Post by vix on Sept 18, 2007 20:31:41 GMT -5
Okay, hope you like this. I've worked really hard!
Prologue
The Discovery
"Mum? Mummy?"
What was that? wondered Dewfang as she stalked silently through moist, leafy undergrowth deep in the heart of DawnMist Forest, ears pricked and head cocked to one side. Placing her nose delicately onto the cluttered forest floor, she inhaled deeply, searching for any hint of what she had just heard. She found nothing.
Dewfang was the best Hunter in her wolf pack, the Prowl Pack, and often came back from her famous solo hunting trips with so much prey, she had trouble carrying it all. But she had been on fewer hunting trips lately, solo and group alike, for she had given birth to four beautiful pups two weeks ago. Sadly, one of her pups, a charming silver male, had passed on to the Spirit Realm shortly after his birth. She and Bearclaw, her mate, along with many of her pack mates, still grieved for the death, but they all found peace of mind knowing that their tiny pack member was in a far better place. However, now that she was able, Dewfang quickly returned to her hunting ways to ease the pain of losing the poor pup. She loved the thrill of the hunt, but on this particular night, there seemed to be no prey out and about. Dewfang had simply thought that the creatures that wolves prey upon such as rabbit and deer were still in their burrows or hiding in the dense undergrowth because it was very early in the season of spring. But now she was certain that they were being frightened back into their homes by the bawling of some poor creature not far from where Dewfang now stood.
She winced as she again heard the plaintive cry, this time more pleading and exasperated.
"Mummy! MUMMY! AROOOOOOOO!"
It then started crying out desperately, howling and wailing. It unnerved Dewfang to hear the pathetic whining of the creature, calling out for its mother. It reminded her so much of her pups at home, safe in their warm nest of twigs, moss, and downy fur.
"I must find it!" Dewfang muttered under her breath. She began to move stealthily and noiselessly through the forest, the animal's howling leading her.
The loud, mournful howls subsided to soft whimpers as the poor creature weakened. To make matters worse, it had begun to rain, first as drizzle, then as a torrential downpour, soaking Dewfang’s silvery-white fur through to the skin.
***
The sound of the sobbing creature had aroused a bald eagle. He let out a screech, lofted up off of the large, knobby branch he had been perching on, and flapped his wings silently in search of his prey. He found the mewling young'un within seconds; the creature had made no move to hide itself. The eagle began to circle above his quarry.
Dewfang saw the eagle at once. Her eyes grew wide with concern. She immediately began to dash through the forest, tramping on undergrowth noisily, no longer concerned about concealing her location.
The creature, she realized, was a lot closer to her than she had originally thought. She found the little one by an old tree with a funny carving etched into it’s otherwise bare trunk, the tree her pack called The Ancient Tree of Marking, just as the eagle dived to catch his prey. The small creature gave a little yelp as it looked up to find two sets of enormous, sharp talons inches form its face.
Dewfang acted quickly. She leapt in the air and pounced on the eagle, making him lose his balance and tumble precariously to the forest floor. Within seconds, Dewfang had her vicious-looking claws embedded into the eagles's thick feathers, her teeth bared and glinting in the moonlight.
"Doon't kill me!" the eagle begged in a curious accent, suddenly sounding very small and less fierce.
"I will spare you," she replied, "If you promise never again to eat or kill any young or vulnerable creatures."
"Buut-"the eagle gulped and squirmed as Dewfang dug her claws harder into its glossy chestnut feathers. "Ookay, ookay, I woon't!"
"Say all of it," growled the gray-white wolf.
"I woon't eat oor kill any yooung oor vuulnerable creatuures!" he cried. And with that, Dewfang's claws loosened, and the shrieking eagle was released into the sky.
It was then that Dewfang discovered exactly what she had just saved. It was a young, female fox kit, about the age of Dewfang's wolf pups. The poor kit was drenched in the still pouring rain, covered in mud, and was lying on the damp forest floor. It stared wide-eyed at where the eagle had once been.
"You poor beast!" Dewfang whispered, "Scared to death and with no mother or father to protect her. Foxes are our enemies, but what type of mother, vixen or otherwise, would leave her offspring to die like this?"
She walked slowly towards the terrified fox kit, as not to frighten it.
"Come here, little one" cooed Dewfang, "I won't hurt you."
The little vixen came tentatively forwards, stumbling all the way. When she reached Dewfang, she curled up under her strong, sinewy legs.
"Mummy…" she whispered and, with a contented sigh, fell asleep, the white tip of her mud-caked tail resting on her tiny coal black nose. Dewfang gently picked up the kit by the scruff of her neck.
` "That's right, dear, "She whispered sweetly, "I'm your new mummy."
By the way: Comments are welcome!
Prologue
The Discovery
"Mum? Mummy?"
What was that? wondered Dewfang as she stalked silently through moist, leafy undergrowth deep in the heart of DawnMist Forest, ears pricked and head cocked to one side. Placing her nose delicately onto the cluttered forest floor, she inhaled deeply, searching for any hint of what she had just heard. She found nothing.
Dewfang was the best Hunter in her wolf pack, the Prowl Pack, and often came back from her famous solo hunting trips with so much prey, she had trouble carrying it all. But she had been on fewer hunting trips lately, solo and group alike, for she had given birth to four beautiful pups two weeks ago. Sadly, one of her pups, a charming silver male, had passed on to the Spirit Realm shortly after his birth. She and Bearclaw, her mate, along with many of her pack mates, still grieved for the death, but they all found peace of mind knowing that their tiny pack member was in a far better place. However, now that she was able, Dewfang quickly returned to her hunting ways to ease the pain of losing the poor pup. She loved the thrill of the hunt, but on this particular night, there seemed to be no prey out and about. Dewfang had simply thought that the creatures that wolves prey upon such as rabbit and deer were still in their burrows or hiding in the dense undergrowth because it was very early in the season of spring. But now she was certain that they were being frightened back into their homes by the bawling of some poor creature not far from where Dewfang now stood.
She winced as she again heard the plaintive cry, this time more pleading and exasperated.
"Mummy! MUMMY! AROOOOOOOO!"
It then started crying out desperately, howling and wailing. It unnerved Dewfang to hear the pathetic whining of the creature, calling out for its mother. It reminded her so much of her pups at home, safe in their warm nest of twigs, moss, and downy fur.
"I must find it!" Dewfang muttered under her breath. She began to move stealthily and noiselessly through the forest, the animal's howling leading her.
The loud, mournful howls subsided to soft whimpers as the poor creature weakened. To make matters worse, it had begun to rain, first as drizzle, then as a torrential downpour, soaking Dewfang’s silvery-white fur through to the skin.
***
The sound of the sobbing creature had aroused a bald eagle. He let out a screech, lofted up off of the large, knobby branch he had been perching on, and flapped his wings silently in search of his prey. He found the mewling young'un within seconds; the creature had made no move to hide itself. The eagle began to circle above his quarry.
Dewfang saw the eagle at once. Her eyes grew wide with concern. She immediately began to dash through the forest, tramping on undergrowth noisily, no longer concerned about concealing her location.
The creature, she realized, was a lot closer to her than she had originally thought. She found the little one by an old tree with a funny carving etched into it’s otherwise bare trunk, the tree her pack called The Ancient Tree of Marking, just as the eagle dived to catch his prey. The small creature gave a little yelp as it looked up to find two sets of enormous, sharp talons inches form its face.
Dewfang acted quickly. She leapt in the air and pounced on the eagle, making him lose his balance and tumble precariously to the forest floor. Within seconds, Dewfang had her vicious-looking claws embedded into the eagles's thick feathers, her teeth bared and glinting in the moonlight.
"Doon't kill me!" the eagle begged in a curious accent, suddenly sounding very small and less fierce.
"I will spare you," she replied, "If you promise never again to eat or kill any young or vulnerable creatures."
"Buut-"the eagle gulped and squirmed as Dewfang dug her claws harder into its glossy chestnut feathers. "Ookay, ookay, I woon't!"
"Say all of it," growled the gray-white wolf.
"I woon't eat oor kill any yooung oor vuulnerable creatuures!" he cried. And with that, Dewfang's claws loosened, and the shrieking eagle was released into the sky.
It was then that Dewfang discovered exactly what she had just saved. It was a young, female fox kit, about the age of Dewfang's wolf pups. The poor kit was drenched in the still pouring rain, covered in mud, and was lying on the damp forest floor. It stared wide-eyed at where the eagle had once been.
"You poor beast!" Dewfang whispered, "Scared to death and with no mother or father to protect her. Foxes are our enemies, but what type of mother, vixen or otherwise, would leave her offspring to die like this?"
She walked slowly towards the terrified fox kit, as not to frighten it.
"Come here, little one" cooed Dewfang, "I won't hurt you."
The little vixen came tentatively forwards, stumbling all the way. When she reached Dewfang, she curled up under her strong, sinewy legs.
"Mummy…" she whispered and, with a contented sigh, fell asleep, the white tip of her mud-caked tail resting on her tiny coal black nose. Dewfang gently picked up the kit by the scruff of her neck.
` "That's right, dear, "She whispered sweetly, "I'm your new mummy."
By the way: Comments are welcome!