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« Thread Started on Apr 11, 2008, 6:59pm » | |
The Night of The Eclipse
We share these lands you see before you with blood and teeth. Beautiful, sky-loving mountains jut from the earth, pines, oaks, and maples merge into the forest, rivers wider than one could swim mar the land. In the morn’ all could watch the sun peak over top of the ice caps and for a moment all would be at peace watching the warm streaks of gold and maroon batter the twilight sky in a most dazzling display. Especially was the beauty obvious from the lands of the southern pack that lived up in those godly mountains. From their cave one could see the tiny rainbows breaking out of the ice to dance for but a moment upon the snowy canvas that was repainted every eve.
All were intoxicated with the taste of blood, thus war was all too common. There was no reason behind the fighting, it had always been this way yet some how we prevailed. No pack fell due to loss of numbers, no pack grew too young, no pack completely destroyed the other. We lived in harmonious war, if ever there could be such a thing. Little by little, however, the numbers began to decrease due to different situations in each pack. Perhaps it was because we found the way of harmonious war or perhaps it was just our time to pass, but for whatever reason all began to fail.
It began in the East upon the sandy beaches on one of the most dismal days of spring. The air was thick and heavy, rain poured like an avalanche from an endless waterfall, and all eyes were wearily watching the tide of the ocean ebb steadily closer. These worried eyes watched more than just the shifting tide, they were trained upon the endless fog from which they hoped to see those members lost to the hunt returning. A group of four had left three days ago and still they had not returned in their search for food. One by one hopes began to die for they feared their brethren had been swept away by the storm, yet the alpha female never gave up hope even when her alpha reluctantly spoke that it was no use to continue to watch for them.
‘It must be night fall,’ she had thought to herself, her deep brown eyes straining to catch even the tiniest glimpse of movement from within the fog. Everything was dark, she wasn’t even able to decipher a vague object in the sky that she could hope to be the moon high above. Upon her tongue she could almost taste the despair steaming from the rest of the pack, though she had little worry over their conscience. Many had fallen before; they would get over it. Just as her mind was drifting off she spotted a disturbance in the fog causing her breath to come to a sudden halt. Predator or pack? Hackles on edge she rose and called out to the fog, receiving no answer at first but soon the grinning face of her four lost pack members trotted into view, a large carcass drug between the toughest.
By the time they had reached the hunting grounds fog had set in, forcing them to turn tail to come home but, quite obvious by their delay, the four became lost upon the beaches; however, this proved not to be such a bad trek. A large carcass of some marine animal had washed upon the shore and they were able to salvage most of it to bring back home. For three days they feasted as the storm rolled past, every last wolf getting his share of this most mysterious meal.
Next to begin their fall was the Northern Pack, though their day was not quite so dismal. To the east dark clouds billowed from the sea but the sky above the northern lands was clear, save for a few stragglers still attempting to make it to the rest of the storm before the day’s end. Unlike the pack to the east, this northern pack hunted as one. From the eldest of wolves to the pups that had just aged a year; all were encouraged to join the journey for a meal. In all there were fifteen wolves prowling the northern lands in lengthening, powerful, courageous strides. Their claws formed furrows in the earth and their howls were unmasked from their prey for this pack was fearless. They knew they could out muscle any deer that crossed their path, therefore, they had no reason to creep silently from tree to tree.
Unwilling to miss a second of the hunt, a young wolf pup just shy of his second year pranced proudly near the front of the pack. No one bothered to tell him to move back, no one bothered to tell him to watch and learn; not even the alpha was concerned about the little one in the front lines. For three hours the pack trod on in a fruitless search for a meal and the group soon stopped by the river separating the northern and eastern packs. Tired paws were dipped into the river as concerned murmurs flittered about. That young, bold pup sat on the edge of the ring, ears trained to hear every word spoken. ‘Maybe the deer are hiding,’ the young one had thought, his little mind ticking away at the endless possibilities. It seemed that most of the elder wolves had similar ideas thus the pack split up to track down the deer they knew hid so well.
Three full days of a fruitless search finally came to a halt when a large herd of deer was heard stampeding across the meadow. All at once the pack gave chase, their stomachs painfully egging them on. As they drew closer several deer lashed out with their hind legs, striking down three wolves immediately. None looked back to the fallen for they were too intent upon the chase to worry about a few busted chins and heads. Right in front darted the young pup, eyes carefully shifting from deer to deer trying to figure out which would be the easiest to attack. Before them raged wild rapids and with every step the pack drove the last of the northern deer toward the white water, hunger in their eyes.
The mountainous pack to the south was no exception to the strange happenings preparing to turn on the wolves of the land. From the east a storm was rolling in yet it had not completely settled over the rocky earth. No one seemed worried over the gathering storm for it was still in its youthful stages. High above the sun was still dancing in all its mocking, golden glory, unaffected by the incoming storm, which provided the perfect opportunity for the pack to stretch out upon the warm rocks and soak up the sun. Each had their own place on the side of the mountain to curl up; if a bird happened to pass over the scene they might have suspected a massive massacre for none of the four-legged bodies moved during the soak.
Two hours passed before a single body began to move, a striking gray female with eyes of sparking amber that seemed to sense something amiss in the air. Upon the tip of her snout that ebony nose twitched and soon gave rise to the rest of her body following its lead. Around masses, over tails, and under menacing threats she traveled until she stood firmly at the very edge of the mountain looking down over the path that led between the great, rocky forms. There seemed to be something moving down there, glimmering in the fading sun yet she could not figure out what it could have been. Eventually the two alphas and another pack member along with the gray female traveled down the side of the mountain until they could see clearly what had been fooling them from so far up: Water.
After returning to the pack the four conversed with several of the elder wolves, who—like the young ones—had never seen water run down the path as it was doing so now, not even after a hard rain. ‘Perhaps one of the lakes to the west has overflown.’ Although the female thought it she dared not to speak of such a ridiculous idea. There hadn’t been a large rainfall for two weeks and a small skirmish had been held at the mountain pass between the Southern and Western packs a few days ago; the land was dry before they had begun. Soon enough the on the water had caught the attention of the whole Southern pack. Every wolf sat on the edge of the largest cliff to keep an eye on the slowly rising water and for three days this continued. ‘Could the ice be melting?’ The female wondered in disbelief.
Among the rolling hills and vast lakes anger was rising in the Western pack due to both the new usurping alpha and his recent loss to the Southern pack a few days ago. Most of the pack against him not only because he had lost the first battle he had lead them into but also the way he had taken over the alpha position: Murder. It had been a gruesome battle, worse than even the fiercest of warriors could imagine. Blood still coated the grass on which it was held and the old alpha’s body was still on display in front of the den hung upon a sapling bending on account of the new weight. Only a few supported his take over and even those few seemed leery of him on occasion, questioning his right to leadership, though they feared to turn coat.
‘Who knew it was so hard to be hated?’ From the depths of the den a pair of eyes flashed in the pale light scrutinizing every wolf that walked past him. The alpha was tense ever since they had come home from battle for there was word of an uprising against him and he was no fool for he knew good and well that he and his few supporters were far outnumbered. Why had he gone through all that trouble of killing off the old alpha only to be hated as the new? All he had wanted was to be noticed; he had come in to this land from far, far off and, although he was accepted, there was always a strange distance between him and the others. During the hunts he was usually excluded or used as a scout; after the kill he ate with the omegas; and not one female looked at him. Yesterday the old alpha’s mate had run off and two hours later her body was found by a lake: She had drowned herself.
The alpha’s thoughts were broken as a young male stood before him at the entrance to the den, his face emotionless and voice low. He had come to call the alpha out of his den and the alpha responded with the nod of his head before following the youth. Outside sat the pack split in two, the majority on the right of alpha and the minority to the left, already he could tell why they were split and which side was opposing him. Into all eyes he stared for a moment, some of them dropping their gaze while others held it firm during the entire length of the stare. ‘It won’t be long now.’ Without a word the alpha returned to the den, those that supported him tagged along too and for three days they hid in the moist cavern in the side of the hill waiting for the inevitable.
Finally came the day when all of fate’s preparation came together and in the night’s sky came a red moon;. The Night of The Eclipse had come.
In the east they began to profusely vomit due to some strange poison in the carcass the hunters found on shore. Half of the pack died from regurgitating their internals, many more died due to the disease of the many wolf corpse that lay around the den for those still alive were too weak to move the bodies. Over the next few weeks the survivors passed on.
To the north those wolves chased the deer until that fateful night, growing ever closer to that raging river. As soon as the deer caught sight of that white, rapid monster, they turned tail and trampled their pursuers. Hooves pierced mud and skull alike for never once had any seen deer to be so frightened of the mighty river, thus all were paralyzed in awe. Those that survived, starved; none in the pack new how to hunt in small groups—brute force was always the way of the Northern pack.
As the Southern pack sat in disbelief of the rising water it was only that one female that had thought of the impossible truth: The ice caps were melting. When that blood moon rose the whole pack sat on that cliff looking up and down at these two oddities. When a rumbling came from above none could dodge the sudden rockslide caused by the sudden melting and weakening of the mountainside.
To the west a civil war broken out within the pack, all wolves soon turning on each other no matter their allegiance. It didn’t take long to soak the earth in brethren blood and before the night’s end most every wolf in the pack had been stripped of his flesh and at least one body part eaten by another; they had all gone mad.
What had been the downfall of these packs? Why did the blood moon destroy them? Could they have stopped it?
These are answers never to be gained for what has been, has been and there is no reversing it. There can be change, however, in the new owners of these lands. Several years has passed since the Night of The Eclipse and now new wolves from all over are finding their way around the land as well as a few lucky survivors are still here to pass down the legend.
The only question needed to be answered now is will this new generation be able to conquer fate or will they too fall to that bloody moon?
Above us the Blood Moon hangs,
Colored to match our glimmering fangs.
Below us the soft grass oozes,
And our souls Heaven refuses.
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