Saturday, January 10, 2015

Wynter Chapter 2

Wynter had now grown to be a 12 year old pup. She wasn't much to look at. She was a wolf, her fur bright white, her eyes blue as the sea itself. 
She helped her mom with work in their little den. Despite her amount of things she wished to do, work was the first thing she had to complete. It took most of her day. She had to stop  by the river, and bring water from their. The den in which she and her mother lived was too far away from Jamaa Township to be as advanced as to have running water like some dens did. After that being her first duty she made sure her den was clean. Her mother was usually in the kitchen cooking the meat that we would buy from the nearby stores. They don't hunt for meat like some wolves do anymore, usually the omegas of her pack hunt it for her, selling it to the price varying from three hundred gems to one diamond per animal. The diamond shop had long since been torn down by an army of invading phantoms, so diamonds were literally worthless. The phantoms had about taken over jamaa almost fully, what remained were the small cities now living in segregation scared to be conquered as so Jamaa Township and many other famous places, like Coral Canyons were.
Once they ordered the meat their mother would cook it. Wynter's mother's name was Tikaani, which, in Wynter's wolf clan, meant she wolf. Wynter would sometimes help her mother cook, but her mother barked at her to stay away from the burning furnaces of fire under the pot of boiling meat. Wynter would whimper and retreat, returning to her usual jobs. Wynter's mother took a part time job as a pup-watcher of the clan, but she spent most of her time taking care of her family. Wynter carefully maintained the corn, and poured water all over the plants.
Deep into midnight, under a watchful moon, phantoms would emerge and take life away from some of the plants in her garden. Perhaps not phantoms, but definitely their magic. It was killing Jamaa, the way their darkness spread like syrup slowly swerving slowly yet effortlessly, and it sicked Wynter to see nobody cared.
Nobody except Rose.
Wynter didn't know Rose well, because for some reason Rose was a very introverted person that preferred not to speak much at all. Rose was quite pretty. Her fur was a gray color of a stormcloud. The Alphas of the clan originally named her Rolfi when she was a cub. In her clan (the Channary Clan) Rolfi meant The Moon's tears. Maybe if Rose had talked to her more often, Wynter would be close to her. Wynter did know Rose-of a sort. Rose slept in the same bedroom as Wynter. Rose used to comb Wynter's fur. Rose would also, even now, talk to her, with simple questions like How was your day? Or are you feeling well? It was never enough to know Rose very well, but Rose did reply to Wynter's questions. So far, Wynter had collected the following data:
1. Rose loves the color green
2. Wynter's father, before he died, had taught Rose some hunting skills
3. Rose wasn't allowed to hunt, she thought that unfair
4. Rose liked deer the best
5. Rose was nicknamed Rose because she once grew roses in the backyard and she loved doing it.
She hadn't learned much. Perhaps, that was okay.
Wynter ate dinner that night quickly. The soup, after eating it for many days, had lost the flavor it once possessed. Therefore, it was flavorless and bitter. Eating it quickly at least made it fun. 
Their mother after that would prepare their beds. Wynter knew mother well. She was a very beautiful and bold wolf. A moon necklace adorned her neck, one handed down from Wynter's father. Wynter and Rose stayed awake for a few minutes before drifting to sleep. Their mother would return shortly to go to sleep with her cubs, but until then they talked and discussed things.
"How are you doing, Wynter?" Rose asked under her breath.
"I'm fine, Rose." Wynter said. Her fur was highlighted by the moonlight that slipped through a small misshapen window in their room.
"Same for me." Rose replied.
"Where did you go today, Rose?"
"I have to tell you something. Don't tell mom." Rose said.
Wynter was surprised Rose could trust her. "What is it?"
"The clan beta called me in."
The Beta was the second in rank, just below the leader, the Alpha. It was very rare for Subordinate wolves like their family to be called in by a beta, who was many ranks above them. This was for sure a blessing from the great Fenrir, the god of all wolves.
"What did the Beta tell you, Rose?" 
"He....The beta...Wynter, maybe it's better you don't know. Please forget it."
"Tell me."
"The beta has been given a report from the Lead Warrior of the pack. He's noticed my skills of hunting. The lead warrior went to the beta, telling her of my ability to hunt, fight, and scavenge. The Lead Warrior wants me to join him. He wants me to leave the rank of a Subordinate wolf, and step up six ranks and become a warrior, if not, soon, a lead warrior. The beta passed on the word to the Alpha who took many weeks watching me, considering the change. The great Alpha has agreed. He said, in my choice, I can now choose to leave my rank and become a Lead Warrior."
Wynter rushed to reply, but was hushed by her mother returning. The great wolf god Fenrir had greeted their day with a blessing that was almost dangerous. What would mother think? She would react almost unpredictably. Yet Rose seemed to show no vague representation of wanting to decline. She smiled to Wynter before she went to sleep, her eyes reminding Wynter, keep it a secret. Shocked, Wynter took a while to take it in. Rose, too, leaving their family would leave only Mother and Wynter. Becoming a warrior meant no family. Only dangers of fighting other clans. And besides, you could die from fighting.
Wynter's memory of their father flashed like lightning in her mind. Fighting was exactly why he had gone. 

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