Chapter 1

Galia - year 1156.

Four years had passed since the day Elise linked her soma to Fang’s. The forest of Lanea, her new home, continued to be the untamable bastion of nature it had always been. Like an impenetrable behemoth of dense vegetation, twisted vines, and centennial trees, it simply rested on a vast expanse of land in Southern Galia, secure in the knowledge that no king or kingdom could ever have any power over it.

To live in that forest was to understand that one’s existence was naught but a small part of said behemoth; therefore subservient to both it and its unwritten rules. One such rule could be succinctly summed up as ‘eat or be eaten’ — a harsh reality which every living creature within had to contend with. Every waking moment of their often short lives was, in one way or another, a struggle for survival. It didn’t matter whether you were a fox, a deer, a rabbit, a panther, or anything in between, there always was something bigger and stronger coming for you... unless you could outrun it long enough to live to see another day, of course.

Now, if it was a werewolf we were speaking of, things would be quite different. After all, nothing in those woods was bigger or stronger than the fearsome children of Mother Moon. Indeed, by right of their mighty claws and fangs, they were the only creatures that could be properly called the lords of the forest of Lanea; those who would sit comfortably at the very top of the so-called food chain. After all, who would dare prey upon the apex predators?

Not rabbits, that’s for certain, as they were relegated to the other end of the chain, sharing it with hares, squirrels, deers, and other such herbivores. That rabbit, for example, had just come out of its burrow on that morning to graze on some fresh blades of grass. It was a buck of about eleven months of age, who had already had the chance to mate several times, impregnating a number of does with its numerous offspring.

Suddenly, its ears perked, sensing danger in the air. But it was already too late. Its time had come, and there was nothing to be done about it. Before it could even think of making a mad dash back to the safety of its burrow, a savage set of beastly jaws clamped shut hard on its helpless neck, swiftly snapping the spine with a most sickening wrench. The life of that buck had thus ended. Its motionless body now hung limply from the blood-curdling teeth of the predator who had claimed it.

“And that is how we hunt our prey, Littlepaws,” said the large, imposing wolf as he deposited the dead rabbit on the ground. “Any questions?”

A young, wide-eyed wolf cub came forward from the shrubbery. “D-did it suffer?” he timidly asked, sniffing the little buck and peering into its lifeless eyes as though he was trying to discern what it might have felt at the moment its soma was suddenly torn out of its body.

“I am confident to say that it did not feel any pain whatsoever,” stated the bigger wolf, trying to assuage the doubts of the cub. “You saw it yourself. I moved to snap its neck faster than it could realize what was happening.”

“Yeah, I guess you did,” sighed the tiny wolf pup, still not quite convinced. “It is so unfair, though...”

“Unfair, you say?”

“I— I mean, it did not even have a chance to flee or... do anything. One moment it was alive, and the very next it was just dead, b-because nothing is a match for your jaws... much less a little grass-eater that did not choose to be born prey.”

“No living creature under the sun gets to choose what form they take when they are born unto this world,” sagely said the large wolf, sitting on his haunches. “You may say it is unfair, and perhaps in a way you are correct. After all, fairness is not a concern for the great circle of life, into which we are all thrust upon birth. However, there are a few things you are failing to consider, my son.”

“Oh?” said the cub, cocking its head quizzically.

“First of all, the only reason this rabbit could not evade my jaws is that there are years of hunting experience behind my every move. That is what ultimately earned me this kill. In fact, I could not possibly tell you how many times I had to fail as a youngling in order to learn from my mistakes. Then again, that is a part of how one builds up their experience.”

“Y-you mean to say, there were rabbits that could run away from you?”

The wolf-father chuckled.

“More rabbits escaped my fangs than I care to admit!” he said, smiling. “I was once your age too, you know? Grass-eaters can be incredibly challenging to catch when you are only beginning to learn the ways of our kind! We lycca may be apex predators, but that does not mean things are any easier for us than they are for our prey. We, too, have to work hard for our own survival! Ah, but you will see for yourself in due time.”

“I... I think I understand now, Father,” ventured the small cub, sitting down as well. “It is fair that prey cannot flee from you anymore, because they could when you were my age, and that balances it out, right?”

“That is partly it, yes, but there is more, Littlepaws,” replied the larger wolf, flicking his ears. “That this one rabbit died to my jaws here today also means that all the other rabbits in its warren will survive to see another sunrise, since we already have our fill for the day.”

“Oh, right. One rabbit was unlucky today, but hundreds weren’t. Although... one of those other rabbits might become our prey tomorrow, and another the day after that, and so on... until there are no more rabbits in the warren,” concernedly said the cub in his precious innocence.

“That is very unlikely to happen, my son, as rabbits reproduce in great numbers precisely so that there will always be more. As a matter of fact, it could be said that they need us predators to help keep their population in check, as there are only so many rabbits the forest can support before resources begin to grow scarce.”

“I... did not think of that,” admitted the small one in an adorable fashion, pawing idly at the ground.

“Lastly, I ought to remind you that the food chain ends where it begins, thus closing the eternal circle of life. In other words, when the time comes for our somas to depart for the stars, our earthly remains will nourish the plant life that will feed the descendants of this noble grass-eater, whose flesh we claim today.”

“You are wise, Father,” said the cub as it gazed admiringly upon the lupine visage of his progenitor.

“Ah, well, wisdom is simply something that comes with age, my little one. Just like experience. In fact, the two are so closely related that you could say they are one and the same,” stated the fatherly wolf. “Now then, shall we return to the grove?”

~*~

Father and son walked among the seemingly endless sea of trees at a leisurely pace, quietly enjoying the natural scenery of the forest, as well as its many sounds and smells. Somewhat unusually, the bigger wolf was carrying his kill on his back, perhaps to keep his mouth free so that he could continue to exchange words with the youngling walking by his side.

“Littlepaws, I am actually glad that your first question was about whether this rabbit suffered in its final moments or not,” he said. “It shows that you understand the sanctity of life. Of course, being that we are carnivores, we cannot escape the fact that we must consume the flesh and blood of our prey to stay strong and healthy. So, do you remember how we show our respect for their lives?”

“Um...” pondered the little one, trying to remember past lessons. “By only taking what we need and no more, right?”

“Indeed! Also, it is our responsibility as apex predators to always refrain from indulging in any sort of unnecessary cruelty. When you go for the kill, you must strike swiftly and efficiently, like I did. Set your jaws on the point where the spine meets the base of the skull and snap it with a quick, forceful twist. The faster you do it, the less they suffer.”

“It sounds difficult, Father, but I will try my best,” the young one said, determined. “I would not want my prey to feel any pain if I can help it.”

“Ah, I can already tell you will be a great hunter when you grow up, for only the greatest hunters understand that prey deserve our utmost respect and consideration,” said the wolf-father with a proud smile.

“When I grow up...” longingly echoed Littlepaws. “Ah, I wish I could walk on two legs already. I cannot wait to become a big, strong lycca like you.”

“Patience, my child. Bear in mind that it has not yet been a full year since you were born. You will not be able to change forms for a little while longer still, as your soma needs more time to grow. Your lyccan blood will only awaken fully once it has matured just enough. Until then, I am afraid you are stuck in your four-legged form, just like any other lycca cub your age.”

“Awwww...” whined the small one as his ears drooped. “How long is ‘a little while longer,’ Father?”

“Well, you turned ten moons of age a few days ago, and most lycca change for the first time on their twelfth moon, so... That should be two more moons from now, then.”

“Um, how many sunrises is that?”

“About sixty.”

“Auuuughhh!!” he loudly groaned. “That long? I will die of old age before that day comes!”

The great wolf-father laughed. “Such eagerness! What do you plan to do when you first change, that you cannot seem to wait any longer for?”

“I want to spar with uncle Daggerclaw!” excitedly yipped the little wolf pup. “Oh! Oh! And I also want to challenge uncle Fleetpaw to a race on two legs and win!”

“Ah, is that so?” said the big wolf, thoroughly amused. “I shall warn you, then: there is no such thing as defeating Fleetpaw in any sort of race. Let us just say that he was not given that name for nothing!”

“Yes, but maybe I can be like the tortoise that beat the unbeatable hare in Miss Marjorie-vanni’s book!”

“So your strategy is to hope Fleetpaw grows overconfident and decides to take a nap in the middle of the race?” asked the father, smiling mirthfully.

“Well, it could happen!”

“Hahahah, I suppose it could! But if a certain pup I know has not yet realized that this path is not taking us to Howling Grove, I doubt the tortoise will ever beat the hare...”

“...What?” asked the little one, stopping dead in his tracks and tilting his head in confusion.

“My son,” began the father of the cub, turning to his progeny, “it appears as though I have momentarily forgotten the way back to the grove. Would you take the lead?”

The young cub, in all his innocence, didn’t know what to make of that. “Um... A-alright...” he eventually responded, not exactly brimming with confidence.

Somewhat nervously, he stepped forward and began to look around, trying to figure out which way home was. However, nothing looked familiar at all. No matter where he looked, it was all trees, trees, and more trees. ‘I... I do not know where we are!’ he thought to himself, beginning to panic. ‘B-but I cannot tell Father that I am lost! I cannot disappoint him!’

“Remember what I always tell you about the forest, Littlepaws,” softly said the father, sensing that his little one needed a gentle nudge in the right direction. “Close your eyes and let the smells tell you all that you need to know, for they are the map that will always guide you wherever you want to be.”

‘R-right! The map of smells!’ thought the cub, closing his eyes. Sniff-sniff, sniff-sniff; the various scents of the forest entered his lupine nostrils, evoking ethereal images of plants and animals in his mind. Among them, he ‘saw’ a stag passing by, four mice scampering about, a raccoon climbing up a nearby tree, and... What was that?

“T-that way!” he suddenly barked, turning to his left and sniffing at the air some more. “I think I can smell us when we were headed to the grass-eaters’ burrow! It is coming from over there!”

“Lead the way, son!” said the wolf-father, beaming.

And so, the small cub hopped onwards, following the trail of the one scent that evoked a fuzzy, yet recognizable picture of his father and himself from earlier that day.

“See?” continued the bigger wolf as he followed his son. “Our eyes can only perceive what is here now. If you want to peek beyond the veil of ‘the now,’ you have to make use of your nose. Remember that smells travel far and linger, which is why they can tell you so much more about the world that surrounds us.”

Only moments later, both lyccan wolves were back on the correct path, headed to Howling Grove.

“You did well, son. I am proud of you,” warmly said the father.

“Ah, I cannot wait to tell Mother about this! She is going to be so impressed that I could find our way back without any help!” chirped the tiny pup, trotting with a spring in his step.

“I am sure she will be!”

“Why did she not come with us anyway, Father?”

“Well...” hummed the great wolf, eyeing the dead rabbit on his back. “Since they come from the human world, vanni do not usually possess the innate hunting instinct of an apex predator coursing through their veins, and the Offering of the Fangs does not actually change that. Which is why most of them show aversion to the idea of shedding the blood of their prey and consuming their flesh raw.”

“Oh...” said Littlepaws as he pondered those words. “That is right. Mother will not eat meat that has not been put over a fire first. Why is that so, Father?”

“It is a matter of taste, I suppose. That is simply how most meats are consumed in the human world, my son. I believe there are sanitary reasons as well, though perhaps your mother can explain them to you better than I possibly could,” admitted the father. “Regardless, it goes without saying that all vanni are free to ingest their food however they prefer.”

“Ah, I see. So they eat different because of their human half, that we do not have,” reasoned the little one, nodding to himself.

“That said, the main reason she did not come with us today is that she had something important to do in the human village that was once her home.”

“T-the human village?” exclaimed the cub with a gasp; his ears perked. “That is the place we are never to set foot in, right? Is it not dangerous for Mother to be there?”

“Oh, you would do well not to underestimate your mother, son. Trust me when I say she can handle herself just fine. She is very strong, you know?” said the larger wolf, proudly puffing up his chest.

“She is? Wait, so she can fight? Who taught her? Was it you, Father? Did you clash claws with her?” excitedly asked the son, jumping up and down.

“Oh, no, no, no, I could never! Daggerclaw’s soma-bonded mate, Rose-vanni, was the one who sharpened your mother’s combat fangs, so to speak. She takes all the credit, and rightfully so.”

“Ooooohhh!” said the little pup, awestruck. “If Miss Rose-vanni was her teacher, then Mother must be incredibly strong!”

“She certainly is a force to be reckoned with!” stated the wolf-father with his head held high, and his black canine lips curved into a wide smile. “Ah, yes, I was very lucky that she chose me to be her lycca-mate, for who else can say they are soma-bonded to the best vanni in all of Howling Grove?”

The tiny one was nearly bursting with pride, oblivious to the fact that every male lycca in the pack would have said the exact same thing about the lycca-vanni they’re bonded to, and with full conviction. It is a thing of wonder how that never seemed to spark conflicts between the mated males. After all, regardless of the purity of their intentions, affirming that one vanni was ‘the best’ carried the implication that the others weren’t, which could be insulting to the other males. In order to avoid possible frictions, it’s likely that they had some sort of unspoken agreement never to exalt their beloved half-human partners among themselves.

“Tell me, Father. How did you meet Mother?” asked the curious cub after a few moments.

“How I met your mother? Hmm, well, like most lycca meet their fated vanni-mates, I would say,” began the wolf, lazily waving his tail about as he looked back into his memories. “She had fled her old home in the human village, desperately trying to run away from a life of torment. That is when she heard the silent call of the forest. And then, she simply came to me.”

“A... a life of t-torment?” gasped the small wolf pup, horrified. “Mother was in pain?”

“Unfortunately, she was,” sighed the great wolf. “For whichever reason, men with hearts as black as coal abound in the human world. They are capable of doing terrible things to vulnerable vanni, Littlepaws. Especially when they are in a position where they can commit their atrocities without fear of retribution. One such monster of a man had hurt your mother deeply, and even tried to take her life. She was running from him when she entered these woods for the first time.”

“S-so you saved her?” pleadingly asked the innocent cub with tears in his eyes. “You saved her, right, Father?”

“I believe I did, son. Through the offering of my fangs, I gave your mother the freedom she sought, and she has remained happily by my side ever since. You need not to cry for her, as the days of her torturous past are long gone, never to return. Instead, be glad that today we can enjoy the loving warmth of her smile as we embrace one another, basking in the serene completeness of our family.”

“Y-yes, but... I do not like that she had to suffer so much before meeting you.”

“No one does, but that is the reality of the world we live in,” said the wolf as he nuzzled his son to comfort him. “This is why we are here in the first place, Littlepaws. We exist to make unhappy vanni happy. It is our sacred purpose to free them from the clutches of human cruelty, as well as grant them our unconditional love and devotion. In fact, whether you believe it or not, every lycca-vanni in Howling Grove had suffered in one way or another before meeting us.”

“Even Miss Rose-vanni?”

“Yes, even her,” he affirmed with a nod. “But you have seen how much they enjoy their new lives now; their lungs full of freedom as they run through nature on the legs of wolves alongside their chosen mates. That, my son, is what we can do. We cannot change their past, but we can change their future, and I believe that is worth feeling glad about.”

Littlepaws remained silent for a few moments, quietly contemplating the words of his sire. Then, he raised his gaze off the ground and said:

“Father? Do you think... that one day, a vanni will come to me too, so that I can save her with the offering of my fangs, just like you saved Mother?”

“Oh, yes, that day will come eventually. It always does, for every lycca. In fact, I am sure that, somewhere in this vast land, your fated vanni awaits the call of the forest to come to you — even if she does not know it yet.”

“My fated vanni...” softly echoed the small one, looking far into the distance. “I wonder what kind of person she is going to be.”

“Only time will tell, my son,” said the great wolf. “Still, you should not concern yourself with such matters just yet, as nothing will happen before your third birthday, when you pass into adulthood. So, for now, simply focus on eating your meals so you can grow big and strong for your future vanni, all right?”

“Yes, Father. I will do that.”

~*~

At last, the two wolves stood before the twin willow trees that marked the entrance to Howling Grove.

“Well, here we are,” said the bigger wolf as his body began to shift, growing larger and more muscular while rising on his hind legs. The cub watched the transformation with eyes alight with awestruck wonderment. ‘Only sixty more sunrises,’ he reminded himself.

“I would imagine the vanni-heart of our family should be back from her errand in the human village by now,” said the father upon completing his form change, now standing on two powerful werecanine legs. “She is probably waiting for us in our den.”

Without further ado, both the big, imposing lycca and his diminutive son crossed the invisible magical gate between the willow trees, emerging moments later in Howling Grove. As a fully transformed adult werewolf, the former was so much larger and taller than the latter; the heft of his markedly muscular alpha-male frame quite evident in every step he took.

The little wolf pup pranced along on his four little legs, admiring the impressive size and sharpness of his father’s undoubtedly lethal foot-claws. ‘I wonder if mine will look just as big as well, when my own lycca form awakens at long last,’ he said in his inner voice, letting his mind wander while he envisioned himself as a mighty werewolf, rippling with bulging muscle under his beastly coat of wild, indomitable fur. ‘Ah, that day cannot come soon enough.’

Naturally, there were many other members of the pack in the central area, either lounging on the ground or going about their daily routines — some of them on two legs; the rest on four. A few of them acknowledged the returning duo with a quiet nod of the head, as per their customs. In the center of the clearing stood the Moon Pedestal all by its lonesome, as no one seemed to be paying any attention to it at the time. ‘Makes sense, since there are no new vanni in the pack right now,’ the youngling thought to himself.

Further away, on the other side of the clearing, there sat an ornate slab of rock known as the ivory gate. Sealed by powerful magic from an era long past, it would only open to vanni bearing a glowing Moon Pendant. However, what lay beyond was a mystery to everyone, as none who had crossed it could ever retain their memories of what they saw inside. ‘The Grand Alpha lives there, or so I am told,’ recalled the cub. ‘I heard he is the only lycca with the power to sever a soma bond without claiming a life, and that every vanni has to see him once to take something called a Oneness Test.’

The inscrutable aura of mystery surrounding the gate was oddly compelling, and the tiny pup couldn’t easily tear his gaze away from it. ‘One day... I will find myself sitting in front of that gate, waiting with bated breath for my fated vanni to come back to me, just like Father told me he once did for Mother,’ he thought to himself as he pictured exactly that. ‘I hope it is not as stressful as it sounds!’

So distracted was the cub, that he utterly failed to notice the pair of furry arms descending on him from behind. The next thing he knew, he was being smothered by two large pillows of marshmallow-like flesh.

“Theeeere’s my favorite nephew, the most adorable little-wittle fluffy thing in the whole forest: Littlepaws!” loudly proclaimed the sturdily built she-werewolf with a gray coat of fur. “Who’s the cutest itsy-bitsy baby-cub in all of Howling Grove? You are! Yesh, you are!”

Not without some difficulty, the pup eventually managed to dislodge his face from between the two sizable globes of marshmallow hell.

“No, Miss Marjorie-vanni,” he calmly said in his adorably squeaky voice. “I am not cute. I am ferocious!”

“Ferociously adorable, yes! A lovable and oh-so-huggable furball of absolute terror!” said Marjorie in a sing-song voice as she scratched the poor cub behind his ears, causing the latter to reflexively shake his hind leg in a self-scratching motion. “Ooooh, I so love it when my teeny-tiny wolfy puppy does that shaky leg thing!”

“I might be tiny now, but I will grow,” the pup tried again. “Just sixty more sunrises, and then I will become a huuuge alpha-male lycca like Father! I will be big and strong, and cute no more!”

“Oooh, and what are you going to do with all that strength?”

“I will save a vanni!” proudly declared the tiny one, puffing up his chest as much as he could.

“You will save a vanni, you say? And then what?”

“And then I will hug her, protect her, and keep her fed; and make her super, super happy forever!”

“Sounds like a plan!” said Marjorie with a big smile. “But how are you going to make her super happy forever, Littlepaws?”

“I, uh...” he began, stopping for a few moments to think. “I will, um... Every day I will tell her she is the prettiest vanni, and I will mean it!”

“Oh, my! You’re only ten months old, and you already know the way to a woman’s heart!” jokingly said the gray she-werewolf with a good-natured laugh. “But yesterday you told me your mommy is the prettiest vanni in the whole universe, remember? Is your fated vanni going to be even prettier?”

“Oh! I, uh, um... I mean—” stuttered Littlepaws, suddenly choking on his own words. “T-they both can be the prettiest in the universe, just in different ways...”

“Ah, then it’s all right!” laughed Marjorie, putting the wolf pup back on the ground. “Well, I have to go now. Tell your mom I said hi, will you?”

“I will, Miss Marjorie-vanni.”

“So polite!” squeed the big she-werewolf.

After giving Littlepaws’ hulking sire a friendly pat on the back, the ever jovial Marjorie went on her merry way. The cub then proceeded to shake his whole body from head to tail, in much the same way dogs often do. “Ah, she never changes...” sighed the father, although with the hint of a smile on his canine lips.

~*~

“We are home!” yipped the furry youngling as he gaily bounced into the den, ahead of his father. “Mother, are you here? Ah, there you are!”

Indeed, there she was; a stunningly beautiful lycca-vanni with a coat of fur as white as snow, and sparkling eyes the color of emeralds. With a silent motherly smile, she welcomed her bouncy son into her arms. “I love you, Mother,” he said to her, taking in the soothing scent of her fur. She simply smiled again. Silently.

And then, her lips parted:

“I love you too, Littlepaws,” she said in her soft, angelic voice. “You are my furry sunshine.”

As the excitable wolf cub began telling her all about his encounter with Marjorie, his father lumbered into the den. After leaving the dead rabbit on a flat rock, the big, towering werewolf gently enveloped the snow-white female in his burly arms. “My beloved Anabelle-vanni,” he said in his deep, raspy voice, “should I presume everything went well in your visit to the village?”

“Yeah, nothing bad happened. I just went straight to the graveyard, visited my mother’s grave, prayed for the eternal rest of her soul, then left. Same as last year.”

“Did you use the secret tunnel?”

“No, I didn’t. I just had no need for it. Since I was on my own, going above ground was much faster and at least ten times less cumbersome than taking the tunnel,” explained Anabelle as she lovingly petted her and Darkhowl’s son. “Besides, I only do this once a year, and no one lives near the graveyard anyway.”

“Well, as long as you remain vigilant...”

“You know me, Darkhowl. I’m always vigilant when I’m out there,” she stated with a confident smile as she turned to nuzzle her soma-bonded lycca-mate’s thick fur collar. “That said, a man actually saw me today — one I had not expected to see myself ever again...”

“W-what?” exclaimed a very startled Darkhowl, his wolf ears twitching in disbelief.

“Oh, he only saw me because I let him,” mysteriously said the white she-werewolf. “Here, look.”

Anabelle then produced... a bronze key.

“What is that, Mother?” asked Littlepaws, looking at the strangely shaped object with eyes full of curious wonder.

“This is an antique key of sorts, my child. The man who saw me in the graveyard gave it to me. Apparently, it belonged to my father.”

“But who was that man?” Darkhowl asked, unable to hide the concern in his glowing amber eyes.

To be continued...