Chapter Text
There is a wolf and a huntress, existing in tandem with one another
Though it may be more accurate to describe the wolf as a bird with clipped wings, disarming charm and wits enough to survive a winter completely on his own; and the huntress as a bear, steady and slow, with a hunger for blood and good kill.
She is a rock, with her bow and arrows, patience and smarts, though not nearly as compassionate as her twin, her other half, the thief,
But she never lets the animals suffer for long.
He is a hurricane of dust, soot and ash, with his claws and insults and rudimentary machines, the only other survivor of his slaughtered pack,
His sister turned against him through manipulation and lies.
She knocks an arrow on her bow, hidden behind brush as tangled and patterned as her past
And yet completely unexceptional, just like the forest around it.
He catches a fox between his teeth, and laments the fact he did not go for the kill of the moose before it was claimed by another
Deep down, he blames himself for not being fast enough. Not fast enough to save his family, and not fast enough to feed himself for another day.
She draws her bowstring taut, and whispers a small prayer under her breath
A prayer of goodwill and hope, which has never been uttered for her before.
He does not hear her voice, or sense her presence
Instead, he places the fox down at the base of a tree, despite his first instinct to snap its neck on the spot.
No, he will let it suffer, for he has not, and never will be a good soul.
She lines up a shot with precision enough to put professionals to shame
After all, when you hunt to survive, you get much better at it then others.
The arrow whistles quietly through the wind, and it is too late
He hears, but has no time to react
Too slow.
Always too slow.
It pierces his side, and a second, his left paw
He howls in pain, teeth bared and eyes wild as he turned from his prey to the bush she hid with unnatural perception
The huntress steps back
The wolf lunges
His wounds burn, but they are welcome
A distraction from the dead cold which has seeped from the ground directly into his bones
She knocks another arrow and shoots
Red covered glittering white
Blood seeped into the snow
The arrow pierced his heart
And he fell to the ground in agony
The pain, anger and thirst for blood and vengeance bled from him as did his lifeblood
He thought, at one point, when the time came he would welcome death
He was just so tired
But now, he would give anything to be brought back to life
And so the huntress sat next to him in the snow, and took a paw of his in her hand and spoke so softly to the broken soul,
“Come back to me, darling. Take off the mask.”
Then the fog was lifted.
The soot, and ash and destruction led in his wake slowly receded from his eyesight
And behind the huntress, he saw his sister
His sister who looked shocked, piteous and confused, but with hope in her eyes and the scent of ‘family’ radiating from her lanky form
His family stood behind her as well
Not one of blood, but one of bond
Five people with hope in their eyes and heartbreak on their minds
And the huntress enveloped him, whispering sweet nothings into his ear which at any other point he would have shaken off and deemed them useless
But not now
Because now
He was human again.