the cycle of seasons past, three times since he had arrived in this new haven. There was nothing to fear here but lack of food and the strangers, but neither presented themselves as a problem. They seemed to know of his existence, even going so far as to attempt to search him out, but never would they find him. He was too smart and too quick to be found. His mind grew as his body did, and soon both very much resembled the creature that had blessed him with this strange but welcoming form.

He was often drawn back to the road, staring at it. More and more it began to be seen as a threat. It brought ponies, wretched creatures that spoke and interacted. It was unnatural for them to be here. This was the wild. They had no right to live out here, to stretch their cobbled street across his beautiful hills and grasses. Sometimes he wished to destroy it, and he even approached it often with the intention, only to find the stone ungiving and coarse, too tough for his claws and jaws to break. Growling in defeat, he would escape into his cave.

There was, however, one thing that changed his life. One spring, the fourth cycle in, he was hunting late at night, as he’d taken to, when a strange sound shook the night air. It was a curious sound, a sound he’d never heard before. It was an animalistic call, a howl that reached out to him with an intensity of kinship. He didn’t know why, but he responded. He’d never howled before, and usually was silent in noise save for his steps, but this natural conversation of one beast to another awoke a loneliness he wished to answer. So he responded, giving a long, forlorn howl of welcome.

It was only after this call to the others that he realized this could be some sort of trap, but the deed was done. He sat back on his haunches, awaiting with his front paws firmly set in front of him. There was a sort of silence as he awaited, but soon a whole multitude of individuals responded at once. A pack of the creatures were coming to him. Licking his lips, his tail began to wag. The responses had been friendly, ones that recognized and welcomed him as another of their kin.

Soon enough, a group of shadows dashed out between the trees of a short bluff ahead, leaping down the short hills terrace. Looking back and forth between the seven or eight creatures, he began to give a low growling of welcome, ducking his head shyly as he greeted the creatures. The dim light of a waning moon barely gave light, but he had developed a more nocturnal vision as time had passed, allowing him to recognize the shadows as wolves.

They weren’t the regular kind however. They’re fur was deep grey and their faces and underbellies were a silver tone. They approached him cautiously, growling at him to stay still. He ducked licked his lips again, not particularly sure if answering the call of these wolves was the right move. They didn’t trust him, and he guessed that they might as well never. After all, this was their new hunting ground, and he was much larger than any of them. They didn’t know if he were an individual or a member of a pack, so he decided to do something close to drastic.

He began to pant happily, standing up and twirling around in a little circle playfully. The leader of the pack, a wolf with a strange patch of gray across his nose, perked up, sitting down to watch the little performance. The pack followed lead, sitting in an open circle around him. Unable to keep his tail from wagging, he gave a short rumble, pointing his nose out to the leader and deliberately sniffing. He made it clear that he now had his scent and wasn’t at all afraid of the pack, but instead he was friendly. The action also proved that he was a rogue juvenile, not the young of some nearby pack.

This seemed to be all the confirmation the pack needed to move in, losing their aggressiveness. There was a new air about them, and they pushed up against him, all identifying his scent and greeting him with perked ears and tails. He was welcome among the pack as one of their stranger young, and was now being introduced to the hunters. He found himself looking around eagerly and attempting to recognize each individual by their scent and looks. The two females in the pack were much similar, though one's tail ended in a curly fashion, while the others’ stayed straight. The remaining five were males, with the leader being distinctly older than them. In fact, the curly tailed female and four other males seemed to be the children of the straight tailed female and pack leader.

Having identified each other, the pack began to motion for him to follow them. He did so, following between the young female and two of the young males. Naturally, the alpha took lead, walking almost lazily among the forests regrowing greens. There was a great excitement from many of the younger wolves, as they hopped and trotted happily between and over trees and fallen stumps. He followed in suit, tailing a young male with a piece of his ear missing. He seemed to be the most playful of the young wolves, nipping at the heels of his siblings and pawing their tails occasionally.

They passed through a section of the river in the forest before entering the main theater of the forest, a large, flat area that was oftentimes flooded with prey of all sorts, sipping from the multitude of small ponds and streams. It was about two miles across and rounded on all sides, and was where any sensible predator would hunt. Indeed, even as they crossed over one of the many streams, he spotted a young elk trodding not even a hundred paces from the pack. They didn’t seem to care or notice, and neither did the prey. It gave them a glance and flick of the tail before simply bending back down to drink from the cool stream water.

After descending the hunting ground, he found himself facing a rather hidden hollow in a couple of overturned boulders. There was a large crevice between their bases, large enough for two of the wolves to enter at once, though considering the lycan’s larger body size, he had to enter alone. Once he’d entered, he was greeted by a series of high pitched growls and howls. Looking down and stretching his neck out, he found himself facing a total of five pups, all who were defensively positioned against the much larger creature. There was a moment of amusement from him before he bent down and gently licked one of them in a friendly fashion. It backed away, pawing its now wet cheek.

The pups retreated to their mother, the straight tailed female wolf, who greeted her pups with a lick and low growl. The alpha wagged his tail slightly at them, before instructing the pups to greet the lycan. He attempted to sit, but found that the top of their makeshift cavern was too tall, and resorted to laying down in front of the wolves. Immediately, a feisty male pup leapt at him, attacking his ear with a playful ferocity. He responded with a low growl and slow shake of the head, and soon enough, all five of the little pups were rolling on top of their new brother, hunting separate parts of his body.

Following the playtime, the pups were fed by their mother. They were old enough to eat meat, which was provided in the form of some scraps of a squirrel. It was confusing to see such a small animal being used as food, but looking around, he realized that this pack had migrated from starvation. Their skin hung loosely around their stomachs and ribs, and most concerningly, despite their playful nature toward him, they looked rather hopeless and drab.

Slowly, he realized that they hadn’t adopted him completely out of kindness, but out of desperation as well. They figured him to know the area better and know the hunting and best foods in the region. They had taken a risk, hoping that by taking him in, they would gain another food provider, and not another mouth to feed. He was juvenile, but also had managed to survive in this area alone, and rather well. Indeed, a layer of healthy skin had grown on him, and comparing it to the sagging skin of the starving wolf pack, he was much healthier and well off.

Even so, however, he could smell the faint scent of elk blood. They had eaten not even two days back, which was why they hadn’t gone after the elk they’d passed. It was also why they took the risk to accept him, he assumed. They had seen that there was a good deal of prey around the area, and there was also a much needed supply of water as well. With this, it was the perfect place for prey and predators to survive. There was no doubt in his mind that he could help the pack, his new family.

Whining at the alpha, he informed him of the hunting ground. He poked at the young to emphasize that he knew their plight, and told him of the streams most populated. The alpha reiterated his little knowledge of the area they’d adopted, and also gave him knowledge of a lesser problem. While the crevice they currently inhabited was well enough for the moment, it was susceptible to flooding by rainwater and was a danger to the pups. That, and the fact that it was rather cramped now that the new litter had been delivered, presented the problem of finding a new home.

Instantly, the solution was presented; his home in the hills. There was a freshwater stream that fed out of it, and it was also rather warm considering the cold of winter. They also had a forest to themselves for the young to grow and play in. They also had a good deal of open area to claim as their own, a lake to call their own, and were never to be threatened by any outsiders. He told all of this to the alpha, who responded thankfully to the knowledge. There was a declaration made by the alpha that they should be moving homes yet again in the morning, after the pups had rested and before noon.

That night, he slept happily, a lycan nestled next to three of the young wolves, dreaming of hunting as a pack and living with the wolves as one of their own. A deep, instinctive hunger for sociability had been sated that night, and he was soon going to be forever with his new kin.

Author's Note:

So, most of this chapter was written and edited in a day, but quite frankly, this is my favorite of the series so far. Our lone pony equally accepting himself as a lycan and living with it.

Comments

[The A I]

Awwwww, this is so cute! I love it!

[The_Darker_Fonts]

10700350
Yep. One of the pack now.