CHAPTER 13
“THERE GOES ANOTHER MOUSE,” Lenore grumbled. She watched a blur of gray dart away into the thicket. “It’s decided then. Turning into a wolf is far easier than this.”
They’d spent hours hunting, with all of it devoted to Edmund’s attempts to train Lenore in the basics of catching prey. All of that practice only resulted in mice, squirrels, and rabbits running circles around her, a feat that Edmund had described as “so terrible that it’s impressive.”
“This all went exactly how I expected,” Edmund said.
Lenore groaned. She sank to the ground, paws thrown over her muzzle. One eye peeked out from the side of her paw, staring out at the sinking sun. The melodies of the wild birds diminished, replaced by the chirping choir of crickets. Faint ribbits occasionally joined the nearing dusk’s orchestra.
“Just one more time,” Lenore murmured. “No, a few more tries. I can do it.” She struggled to get up, the physical fatigue from yesterday and today’s trials dragging her down. She fought through it, desperate to get on her feet.
“I thought you’d give up by now,” Edmund said. He watched her stand up, taking notice of the wobble in her legs. “Yesterday you asked to be carried.”
“There’s a difference between that and not wanting to disappoint the Caernith,” Lenore replied.
“I already managed to turn into a wolf. I can’t just stop there.
” A stinging ache pulsed through her paws.
Her ears flattened as a stifled whine slipped past her jaws.
“I’d rather keep trying than show up empty-handed—er, pawed. ”
“Empty-pawed. Funny.” Edmund deadpanned. Lenore wondered how offensive it would be for a Nyven to stick her tongue out at her Vesren.
She did it anyway.
A light burst of air left Edmund’s nostrils as he tossed his head to the side. So he did have some leniency after all.
“What’s going to happen if I don’t bring the Caernith a gift?”
Edmund’s ear twitched. “I don’t know,” he said.
“You... don’t know?” Lenore asked, befuddled. “But you’re the Vesren!”
“Well, first thing is, I have never seen anyone fail to offer a gift.”
“You might witness the first,” Lenore mumbled.
Scoffing lightly, he said, “The other thing is…” He hesitated. “Auden is... unwell. He isn’t himself these days.”
Lenore’s brow ridges furrowed. “But... he was kind to me.”
“... Do you really think his suggestion of leaving you on your own was kindness?”
A cold chill seeped through her fur. “I... don’t know,” she whispered back. “What’re you trying to say?”
“I—” Edmund stopped, shaking his head. “Forget it. It’ll be fine anyway. You won’t show up with nothing.”
He drew near to her, walking side by side as Lenore started seeking her next target. “Before I even comment on your hunting skills itself, you constantly miss the right timing because you hesitate to kill anything in the first place.”
Lenore winced. “I—well, I’m sure that feeling will... eventually pass?” Her ears lowered. “I don’t know.” Despite her low optimism, she sniffed the air, following Edmund’s instructions he had given prior on how to catch a prey’s scent.
“Then—”
“Edmund, I know you mean well, but I’ll be honest, I’m just holding onto a miracle at this point.” Lenore continued onward, sticking her nose into a bush.
Edmund’s tail swished back and forth in an agitated manner. “Just—just wait here,” he growled. Lenore looked back and tilted her head.
“Why?”
“I said just wait here.” Edmund disappeared into the undergrowth.
At first, only the rustle of leaves against his fur stirred the wilderness.
Lenore craned her neck, trying to catch sight of him.
Everything went silent. She jolted when an explosion of noise tore through the greenery; nearby bushes shook violently, until a dying scream of a rabbit rang out.
The scream cut off—and only the hum of crickets remained.
Out from the shadows of the underbrush came Edmund, pacing forward with a lifeless rabbit in his jaws.
Lenore’s jaw fell agape. “You—”
“Take it. We’ll continue working on your hunting another day,” Edmund said. The rabbit flopped in a crumpled heap before Lenore. He licked his bloodied canines. “I’ll be back. I need to rinse the blood off.”
“Wh—” Lenore could only stammer as she watched him turn away. She stared in bewilderment at him before looking down at the dead creature. Its lifeless eyes stared blankly at her.
I’m holding a dead rabbit, I’m holding a dead rabbit, I’m holding a dead—Those words hadn’t left her head until now. Lenore’s hands shook as she gripped the limp body of the rabbit.
There was absolutely no way she was going to carry the rabbit in her mouth of all places, so she had returned to her human form.
Arms stretched far from her body, she made sure to keep the rabbit’s blank eyes turned away.
The soft brown fur did little to subdue her discomfort—it made her skin crawl, especially when she caught sight of the dried blood on the ends of its fur. Her stomach twisted.
She knew it was the inevitable end result of hunting, but she still couldn’t fathom it.
Lenore turned her head ever so slightly, glancing at Edmund carefully.
The true executioner was walking next to her.
He noticed her gaze, making eye contact with her.
Lenore stared up at him with wide doe-eyes.
A sharp gust of air blew out of Edmund’s nostrils in response.
His hand lifted to rub his furrowed brow. Lenore managed a sheepish smile.
The blues of the night sky painted over the once brilliant hues of orange and red, shrouding the two figures in a veil of near darkness. The hum of chirping crickets resonated across the forest grounds.
Lenore tore her gaze away from the rabbit she held. A lingering question made her cast a glance in Edmund’s direction.
“Yes?” The sudden sound of Edmund’s voice colored her cheeks a faint pink.
“Um—well, I didn’t expect you to help me the way you did.”
Edmund’s brow furrowed. “Not a word of that,” he growled. “We’re close enough for others to hear now.”
Lenore glanced around, trying to catch sight of any nearby wolves. “Well,” she whispered. “Thank you.” It struck her how much Edmund had helped her. Maybe it’s him being the pack’s Vesren.
“I expect you’ll be able to catch something next time,” Edmund replied. “If even a mouse.”
“Right,” Lenore said with a light exhale. She smiled softly afterwards. “A miracle doesn’t happen often, after all.” A knowing look was thrown his way, and she saw a faint smile make its way onto his face.
Absently, she hugged the rabbit close to her chest. Its soft fur pressed against her—she froze as its head lolled limply over her arm. With a shriek, she dropped the rabbit instantly. Edmund facepalmed.
“At least look like you killed it, whelp!” Edmund picked it up with ease.
Just as he handed it over to the hesitating Lenore, a distant bark sounded, and fast, pounding paws struck the forest ground.
The pair’s eyes turned toward the noise.
Two wolves sprinted frantically toward them, their bodies nearly crashing into the two figures as they made for a sharp stop.
One of them was familiar to Lenore. It was the brown wolf that had greeted the group when they first arrived. Hans, was it? Lenore recalled. The other wolf’s fur was a dirty blonde.
“Vesren!” Hans wheezed out the words between shallow breaths. “A mithrial has appeared!” Edmund’s demeanor completely shifted—a predator ready to hunt his prey. He flexed his fingers.
“It’s in our territory too!” The other wolf pranced in place, tail wagging with glee. “It’s an auspicious sign before the Lunar Ball!”
It must be a rare creature, Lenore thought. Its name rang a faint bell in her head—something she might have seen attached to high-grade potions back in Arkhaven.
“It means nothing if we don’t catch it,” Edmund said coolly, but the thrill of excitement gleamed in his eyes. “How far along has the hunt started?”
“The hunting party only just formed. We’ve been sent to fetch you,” Hans answered. “It’s one of the finest ones we’ve ever scouted.”
“Is that the newblood?” The dirty-blonde wolf stopped his dance and stared at her. Lenore’s heartbeat quickened as he took a careful sniff of the air.
Her head bobbed slightly. “Hello!” she said.
The wolf’s head tilted to the side. The rigidity of his tail relaxed. “Huh. I wouldn’t have guessed you’re a Lucyn-bitten—”
“Nox.” The venomous warning in Edmund’s voice silenced him.
“Sorry. It’s just that you’re something out of a tale we’ve heard since puphood. I’ve never seen a turned werewolf until now and—”
Edmund’s growl cut him off, low and sharp.
Nox cleared his throat. “Well, you’re just in time to get a bite of one of the taaaastiest meats out there!”
“Hans,” Edmund said, ignoring Nox completely. His gaze hardened into a steely glare. Lenore stared, surprised by how much more intense his demeanor could become.
Hans’ ears pricked forward as his head dipped in respect. “Yes, Vesren?”
“Guide Lenore to the butcher’s. Quickly. Then join us.” His words were curt and short. “Nox, we’re off.” Not a single second was spared as Edmund shifted into a wolf and sprinted off. Nox followed closely behind.
“You—you got this!” Lenore shouted after them. “Blessings upon your hunt!”
As they disappeared into the distance, she heard a couple of barks given in response. She smiled. Even without fully understanding what was happening, the excitement was palpable in the air.
“Come along then, Lenore,” Hans said, watching her carefully. He took a step back from her. “It’ll be faster if you turn into a wolf.”
She looked at him, then down at the rabbit. Her smile turned wooden. “A-alright.”
Under Hans’ expectant gaze, she forced herself to lock in. Transforming into a wolf hardly took her more than a minute’s focus. Once she had grasped the feeling initially, her body gained the intuition needed to turn back and forth.