Dreams Under The New Sky

A mixture of acid and water expelled itself from the boy's gaping mouth, the remains of his empty stomach laid across the ground. Blood began to run from the teeth marks in his leg. The wolves scowled at the smell and paced away from the unusual creature in agony, the vomit mixing with the now blood-stained snow. The winter wolf pounced upon the boy forcing him to fall backwards onto the ground. Again, he placed his paw upon the boy's chest, and he began to gasp for air, his mind focused on breathing and surviving the mass atop him. Ren's teeth fit into the holes they'd left in his leg and dragged him into the small cave the smaller bushes made. The boy, clawing at his throat and screaming in pain, caught glimpses of pups and elder wolves, their body warmth heating his cold heart, but thickening the air.

The stench of the wolfen den was somehow nostalgic and yet stunk like nothing he had smelt before. The boy coughed and blood spluttered from his mouth, instantly joining the trail that was being smeared as they roughed through bush and bramble. With his mind open, the small conversations and whispers of the wolves of the cave were no longer private. They were right to be suspicious of him and despite his own condition, an instinct inside told him to remain on guard. The life that he had left was hinging upon this instinct.

"Young brother, you act like a rabbit after its neck has been broke. Ren brings you to the warm mist, make rest young brother." The wolf readjusted his own head and its grip on the distraught boy's leg as it begun to scramble down rocks. The air, now stifling with heat became wet, and the mist danced across his skin warming his blood and slowly soothing his agony. Ren dropped his jaw and released the boy into a shallow pool of hot water. The muscles, or those that were left in the boy's body untightened and his eyes closed as the pain from his mind and his leg seemingly disappeared. As he faded from consciousness again, the silhouette of Ren comforted him. Despite the wolf's unpleasant gift, he had no ill-will towards the boy, their bond and trust formed quickly but the boy could not make out why. His eyes hung heavy and though his mind raced he fell fast into the void he was supposedly in for so long.

A village hut strung against the red backdrop of the sun, there stood two figures with no faces nor were their mouths producing sounds. They stood, staring, dying. The head of the female figure disappeared and soon the male figure completely disappeared. The boy tried to move, he struggled but there was something strung to his leg. A chain leading back behind him. The sun began to rise again, faster each time. Only getting seconds to glimpse at the end of the chain, the boy witnessed a horror. Thousands of bodies with limbs missing and faces covered by thick blood all held his chains, moaning a familiar name.

'Gray...'

The voices began to echo and light shone from where the hut once stood. There was a sword, the slight curve and thin edge faced him and began to sing his name.

'Gray... find me... Gray...'

The name began to sting and then unable to bear the pain, the boy awoke in a jolt, the precipitation of the steam dripping from his scrawny body. First, the dream burned itself into his mind. Then, the questions. How could he have stayed alive for so long? What had happened to those dead people? Why could he not recall anything other than the provocative images of death and the feeling of failure he had? Why had they called him that name? The blade alone in the snow trapped his mind and gripped at soul, tugging at it like a rope.

Ren rushed from across the cave straight unto the boy. Upon realising that there was nothing ailing him, the wolf closed in more slowly on the boy in the mist. He let out a small whimper and nudged the boy to open his mind up.

"Young brother, your predator is of the mind is it not?" The boy turned his body to face his wolf-protector, but the pain of his leg soon rose to prevent him from doing so. He settled on just turning his head. There he met with the eyes of the beast, which shone in the dark and reflected in the waters. Not even the steam could hide the worry that they displayed so freely.

"Ren cannot defend against such a foe, so young brother must fight itself." The wolf seemed somewhat discouraged that it could not assist. He then trailed his wet nose down the leg of the boy to the area of his bite. The wound was not visibly beyond the flesh and yet the boy could feel such a strong burning sensation from that area. He slowly reached his own hands to feel the area near his ankle, his legs without much flesh made the break all the easier to find. It occurred to the boy that the wolf's grip on his leg and prevented it from further snapping in two. To Ren's behest, the boy laughed and amid his fit of verbal sounds, disparate from a wolf's howl, he bowed his head to the great white beast.

'You saved me from a slow cold death, stopped my leg from breaking more and now beg me to recover? Great wolf, why are you helping someone like me?' The puzzled wolf inched closer so his body heat could be felt directly. The boy stood from the water, careful to not apply his weight to his injured leg. The wolf moved with him and shook its head in disagreement with his words. Ren's eyes locked on his own once more. It went unspoken between them, but it seemed as though the wolf understood the boy's condition, the loss he felt but could not remember. It was as though the wolf had lived through his tragedy.

"You are my pack young brother. Ren found you in forest and what belongs to the forest belongs to pack. Ren does only best for his pack, think no more of it, two-legged brother." The wolf turned his head with his lie. The boy watched as his eyes fell to the water. The boy pried no further, he himself would not be likely to disclose his own problems to a stranger from the woods. But this unusual bond was comforting, he had not felt something in the likeness of trust for a true eternity. The wolf beckoned to the entrance of the secret springs.

'Young brother must eat like pack if he is to hunt for himself. Ren will share, but pups will not. Lucky Ren has you my young brother.' The boy leant on the soaked coat of Ren, his hand caressing his fur.

'You are wrong, my friend. I am lucky to have you.' The boy smiled and the wolf rebutted once more.

"Ren is wrong? Ren is not friend to young brother." He glared up at the boy and spoke more slowly, making sure this time he would understand his position.

"Brother."

___________________

The elder wolves with patterns and scars across their ancient faces stared at the two-legged beast and Ren as they passed once again, now in full consciousness, and met them with white teeth. The boy bowed his head graciously accepting their offer of refuge. Pups poked their heads out from behind the older wolves and stared on with intrigue and confusion. The boy tried not to return the looks of any wolf, instead opting for the ground below him.

The world was dark outside the bush-cave, stars gleamed upon the vast blackness, and the wolves were spread across the glade; sleeping, guarding, and fighting. Ren stopped moving and rushed under the boy's legs forcing him onto his back and transporting him to a small bare tree not so far from the entrance to the cave.

'The stench is almost unbearable here brother, what is this place?' The wolf in disbelief shook his body and the boy tumbled from his back. Proudly Ren stood in place, bones and meat scraps in front of him.

"You do not wish to eat as we do young brother? Your scenting must still be hurt." Mockingly the wolf dragged the pile of meat away from the starving boy. He pounced forward after it in desperation and of ignorance of the smell.

"Ren smells fresh deer and rabbit from recent hunt. When you soon hunt with pack, young brother will see the goodness of hunted meat." The idea of hunting seemed ludicrous with the injury on his leg though deep within the boy something wanted to kill and to hunt. His stomach agreed with the wolf and not his nose, forcing him to inch ever closer to the prey which would be his food.

Entrails of rabbit and deer were mixed upon the snowy floor, and lining the tree trunk were the heads, ripped from the bodies of the once breathing animals. The sight momentarily drew him back to his dream but the trauma he had was no match for his primal hunger. His stomach growling with the wolves around him.

Ren grinned and his sharp teeth dripped with saliva, 'Young brother does understand, to live it must eat, to be pack it must hunt.' The pack in unison, devoured the flesh leaving only bones and blood, the boy with his whole body covered in his food laughed and swung his hands in the air with his wolf brother. Ren began to share stories of hunting in through the snow. He named the wolves in the pack, each with unique titles. There he found a detail he had forgotten.

'I had a dream earlier, and I think my name is Gray.' The boy tried to convince himself that was what the name had meant, but more so he wished to hold onto it. It was the one thing that seemed most clear in the past that he could not recall. Ren jumped to his feet, rushing to each small group around the glade. His exclamation was of the name of their two-legged guest. The wolves howled his name and soon Gray joined in as well. He was elated and his heartbeat far outran that of Ren who now lay behind him, dreaming of the next hunt. While his body began to relax, the cold began to settle across his naked body.

The moon reached its peak above the glade and shone its great white pale light upon the faces of the pack, and the slow breeze blew about their hair. Gray ran his bloodied hands through his own mane from his scalp to his shoulders where it stopped. He huddled closer to Ren, the icy air pricking his skin.

As Gray's eyes closed, this time of his own volition, he felt as though a small piece of himself had returned. Although still cautious of his ominous dreams, he fell into a still sleep, only to be awoken by the moonlight shining beneath his eye lids.

He admired the moonlit glade, the shadows of wolves in small bunches were piled under trees, and the slow hum of their collective snores filled the silent night air. It was calm in comparison to earlier, and still smiling at his name, Gray laid back down. He shifted his position to the side to avoid the moon's distraction squinting at how bright it was.

Opening his eyes, immediately in front of his face was another. It was no wolf. Bloodied, it smirked, and its eyes widened, crimson liquid flowing endlessly from its sockets. It's laughter became shrieks, and the shrieks became unbearable. It pried what was left of it's mouth open, some of the skin stretching in place. Tilting what seemed to be its head, it breathed cold words.

'Found... you...'

The boy scrambled backwards, and Ren turned to look at his petrified face. The illusion was gone and yet the horror Gray felt did not recede. The taste of his food filled his mouth, and the feeling of nostalgia filled his mind. He knew that face. This was unlike the dream he had before, it felt real. Gray struggled to stay still, his panic shaking his body more than the cold. The wolf reached it's paw over his body forcing him down.

Ren looked into his eyes and saw a vision. Gray could never begin his hunt with the pack. Not when his hunt had begun so long ago in the past.