Ol' Flint the Crow

Den of Wolves

The gravel and rocks bit into Samuel's back, making him bleed across the ground. Howling and yapping, the wolves were not gentle with him. They tore his clothes as they traveled into their dark realm. With the thunderous echoes reverberating to no end throughout the cave, Samuel noticed the tunnel was steadily opening up into a large cavern.

Another grueling yards of being dragged, Samuel saw dim lights sparkling. Twisting his body to get a better view, he saw torches made of old bones, chewed beyond recognition, and tattered clothing and fur. They were crudely constructed as if tied together without the helped nimble hands but instead by jaws. These lights illuminated the den of wolves for Samuel to gaze upon it.

Made from the claws of the wolves, the den was uneven and rough. However, it was rather marvelous, considering that it was made by the animals. Spiral columns were scratched out to support the roof from caving in. There were slopes carved from the rock that lead to a second and third story. Also, built along the paths were individual burrows with dug up dirt used as a bed. There were many of these burrows dotting the cave, but a great number of them were vacant like they had been abandoned long ago. The only ones occupied had one or two wolves at max. So it was true that the wolves were getting closer and closer to extinction, Samuel thought.

While staring at these homes, Samuel was dragged to an incline were two wolf sentries, with torches in their teeth, sat guard. Barking to the wolf sentinels, the other wolves, dragging the flute player, asked for permission to pass. Reluctantly snarling at first, one of the guards glared at the human while the second hoisted its head letting the company of wolves through.

With the back of his skull knocking against the floor as they climbed, Samuel groaned pitifully. It didn't help either that the young wolf, still scurrying next to him, yammered to her little hearts content with pride. Bounding about her elders, the juvenile's ear-piercing rumpus became so unmanageable that one of the older wolves took a swipe at her in frustration. The young creature toppled sideways. She quickly got up but started limping on her left paw. The poor pup whimpered pitifully while her attacker prepared for another swing for good measure. However, this wolf was quickly thwarted when he was hit in the ribs by a vicious kick from another wolf that happened to appear to aid of the younger.

Long and lanky but shaped like an arrow ready to fire, a dark brown wolf with long fur on its head snarled. This rendered the much bigger wolf speechless. Not daring to get up, the wolf being attacked rolled on his furry belly as the lanky one nipped at his neck to show dominance.

Watching the fight in front of him, Samuel wondered if he were witnessing the Alpha snapping at one of his subjects. However, noticing the wolf's torso, the minstrel distinctly saw eight tiny bulges sagging underneath the creature. This vicious animal protecting her young was definitely female like the youth. Thinking back, Samuel remembered that Flint had referred to the Alpha as a male; so the minstrel safely concluded that, no matter how commanding this beast was, she was not the dreaded Alpha the bird had spoken of.

Nevertheless, the female did not let that fact or even her scrawny body deter her. Biting the wolf's ear until it became bright red with blood, the female eventually let go of the whimpering creature but not before she kicked a pile of dirt in his face.

Scampering to her savior, the young wolf cuddled underneath her mother's belly and rubbed her little head against the adult's protruding breastbone. The mother kept her paw firmly planted on the ground as the attacker hobbled away while licking his injuries.

Ogling at the canines show of aggression, Samuel saw a possible chance of fleeing away since all the wolves were distracted at the moment. So in spite of his desire to stay and see what would happen next, he slithered away on all fours as stealthily as possible.