The Cold (Part 3)

Airek gave up on the wolf when he sensed he was being hunted. He turned his head toward the nearby village, then turned back to the wolf. "I'll be back for you." he told the wolf, staring at his eyes. He carved a small slit on the wolf's back, to mark it, then he put hand over it and cast some dark magecraft, making sure the wound would not heal. He got up. The wolf hadn't moved in some time. He heard talking, and without hesitating, he jumped away into the shadows, waiting to see his intruders.

Luko felt almost immediate relief when the demon tailless had gone, but a persistent pain was jolting through him, the blood trickling lightly from his back. Whining, he turned his head and tried to lick the wound, but it was useless. It was times like this when he regretted becoming a lone wolf, but it was far too late to go back now. Standing, shakily, he peered through the trees and saw nothing. He gave a long, mournful howl to the forest, asking it to help him.

Airek stayed in his hiding spot some ways away from the wolf. It howled a shaky, cub-like howl. He wanted to see what the hunters looked like, so he waited patiently. He saw a figure jogging toward the wolf. He needed to be closer. Quietly, Airek moved toward another bush, closer to the hunters. He was afraid of them catching his demon scent, so he didn't dare get too close.

He finally saw the one that jogged up the hill. He'd seen what he needed to, so he ran off. That hunter would be his next target. He laughed to himself. This job won't be hard at all, he thought.




The demon feeling was gone now, but Jakar had seen someone run through the trees a moment before. As he and Asmeen drew closer, a wolf and boy came into view. The wolf had a deep gash in it's back and was howling sadly. The boy must be one of the New-Land people, thought Jakar. He approached the boy, beckoning to Asmeen.

"Greetings, we come from the Hot Red Land." he said, holding out his browned hand.

Asmeen jumped high in her traditional tribe's greeting. She looked to Jakar and then the cold-land boy. She then added her own statement to Jakar's, "May your blood run true. We come, not of ill-design, but instead in open of the situation." The first part was the Lion tribe's official greeting and the last was her own part- very formal from nervousness. She extended her own black-as-night skinned hand to the foreigner as Jakar had done.

Cyrun had followed Sayth to the wolf, he was sad, but she didn't show she knew. Shortly after they had arrived, a girl and a boy stepped out and she hid behind a tree–out of view but in earshot. After signalling to Sayth that she was there, with there sparrow signal–adding a low dip in the middle that a sparrow normally never does–she waited, hoping the strangers hadn't noticed the change in tune. The strangers said they were from the hot red land, she'd never met anyone from there before.

Sayth looked curiously at the dark skinned people, he knew Cyrun was there, he had heard their signal, but he wisely resisted acknowledging her presence with the strangers watching him. He took both the brown boy and girls hand and clasped each one in turn then, letting go, made the sign of friendship.

"I'm Sayth, Lynx Clan," he knelt down to tend to the wolf's wound, letting it sniff his hand before touching it. "You look very cold, do you want to come to the clan meet to get some suitable clothes," he smiled, then beckoned at Cyrun to come, they seemed friendly.

"Very much so!" Asmeen exclaimed, forgetting herself. She cringed remembering that these people with the intelligent-looking beast might not be safe. She stepped behind Jakar, embarrassed at not respectfully waiting for his answer. In her tribe, the children waited for the adults to make decisions.

Sayth smiled, but I seemed that the younger one wouldn't do anything until the older dark-skin had made a decision. He didn't want to offend anyone but he didn't think they should wait.

"It may not be the way in your clans, but here we try to get moving as soon as possible," then he laughed to let them know he was making a joke, "And try to avoid evil laughs at all costs. Shall we go, it's north so it will get colder before it gets warmer."

He called to Cyrun, "Are you coming?" then stroked the wolf.

The Cold (Part 2)

Cyrun, was hunting when she heard that evil laugh again, she'd heard it 3 moons before, but this time it was louder, closer. She raised her hand to the bear fur on her shoulder, and a shiver ran up her spine. She'd hate to come face to face with the person who owned the laugh, that horrid, bone shaking laugh. She was alone, as she didn't fit in with the others in her clan; only the mage seemed to take any liking to her. She tried to make friends at clan meets and she found success at times, but not often.

As Cyrun was about to go back, empty-handed, a rabbit sped past her. It was fast, but she was faster. The lush oak spear, with a blue-slate head, came down; and the rabbit was no more. She flung it over her shoulder, said thank you to its spirit, and went back to camp.

Sayth sat in a tree, watching Cyrun. The girl obviously couldn't see him, hidden in all the leaves. She had caught a rabbit and was now making her way back to the camp. She was very pretty and he wanted to talk to her but he knew she may not hold a liking for him. He was also afraid she would be one of those horrible people, the kind you didn’t know to be horrible until you got to know them.

His thoughts drifted back to the laugh they had heard. That laugh had scared him and Cyrun seemed to know what it was. He jumped down from the tree, landing lightly on his feet.

"Cyrun," he called jogging to catch up with her, "Do you know what that laugh was."

Cyrun, had hoped that Sayth had seen her catch–she was proud of it–and if he'd seen it he might have been impressed? He was the only friend she had, and the one she secretly liked, a lot. When he ran up to her and asked her about the laugh, she got all flustered and hot, Hoping she hadn't gone red, she replied.

"Umm, well... Hi! I saw this man three moons ago, near a fire, and he did the same laugh, he looked evil, and I could feel the presence of a demons near him, but... I don't know what he's up too, shall we go see?"

She was excited about the idea of going to seek this strange man, and even more so to find an excuse to be with Sayth. They had met at a clan meet last summer, and had been friends ever since.

Sayth smiled. It seems that Cyrun likes me a little, he thought, but maybe that was just his heart hoping she felt the same as he.

"Alright, let's go and fin..." a mournful howl interrupted him, His eyes, almost at once, filled with tears, but he couldn't let Cyrun see him cry. He rubbed the moisture from his eyes and quickly made up his mind.

"We need to find the owner of that howl," he said, hoping his voice wouldn’t betray him with a quiver, "Come on." He started to jog, hoping Cyrun would follow.




Asmeen shivered. She was freezing in her tribal clothes, designed for the heat of the Lion lands. She turned to her companion, "So, are you sure we're not lost?"

"Just, shut up!" Jakar retorted. "I know exactly where we are..." He was getting annoyed, they had been walking through the foreign forest for nearlly a day and he was hungry. He was just about to sit down when he spotted something ahead. As he strained to see, an evil laugh rang up through the trees.

Asmeen, on edge, turned to Jakar. 'What was that?' She whispered, thinking of demons.