Fera Bestia

[Sale Bête]

  

[The Wolf and the Warden]

[x] 

Once upon a time, in the age after the fall of the King of Beasts, there was a forest. In that forest was a Den. And in that Den waited a Wolf. 
Black was her hide, marked by the hands of others in blood and white ash and coal, and dark and bitter was her Bleeding Heart.

She waited there for a Promise. At times, as she waited, she would leave to walk among the Realms of Men with a young woman’s face - concealing her hide, her claws, and her teeth beneath glamour, under a face that had once been hers but was no longer. The Wolf walked among the edges of their streets, skulked at the edges of their squares.

It came that one day a Great Commander of Men held celebration in the City of the Golden Grasses. All across the Realms of Men they came to gather at the City’s keep; fey, noble faces from the Griever’s Glade; the Fiery General’s soldiers from the eastern, snowy peaks; fair shepherds from Winged Mother’s Plain; even the Scholars of the Shaded Grove were in attendance.

As was the Wolf. 

Her claws beneath gloves, her hide beneath polished armor, and her teeth behind that young woman’s face she wore. She came to give honor to that Great Commander of Men, but spied among the ranks of the celebration prey to suit her amusement - for along the wall stood a Warden. A Warden of the Ways Between, so well appointed and among the Nobility of Men.

And so the Wolf took to her sport, to approach this Warden, extend her hand, and offer him a dance. To cunningly play the part of one of their kind. He accepted, and the two wove among the other dancers. As their swaying ceased the Warden moved to kiss her hand, as Nobles of Men often do. Thus did the Wolf’s guise slip; she bore her teeth at him in threat, in wild warning.

The Warden was moved to apology. There was no fear, nor indignation to see the flash of fangs. Thus did the Wolf part in confusion, her sport so spoiled.

---

The Wolf returned to her Den, but this was not the last she saw of the Warden. The Hunter became Hunted as he sought her among the wilds. He did not seek her in her lonely Den to bring ruin. Unto her he brought offerings. Gifts of flesh from bested beasts, wreaths of the brightest flowers in rich reds and golds. For many days he returned, leaving these offerings, and one day he stood at the opening to her Burrow to speak:


“O’ Great Wolf! I know you do not care for the Realms of Men, but I would join your Hunt! Would you allow me this Honor?”


Yet there was only an echo. 
The Wolf made no reply. 


The Warden, not dissuaded by silence, continued to return. With offerings, with gifts. To speak, and to give companionship.


As she withdrew further from the Realms of Men, he returned.

As ill hands fettered her, and as those hands then grew slack in death, he returned.

As she succumbed to fits of bile and wroth bitterness, still he returned.


Then it came to pass that the Warden had to make his leave. A dangerous journey to the Realms Beyond, but he swore that he would return as he had in times before. To her he said:

“Though I must go now, I will return. When I do I will help to see your last fetters broken.”


How often that she had been asked to wait!

How often she had been promised returns and reunions!

 

How often she had been promised her Freedom! 

But so the Wolf did wait.


Time did pass, and the seasons changed, but no sooner did the Warden hold true to his word. He returned, as he promised, and stood once more at the entrance to her Den. Battered and injured so grievously he knelt there into a pool of his own blood, and it was there he called out:


“O’, Great Wolf of the Bleeding Heart! I have returned. I have returned, and we will see the last of your fetters broken as I so swore.”


From the Den she did emerge to stand before the Warden, a predator before kneeling prey. Her jaws open, the horrid flash of teeth, the fetid breath of prey’s end!

She did not bite. She did not devour.

Instead, the Wolf lowered her head before him and opened her jaws to speak her reply:


“Warden of the Realm Beyond, you who have kept your Oath. You who have Returned, time and time again. You who have not sought to fetter me, nor to cast me in your Shadow."

"I would be honored for you to join my Hunt, and that I would join yours.”


The Wolf did not forget the Oaths made to her.

The Wolf did not forget the hands that had sought to fetter her.

The Wolf did not forget that all that which come to pass as she waited.

But she left the darkness of the Den. 

The Warden departed.

And The Wolf Went Beside Him.