Call of Wild Wolves

The Will of the Gods

All the energy and fire left Brynn as he grimaced in pain at his already swollen wrist. Somehow, with his last fall, the whole ordeal came to an end and a new one began. A line is drawn in time that will forever mark before and after trapping the wolf.

The group has changed forever. Brynn is forever changed. He felt in his bones that they were now on a very different path than they had imagined.

He suddenly felt very tired, and he felt stupid and weak as he hugged his wound. They almost got ripped apart. The wolf lay trapped and covered in blood with his injured leg, and here he sat on the cold ground trembling and holding his arm as if a broken wrist was the worst possibility.

She tried desperately not to cry, and while she managed to grit her teeth and swallow a sob before it came out of her throat, tears welled up in her eyes and flowed down her cheeks. Maeve and Vesta were suddenly at his side, helping him stand up with his elbow.

"Hopefully just a sprain" Vesta said as she nodded to her wrist.

"Yes," Brynn choked, and he dropped his arm to the side, hoping he could

hide it altogether. He did not want others to see him like that, crying on the wrist, when just a moment ago Garan tried to sacrifice himself to save him. "It's okay."

Garan was standing by now, but his left leg was clearly in poor condition. His pants leg was torn open, and blood seeped out around the wound on his calf. He fought for

bowing, grimacing, and grunting as he did so and grabbed the bow that was now lying on the ground where Trevor was cramming it. Then, with great difficulty, he limped across the open, leaving a trail of blood from the leg he had dragged behind him.

Later, Brynn will hate himself for not helping her. He did not know what purpose he had in mind back then, but sometimes he wondered if things would be different if he showed a small kindness by giving him his body to lean on back then. However, at that moment, he was simply amazed at how quickly he crossed that space, even with that terrifying limp, he was just amazed at how fast he was, when a few minutes ago it looked like a very wide arena to be played by their drama.

When he reached the place where Vesta had once stood, he again bent over with difficulty and grasped the arrow that had been buried so deeply in the earth. Brynn turned around and saw that the missing arrow near them had broken in the commotion, the wood split and broke.

Garan let out a raucous, determined voice as he pulled an arrow from the ground. Blood started to pool around him, and under the morning light that was starting to dawn, Brynn could see that his face was fading.

With the arrow finally released, Garan stumbles a little before regaining his balance. He limped closer to the wolf, still within the thorny boundary but with his eyes spinning wildly, before tremblingly pulling the arrows in Vesta's bow.

"Garan, stop" Trevor said, raising his hand as if the force of determination could make Garan lower the bow. "It's stuck. It can't hurt us. We can still take him back to Ingram." While speaking, Trevor raised his left hand to his necklace, nervously stroking the metal with his thumb.

Garan's hand trembled so badly that his arrow was released. She shook

his head and limped a few steps closer. He took a breath and tried

release the arrow again.

"Groans!" Shouted Trevor this time, stepping closer. Garan's eyes were terrifying and threatening. Vengeances. Even after all the danger they had just faced, Trevor could not stand in front of the arrow. His voice became calm into a gentle breath and begged, "Please. We can still bring him back. We can still do right for the gods."

Garan did not listen. There was death in his eyes. If only his body cooperated better, the deed would have been done. Maeve and Vesta stood foolishly, doing nothing, as if the matter was none of their business at all. Brynn stepped forward, though the tightness in his chest made him unable to speak. He raised his hand to

imitating Trevor's hand, Garan asks to stop even though he is at a loss for words.

Finally, he arranged one whisper without a tone. "Please" he said, and this is what forced Garan to stop. He looked at her and some of the poison on his face melted into despair. His nostrils expanded as he tried to hold his chin up so as not to tremble. He had looked into his eyes many times before, but his gaze had never been so sharp.

"It almost killed you," he said hoarsely.

"Yes, right" said Cormac behind them. "Because of his reckless actions, it almost killed you both. Maybe you all."

Brynn suddenly realized that Cormac had been absent during the ordeal. Where the hell has he been? Has he been sleeping all this time? Or is he just hiding from view, watching everything unfold? Brynn was not sure which was worse.

He went further out into the open, and Brynn thought he had never looked older. His whole body reminds him of*******tired, degenerated and desperate.

"Let down his bow, Garan," continued Cormac, staring at the trapped wolf, taking on its bloody and restrained form, He walked around the wolf, keeping his distance but catching the beast from all angles. "We set out to trap him, and trap him. We'll take him back to Ingram as planned."

"That's evil, Cormac, can't you feel it?" said Garan. His voice trembled and broke as if he was about to dissolve.

"More reasons, urged Cormac. "We're going to give him back, and his death will benefit all Ingrams, not just ourselves."

Hearing this, Garan growled in a way that was no different from his quarry, but before he could say a word, his feet collapsed beneath him. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, and he fell unconscious, his hands finally loosening his grip on Vesta's bow.

Brynn, Maeve, and Vesta rushed forward to take care of him. Brynn placed his hand on Garan's pale cheek, noticing the gentle gust of steam coming out of his mouth. Maeve tore off the ragged fabric of her pants to reveal the wound underneath. Him

"Oh, Garan," Brynn said gently as she stroked her cheek. From his confinement, the wolf growled softly and lowly. Brynn didn't see it.

Vesta stood up, took out her dagger, and quickly sliced a piece of cloth from the bottom of her tunic. He threw it at Maeve who knew what to do with it. He slipped it under the foot a few inches above the wound and pulled it tight. As he did so, Garan groaned.

"Help me tighten this up" said Maeve. Brynn and Maeve both pulled a piece of cloth, and Brynn held it tight while Maeve tied the knot. "We have to take him back to camp. We can sew this."

"It's just a small scratch," Garan arranged weakly, consciousness returning to him. "No need for needles."

"Shut up" Maeve ordered."It's gonna hurt." As they struggle to make Garan stand up, the other man does not move to help.

"Where are you?" Vesta demanded Cormac who glared at her in response.

"I'm sorry for not rushing to be mauled to death with all of you fools. One has to live to drag back what is left of your body. The fact that you are all alive is a miracle!

"It's the will of the Gods" Trevor said solemnly. Vesta made a voice of disdain and raised her hand desperately. He seemed like he was going to say more but instead turned around and went to help Maeve and Brynn with Garan.

By late afternoon, Brynn finally emerged from the tent where they were tending to Garan's feet. They had stopped the bleeding, cleaned the wound, and re-stitched the flesh. Since it does not have much training in healing, stitching itself is a tedious job. Brynn and Maeve took turns doing it, with one stitch

and another one held Garan's hand and stroked his face with a cold cloth. Now, after forcing her to close her eyes, the girls left her to rest.

What Brynn saw outside squeezed his heart, and he could not say for sure why. The wolf had been dragged back to the camp, and somehow, the men managed to drag the beast into the rudimentary wooden crate at the back of the small hand cart they were carrying. It was so big that its fur stuck to the wooden bars, and the entire wagon looked like it was about to collapse under its weight.

"We should pack most of our supplies on our backs" Cormac said. Brynn averted his gaze from the wolf, the pain was too hard for him to feel. He was sitting heavily on a log near the fire, a pot of pine needle tea was already steaming.

"Have we left?" ask Maeve.

"In the morning" Trevor nodded.

Vesta, keeping the fire, scoops the tea into the cup and pushes it to Brynn. Her lips

thin, white line.

"Then, we don't bring back meat at all?" Maeve frowned.

"It's better than meat. This savage beast," Trevor spat on the ground as if he wanted to

showing his opinion of the creature, "will solve all Ingram's problems. It was the will of the Gods."

Brynn finally forced himself to look at the wolf again, to actually see. His eyes, no longer silvery in the reflection of the moon, but the darkest blue, so deep that it might be black, stared back at him. Tears that he did not understand well welled up in his eyes, and bile rose in his throat. Trembling, he sipped his tea for a long time and tried to calm the feeling that this was all so wrong.

*William*

Everything's wrong. And everything is right. William was so far from where he needed to be so far from his carefully calculated plan - yet he felt in a strange way that this was the path he was meant to take.

Whether he paid the retribution for some unknown sin or simply experienced the great obstacle set before him by the Goddess herself, he was prepared to surrender himself to her.

It's no coincidence that he's here. It was impossible - not with the scent left in the air. Trapped with the disgusting scent of another, William could always parse his scent. A scent that he could not avoid, at any price.

Surprisingly he was different from the others - part of their group, yet separated. Wrongfully

the other, and not. Warm in a cold place. Eyes open where their eyes are closed.

The pain ran through his body, yet there was nothing more cruel than the pain of seeing him suffer. She cried. To a mere wolf, he cried. He watched as he shuddered at the atrocities committed by the hands of those evil people, and he hated them.

His hatred was a ferocious beast that lived within him. It was thirst for blood and revenge. It thirsts for vengeance and forgiveness. More than anything, however, it made her thirsty.