Moonlight Eyes

--

Chapter One

It happened on an insignificant summer day—a day when the sun held itself high and the forest grew anxious with the anticipation of an autumn that seemed so close, and yet so distant. When the Earth seemed to hold still, and everything seemed immune to change.

It was then that Auna ventured out of her comfortable forest home. Though the trees did well to block out the sun’s unforgiving heat and a river nearby provided the serenity of two lifetimes, she had grown restless. Sometimes staying put just wasn’t easy for a wolf.

Auna stared through the undergrowth at the human’s town before her, golden eyes flashing with both curiosity and a sense of recognition. The irises, wide and bright enough to rival the harvest moon, were submersed in the depths of a course pelt of light browns and greys. A soft growl of discontent arose in the she-wolf’s chest, and she anxiously pawed the ground. In the late summer months, when food was scarce and the air was warm, it would take more than thick fur and sharp eyes to meet her needs. And it would surely take more than those gorgeous assets to have her venturing near a town of men.

The wolves were starving. The hunger drove them mad; it drove them to malnutrition and starvation, to murder and chaos, to the human cities and to untimely deaths. Auna’s pack had learned this from the past year’s experiences. In the winter months, they had reassured themselves with the idea that springtime would bring more offspring, and more food. And once the spring had bloomed around them, with little to no elk or rabbits in sight, they had comforted themselves with high hopes for summer.

And well, now that the summer was drawing to a close, their sense of hope had all but diminished to nothing. The pack had scarcely eaten in weeks. Though the clear river brought them refuge from the raging sun and cool water to wash over their parched tongues, it did little to make up for a food source that had nearly disappeared altogether. Granted, there were still small bits of food around the forest: rats and fish and the like. Although, those sources of nourishment were normally quickly gobbled up by the selfish members of Auna’s pack, who left the weak and the young to shrivel and die.

Auna’s body gave an involuntary shake. With the starvation and disaster that had befallen her pack, her once beautiful form had begun to wither away to nothing. Her once shiny, luscious pelt now clung in dull tones to her lanky, starving body. A wolf’s physique such as hers, one that had been stricken by disease and famine and pups, could not take such conditions for long. She whimpered gently, scratching at her nose with a forepaw, attempting to ignore the hunger that raged in her abdomen.

Lifting her head, the she-wolf noticed a man approaching her thicket and began to growl softly. She sunk to the ground so that her belly touched the dirt of the forest floor, ears pressing backward in submission. Any of her kind would have been ashamed to see a wolf in such a state before a human being, but she no longer cared about her status. If this is what it took to stay alive… so be it. She’d rather be a disgrace to her pack than another bleeding heap of wasted meat, left to decay on the forest floor. Though, that could have been her fate in either instance. Auna whimpered as the human drew closer to her hiding place, and she prepared to dart.

He withdrew. Auna’s ears tipped forward as he was called away by one of his kin, someone in the town. The wolf lifted her head above the underbrush. And that was when it happened. On that insignificant summer day, that was when it all began. That was when she saw him.

It was brief, shocking—the feeling that grasped the she-wolf’s stomach in that moment. It wasn’t a sensation of hunger, or sickness, or pups… Auna didn’t rightly know what it was. But it was caused by him, the creature in the distance, and that was something she did know.

He was breathtaking. Well, as breathtaking as any human could be. A tuft of shaggy brown fur fell from the crown of his head to his chin, curving around his face and falling short of his eyebrows. Auna noticed that it was longer than most human males’ fur, and yet shorter than the females’. But then… his eyes: an earthy mix of green and brown that seemed to scream of the forest. A tanned hand came up to sweep the hair from his eyes, and he grinned. If Auna hadn’t known any better, she would have sworn he had fangs.

The beautiful one continued to grin as his comrade trotted to his side. Auna noticed that the friend was a little pudgier than the gorgeous human, and hungrily licked her lips. She quickly discarded any notion of attack. Any wolf that attacked a man was insane, and insane wolves didn’t last long in the forest, especially on the edge of human society. Auna simply sat in her hiding place, kneading at the ground and whimpering in her desire.

“That wolf’s been coming around town lately—he gets closer every time,” spoke the pudgy one, scratching his round, blonde head. “Think we should take care of it?”

The other, the one that Auna had dubbed the beautiful one, paused and glanced in the direction of the forest, earthy eyes passing over the wolf’s hiding place. She cowered in the bushes, ears flat, careful to remain unnoticed and unimportant. The beautiful human only smiled and said, “It’s a female,” with an air of confidence, “And she hasn’t done anything wrong yet.”

“Yet,” said his chubby friend. “Don’t you think we should take care of it before she and the rest of her pack take out half our flock?” He glanced warily to the bushes where Auna lay.

And she knew it was her time to leave. The she-wolf, head lowered and tail between her legs, lifted herself from the ground and turned back to the woods where she belonged. She trotted away at a steady pace, making a note not to look back. She didn’t want to provoke the humans further.

You see, it wasn’t hatred or anger that Auna saw glittering in his eyes; it was fear. The wolf hadn’t understood a word of the exchange between the men (she could, after all, only comprehend one or two phrases in human tongue), but the pudgy one’s stance had said it all. And Auna, along with all other wolves, knew what happened when humans were afraid. They lashed out at their surroundings, what they feared was often destroyed… wolves often died.

Slinking back to the hopelessness of her silent forest home, Auna allowed herself one last longing look at the human village. In the time that it had rested there, on the edge of the wolves' domain, it had shown more promise and prosperity than any other realm of any other creature. Perhaps the time of the wolf truly was at an end.

An angry gurgle rose from the wolf's stomach and into her throat, a painful reminder of the hunger that had wreaked havoc on her form for months. Far enough away from the human town, she dropped to the forest floor. She lay exhausted and starving as she panted openly, allowing her tongue a taste of the warm summer wind.

Her rest didn't last long. Auna rose to her feet, shooting weary glances all around her. She didn't taste elk, nor rabbit, nor even human on the air... nothing to be anticipated with much excitement. No, she had tasted something else on the wind, another creature, one to be feared and avoided above all costs.

It was a sad age, Auna noted, where she feared and loathed her own kind.

Before she could change her position, the wolf had already discovered her. Just one, she could tell. She could hear his breathing, the way his fur brushed against trees and bushes and left a pungent scent in the air. He was closer, almost upon her...

The white wolf jumped out from behind a tree and directly into Auna's line of sight, head held high in a majestic and proud position. His silver eyes glittered in her direction, and she slowly went back down onto her belly in submission. She growled angrily to herself, sickened by her lowered status. There had been a time that her father had been the alpha male. He had reigned over the pack well, with Auna has a highly regarded and sought after wolf princess. She had loved the position.

Then this mangy scoundrel had come along.

Auna glanced up at the new, very young alpha, eyes full of contempt and silent rage. He responded to her glare with a prideful gesture of his own, lips pulled back in a toothy grin. The pompous bastard.

Auna rose from her belly and attempted to skulk away from him, but he jumped in her way. She stopped in her tracks, annoyance glittering in her golden eyes, and turned to go the other way. Again, he pounced in front of her.

Having had enough of this pup's irritating antics, Auna bristled, drew back her lips and snarled, poised for attack.

The white wolf, angered by her impudence, snarled as well, walking towards her with raging eyes. Though he was nearly twice her size, and clearly twice her strength, Auna didn't retreat. She wouldn't show a single sign of weakness in front of this rotten beast. She snarled again.

But then the alpha did something she didn't expect. Instead of attacking, he jumped upon her, rolling her over and biting the fur of her neck. Auna yipped in surprise, though she felt no pain, and fought wildly to get to her feet. The white wolf wanted something more than a fight.

He wanted pups.

Auna growled with rage, yipping and snarling as she attempted to throw the white wolf off of her. 'It's not the time,' she tried to say with her motions and whimpers, ‘I’m in no shape for it.'

But the white wolf didn't relent. Regardless of Auna's age and tormented body, he didn't draw back. He still struggled to put her in place, to selfishly take what he so desired, even though her body had already been racked by pups and starvation in the unforgiving year.

To free herself from the situation, Auna lashed out with a paw, catching the white wolf across his muzzle and sending him off of her as he yipped in surprise and anger. He shook his head violently, as if to shake off the scratches that Auna had left upon his nose.

The she-wolf jumped to her feet and snarled, snapping her jaws angrily as she kept her distance. She thought to attack the white wolf in his time of distress; she desired it greatly, to show this mangy mutt that she was superior, to teach him a lesson.

But Auna thought better of it. Snarling her hatred one last time, she turned to run, darting through the trees without a single glance back.

As the sun sank and the forest air cooled, all animals returned to the safety of their homes, silently thankful that they had lived another day. Birds returned to their nests, high above the ground where few predators could reach, and the few rabbits and mice retreated to their burrows, deep underground. The wolves returned home as well, to the center of the forest where their dens had been dug.

Auna was the last to come home that night, skulking back long after the sun had gone and the moon and stars had appeared. She crept slowly towards her kin, head and eyes lowered to avoid contact with the white wolf and those close to him. He stood nearby as Auna crawled among the pack, head held high. She could feel the heat of him as she passed, scorching her fur and skin, though he did nothing to punish her for her earlier actions. He wouldn’t let on that a puny she-wolf had gotten the better of him in a fight.

Tired and still hungry, Auna sought refuge with her mother, laying at the once matriarch’s feet. The old she-wolf, nearly blind, nuzzled her daughter, sensing the pain that she knew as well. It seemed that everyone was dying then.

Then again, it seemed that everyone had been dying ever since the terrible year had started.

In the past year’s autumn, as the humans had begun to move in and build their homes, the deer had fled and the rabbits hid. What was left of the wolves’ once plentiful food source was taken away by greedy humans, who killed without mercy or purpose. With the presence of the humans, it seemed that the entire forest had begun to die. The once mighty wolves, at the heart of the great wood, started to fall. Many fled or were driven away. Others were forced into disputes over food with larger predators like cougars and bears. Most starved to death.

Any wolves that were left over were merely left to squabble amongst themselves, to commit thievery and murder. Not even the humans, as Auna had seen, would stoop so low as to turn on their own kind.

Auna whimpered at the grim memories of the passing year, she mourned the ones lost, and the joy that had been replaced by such sorrow. Lying at her mother’s paws, she remembered her happiest moments: being a strong, wolf princess with a loyal mate, and a wonderful set of pups. The she-wolf whined once more. It seemed that all she had ever enjoyed or loved had been taken away so soon.

Hearing her father’s pounding footsteps, Auna lifted her head and regarded the elder. He carried himself like a king, though his age and status prevented him from reigning as such. In his old age, his fur had lost its luster and beautiful color, but he had retained his muscular strength and pride; it was obvious that he was the rightful alpha.

Auna whimpered softly and licked the bottom of her father’s chin respectfully, and he gently bit her nose in return. She felt the white wolf’s envious eyes on her and dropped her head to the ground meekly. Jealousy often led to murder within the pack, especially with an immature wolf as the alpha. Auna wouldn’t allow her once proud ruler of a father to be subject to such a petty fight.

As her father took his place beside her mother, and the rest of the pack had assembled obediently, the white wolf took his place at the front, facing the others. His black eyes caught the moonlight and glinted mysteriously, and his pelt shown brilliantly—the only time such a rotten animal could appear so beautiful.

The alpha raised his head, pointing his noise majestically towards the sky as his lips parted and released a bellowing howl. The sound was melodic, and it echoed through the silent forest for miles. Each note was long and full of voice and emotion. The howl sang of his pride and honor of being the alpha, of his place on the mighty Earth, reigning as a great king. It was a selfish song.

After a long moment, the rest of the pack joined in, beginning each of their songs slowly and cautiously. None wanted to interrupt the white wolf’s regal voice, but no wolf would ever prefer silence over song. Auna’s mother and father joined in together, crooning in unison, a soft and subdued melody that sang of their old age and wisdom. Other wolves began their songs as well, some were gentle echoes of peace and humility, others throaty roars of glory and conquest over tribulations.

Auna was the last to join the great howl. As she observed the others, sitting humbly beside her mother, she felt distant, a foreigner amongst her own kind. The pack had changed and shriveled so much since she had been born to it; she possessed no desire to sing with a pack of strangers.

But, at last, Auna felt the inspiration for her howl, rising in her heart and coursing through her lungs and throat until it escaped her lips. Her song was deep and melancholic; it carried the weight of her sadness and suffering all the way to the moon, covering the forest with her grief.

The pack’s howl continued long into the night, the pitches blending together in a soft forest chorus. One by one, the pack members withdrew from the song and retreated to their dens for a rest, until only Auna and the white wolf were left. Late into the night, when the moon had almost left the sky, the alpha ended his howl, licking his lips lustily at Auna before laying down for sleep.

The she-wolf continued her howl long after the white wolf had gone. She no longer sang of sadness, of all she had lost and missed so desperately, but rather of how she would change, what she would do to rid herself of such hardship. With determination in her heart and strength in her song, Auna settled down for sleep. The moon laid itself down with her, and all the forest plunged into sweet darkness.