Luc' 6 part 1

~

The morning light was harsh on the eyes. Still too close to winter the sun never expressed its warmth well. Sir scanned the light further. The sun never reached its high height in these times either. Much like an old man. Sir shifted. His joints were old. They complained of their age, especially in the morning. When the cold reminded just how many winters had passed observed or unobserved. If the wolf-man would agree everything could be set right.

          “Zach,” he croaked down the room. It was as if he were a father calling for his son. Sir smiled grim. My son. He rolled his eyes.

          “Sir?” Zach replied from the doorway.

          “Fetch me my stick. How is the man?” Sir accepted the stick as Zach gave it to him. Zach stood up straight, hands behind his back. You’ve always taken pride in your work dear boy.

          “The man complained of his leg in the night. We gave him something for it and he slept through.”

          Something wasn’t said.

          “Sir…he’s a wolf in his heart.”

          “Is he?” Sir replied. It wasn’t that much a revelation.

          “He moans in his sleep. I had reports of him growling.”

          Sir leant down onto the stick and shuffled across the room getting himself organised. “He is both wolf and man. So long as he does no harm you should not worry.” He met Zach’s brown eyes. “I will worry about that. You have more important things to tend to.”

          “Sir,” Zach bowed his head and left.

          Such a good lad. Now, let’s see how you are. Sir pulled the hood of his cloak up and snaked from the room to the wolf-man four doors down.

          “You’re awake. Good.” he shuffled a bit across bare wood floors and sat next to the bed. The wolf-man watched him all the way across. Did he always watch? Trust needed to be earned. Clearly. “I have a proposal I would like you to consider.”

          The wolf-man raised both his eyebrows and crossed his arms over his chest. Sir noted it and moved on.

          “Stay here,” he proposed. “I will help you.”

          “Help me?”

          “Yes.”

          “How could you help me?” He sounded so surly, distasteful. His face spoke it as well. Sir set his eyes on the rise of the others’ lip. It snarled. The wolf.

          “Tell me of your wolf. Does it control you, do you control it? Are you one or splintered?” To pose but a few questions.

          The wolf-man studied him almost as though he couldn’t believe his ears. Surely someone had tried to help before. Though maybe not. Why else would a man allow a creature within him to kill without thought or mercy. Untested waters could be dangerous. How turbulent they could be was unclear. Perhaps both of them would drown beneath the waves or possibly reach a common shore.

          “The wolf doesn’t like you.”

          “Do you?” Sir fired back. He kept his face clear from any expression.

          The wolf-man went quiet. His eyes flit quickly to his leg and back to Sir’s face. The way the dark eyes seemed to take in every detail it was as if he were searching for something. He never made eye contact at all.

          “Undecided.”

          You trust more than the wolf does. With that in mind Sir told him, “Scales shift constantly in weight. Your leg should be well enough to leave the bed in a few days.” He rose. The stick was more cumbersome now each muscle remembered youth over age. Sir lifted it anyway and strode away from the chair.

Luc' 5

~

It did nothing. It was covered in web-like wrinkles and spoke of times lost, perhaps times missed. It didn’t look that threatening. Maybe it could be trusted. Not for the first time that day fear shivered through him and left a chill which stole his breath as surely as the winter’s ice. Wolf swallowed. He licked his lips. Easy, easy. The hand felt both frail against his fingers and also strong. He curled his fingers around the palm and relaxed them save for breaking the old one’s hand. He released it. Let it go free.

          Wolf raised his free leg and encircled his hands around his ankle. Laying his cheek against his knee he looked down at the bed and released his breath.

          “I have no name,” he murmured.

          The man did not reply so quickly. Wolf counted his own breaths before the man spoke again. Perhaps the man had missed his words. Why repeat them?

          “Would you like one?”

          Wolf switched his gaze to the man. The elder looked at him through a sidelong grey-blue glance. Like one?

          “What would you ask for in return?”

          In the next moment he knew without knowing why that the man wasn’t going to rush in answering anything. In some ways, that was some sort of reassurance. Though he wouldn’t be able to say why that was. “Nothing. The Fates have brought us together for a reason.”

          “The Fates?” He believes in that? In them?

          “There are three Fates.”

          “I know.”

          The man swallowed before, “What are they? If you know.”

          Wolf set his eyes on the door. “The past,” then the man, “the present,” finally he raised his eyes through the ceiling into the now dark sky, “the future.”

          The man nodded. “You are right.”

          Wolf settled his dark gaze on the bed. “Yes. I would like a name.” Instead of my description.

          “In time, we will find yours. Rest now. I will see that you have some food and we will resume this in the morning.

Luc' 4

~

A man stood at the door. Where was this? Wolf visually followed the stranger around the bed. He wore a dark cloak with the hood up. His hands were old. Are you old? The man continued around the bed and sat down not far away. An arm’s reach and they would touch. Could the man be trusted? Wolf watched him. He wasn’t really looking at him, the man. He seemed more interested in the view out of the window. Wolf studied the blanket on himself.

          “Are you thirsty?” The man said softly.

          Wolf glanced at him again. Thirsty? As the man looked at him he held out a cup. Wolf looked into the cup and at the man. Could he be trusted? I don’t know about this. Maybe sensing his unease the man raised the cup without looking at him and sipped its contents. The man handed it back. Wolf looked at the cup. Nothing odd about it at all. The man had drank from it…Wolf took it and sipped its contents. I am human he realised all at once.

          “Do you have a name?” The man asked wonderingly. Wolf didn’t answer. How many times was he going to ask himself if the man could be trusted?

          They sat in silence for great spans of time. The man never did anything. As a statue he sat and said nothing. His own leg felt covered in tiny insects making his skin crawl. To get at the itch creating the sensation and scratch it away. If I do that I’ll break the stitches. I’ll bleed. He shivered inside as something stroked softly against each of his nerves. The wolf? I hate blood.

          Just then something stirred. It broke the touch on his nerves and stitched together a string instead. It pulled him to a hand on the bed. The man’s hand. Why was it on the bed? The man still wasn’t looking. For some reason he couldn’t take his eyes off of it. He tried, several times. Each time that string pulled him back. Wolf left the hand on the bed unanswered for a time. What would it do? Nothing? Ensnare him? Wrap around his wrist should he trust it and capture him forever more. Wolf watched the hand.

Luc' 3

~

“Get me some thread and a needle please Zach’.” His memory was surely getting worse. Zach, he should have remembered that before.

          “Yes Sir.”

          Zach’ left and returned. “Are you sure it won’t wake up? I can stay.”

          “No, thank you Zach’. It’s subdued for now.” I’m sorry. It flinched and jerked its leg as the needled went in. The wolf had been calmer while the wound was cleaned. “Zach’ I will be fine. I’m sure. Please, go and get that cut looked at.”

          “Alright Sir. Good luck with it. I’ll check in later.” Zach’ left him to it.

          So, now it’s just us, what were you doing out there, killing for no reason. You didn’t even eat what you killed. Hush, hush. I know it hurts. I’m almost done.

          After it was done the wolf appeared calmer and asleep rather than knocked out. Hopefully he’d done enough work for it to remain asleep for a few hours.

          I will be in my room. Sir told it and he left.

          His room housed a wide desk. Sir stroked it as he passed. It wasn’t much bigger than a child’s. The room was pretty drab. But he liked it, it was enough. All the bricks shined black in the firelight from the hearth. Toward the back through light curtains was his bed, a table and a chest. The simple life was a good one. Sir passed through the curtains and sat on the bed. All the drapes were tied around its four posts. How long had he been called Sir? Long enough that he’d forgotten his own name. Sir raised his eyebrows. He’d lived too long. He felt old. Almost every joint creaked as much as the floorboards down below. The curtains had less wrinkles than his hands. Age hadn’t reached his face yet but it had reached his hair. You’ve aged better than expected. He told his reflection. At least his hair had gone white rather than grey. White clouds didn’t harbour as much as grey. But I feel old. Sir raised his lips and smiled. I am old. Not long now, old one. Bit more planning and maybe I can sleep at last. He planned to sleep now. To rest, not to take the long slumber without end.

          Sir replaced the hand mirror and lay on the bed. In a few hours all will be revealed.

Luc' 2

~

“There’s a wolf near,” someone said over his shoulder.

          He stood at the window watching. “I know. I see it.”

          “It looks like the wolf we’ve had reports of Sir. I’ll tell the men below to dispatch it to its maker.”

          Maybe that was the way to go. Such a waste of life. Sir found the wolf again. He raised his hand to his chin. It had killed many. It couldn’t be allowed to roam as it had. Was it on its own or did it belong to a pack? You appear lonely, wolf. Sir tilted his head. No, you’re alone. You are not lonely. He tapped his finger against his chin. There’s something about you though, wolf.

          “Wait,” he said as the young man left him What was his name? “Tell the men to bring it in if they can.” Surely the old man’s lost it, right? That was what the young man was likely thinking. Sir curved his lips upwards just a little. Most of them did of course.

          “I…yes Sir. Of course. What if it attacks?”

          “Attempted to subdue it. If they have to knock it out,” As much as I would dislike you to cause that to happen, wolf. “Then they should do so.” The young man’s breath of laughter reached his ears easily.

          “It’ll have a sore head when it wakes up,” he said as he left.

          Yes, it will. But alas I believe that will be its outcome.

~

The wolf was threatened, clearly by how much it growled and lashed out. Had they honestly brought enough men? It was huge.  Easily as big as a Great Dane.

          “You distract it. I’ll whack it on the head,” the man on his left whispered to him. He held a gun in his hand, butt forward.

          “Are you crazy? You distract and I’ll knock it out. There’s four other men. Why you picking me?”

          “You’re at sir’s beck and call aren’t you?”

          “To hell with that excuse.” If any of them made a move the wolf was going to strike. Fates its muscles quivered. If they wound any tighter surely they’d snap like a fishing reel on a big fish. Zach’ swallowed. Right. Fates save me. “Hey, stupid animal,” Zach’ growled at it, just like it growled at him. Zach’ approached. It jumped forward at him. Fates, it was big. It was too big. I can’t do this, I’m gonna die. Shit. Someone had turned a tap on and drained his blood. Zach’ fell and covered his face. Something ripped his arm. A claw? It stung and seeped around the tear and spread.

          “Hey, hey you alright Zach’?”

          “I, what?”

          “We got it.”

          “Thank the Fates.” Zach’ accepted the hand held out to him thankfully.

          “Where does sir want this beast?”

          “Up there. With him. He’s nuts.”

          The other grinned. “Come on then. We’re not hauling this thing on our own.”

Luc' 1

The mist in the forest was like the cold hand on the forest floor. It clung just like the blood did and it was wet like the dead’s tears. Wolf saw the mist just as he saw the dead below him, unimportant now it existed as it was. Wolf turned. A twig snapped somewhere in the forest and he growled low. All became quiet in the next few moments. There was no scent in the air save for what there already was. Wolf moved on and left the latest person on the ground. He should never have moved close. Wolf turned his snout back behind him. People merely got in the way.

          Morning shone through the mist as he approached the edge of the forest. He raised his snout in the air. Was there something new about? Something…that man made.

          “Daddy, daddy look! It’s a doggy. Daddy can I stroke the doggy?” A child shouted. It sounded excited.

          Wolf growled low. Attack anything. Humans were nothing and they all had to be dead. He leant forward over his front feet. If it came near…

          “Leave it alone son.”

          “But daddy…”

          “Leave it,” the adult snapped. Wolf growled louder. The man was not welcome. He had to be dead just like the other one. Wolf would kill the lot of them. How dare they exist near him? He snarled.

          “Daddy,” the child moaned.

          The man groaned from somewhere. Where was he? The man’s scent was close. It stank invading his nose. His ear flicked and turned. Something stirred near. Footsteps. The man appeared in the mist cutting a shaft in it just like the sun and like the sun something glinted in the light. Wolf tensed wound up tighter than man’s traps in the forest.

          “I’ll teach you,” the man threatened

          Everything about the man said he would come first. Have it that way would he? Wolf leapt forward. He would kill quick. Drive his teeth down and kill, then kill the child.

          In the next instant Wolf yelped. Something sharp sliced down his hind leg and he missed his target. The ache from it invaded, opening his leg and burgeoned onwards. Was the man different? There had never been a weapon before.

          “I’ll cut you again if you come near me. Stinking wolf. Get the fuck out of here,” he shouted. The object in the hand sang in the mist. A claw? Man had claws now? Doubt seeded itself in Wolf’s mind and spread its roots. As the seed burst open it flowered a fear. What was the man? “Get out of here, go,” the man bellowed. The man’s shining claw swung near Wolf’s face. It fed the flower within and new roots delved into his flesh. The man could have the area.

          Far enough from the man Wolf limped. His leg bit him each time he placed it down. Wolf whined. No choice but find somewhere and rest. Surely. He travelled further. There were people about. Rage surged through his veins as fast as his blood did and it was warming. More warming than anything else. Kill them, kill them before they could kill him.