When the Forest Howls

The mercenaries froze. The dreadful howl reverberated through the forest. It wasn't just a sound—it was like an impending omen, clawing into their bones and chilling their blood. Their hearts raced, and each of their beat was echoing louder in the tense silence that followed.

"W-What the hell was that?!"

The wind user barked, spinning on his heel. He darted his gaze through the trees, scanning for movement. The other two mercenaries mirrored him, tightening their hands on their weapons. 

But they were too late.

A dark figure emerged from the foliage—silent and shadowed. Standing on all fours beside Velren's unconscious body... was a wolf. No ordinary wolf. Its midnight-black fur seemed to absorb the moonlight. Scars marred its flank, but what drew their attention—their terror—was the creature's single gleaming eye.

The beast lowered its massive head, nuzzling Velren's side. The sight of it looked... gentle... and protective. The boy's chest still rose and fell—alive. Relief flickered in that lone golden eye. But when Fenrir turned his gaze back to the mercenaries, his tenderness vanished, replaced only by fury.

"K-Kill it!" one of them commanded. Panic bled into his voice.

The earth manipulator acted first, slamming his palms to the ground. Spiked pillars shot up, aiming to skewer Fenrir—but the wolf was already in motion. A blur of black. He leapt aside, and his claws were scraping bark as he twisted mid-air. Landing fluidly, Fenrir surged forward with his gaping maw. The mercenary barely raised his arm before Fenrir clamped down, crunching bones beneath his powerful jaws.

A strangled scream echoed through the forest, and blood spattered the mossy ground. One mercenary—gone, just like that.

"Damn it—Damn it!"

The wind user backed away, gathering a vortex around his arms. Razor-sharp gusts hurled toward Fenrir. Leaves were tore from its branches, and the trees groaned. Yet the wolf carved through the storm, with his coiled muscles. He zigzagged through debris, closed the gap, and pounced. Claws raked the man's chest, ripping flesh and sending him sprawling. Desperate, the wind user flung a last gust—Fenrir twisted mid-air, dodging, and immediately flashed his jaws. Teeth found throat, followed by silence.

Two down.

The last mercenary—the caster—trembled. His earlier bravado crumbled, and his eyes were darting between Fenrir and his fallen comrades.

"S-Stay back—! I swear—"

He raised his hands, coalescing magic. Sigils glowed in the air, sparking with arcane light.

"Stay back!"

Fenrir advanced.

"I-I'll burn the girl! I'll—!"

Too slow.

Fenrir lunged. Magic flared—but the wolf's paw crashed into the caster's chest first, snapping his ribs. Air left the man in a wheeze. But Fenrir didn't stop. His fangs tore fabric, flesh, until there was nothing left but ragged breaths... and then... nothing at all.

Blood soaked into the earth. Fenrir stood over the bodies. His gaze quickly softened when it turned to Velren and Solenne. Padding back, he gently nudged the boy again.

Still breathing.

The forest—once alive with chaos—now hung in heavy silence once more.

***

Velren felt like he was on a bumpy ride. His whole body was... fuzzy? Warm. Not the rough bark of a cart, nor the jagged grip of someone dragging him. No—this was soft. Furry.

His eyelids fluttered open, adjusting his vision to the dim light filtering through the canopy above.

'Still the forest...'

Moving beside him was a white wolf, matching the pace, Solenne was carefully cradled on his back—still unconscious.

Turning his head slightly, Velren saw what carried him: dark fur, familiar warmth, and the steady rhythm of footsteps.

"...Fenrir?" His voice came out hoarse but tinged with recognition.

There was no mistaking it. That warmth seeping into his battered form—if it wasn't Sköll's, then only one remained. His other companion.

"Take a rest, kid," Fenrir's voice rumbled in his mind, deep and grounding.

"You've earned it."

Velren gave the wolf a tired and crooked smile. His body ached for rest, but not before he murmured:

"Thank you..."

"Hmph. You should be," the wolf grunted back.

Velren let his eyes drift shut, letting the steady movement and the familiar warmth pulled him into a peaceful void.

***

The forest stretched in every direction, dense and unforgiving. A woman in a simple yet regal gown moved hurriedly through the underbrush, her expression was etched with worry. Her eyes darted between the trees, desperately searching. Footsteps of armored guards followed behind her, their breaths were heavy with exhaustion.

"My queen, please don't wander so far ahead!" one of the guards called, reaching out as if to stop her.

She didn't slow. She can't stop. Not until she find her. Her heart pounded—not from exhaustion, but fear.

'Where are you, Solenne?'

Branches clawed at her sleeves, and the damp earth was clinging to her shoes. Her gaze flicked left, then right—nothing but shadows and towering trunks. Her chest tightened, and every second that passed was stretching unbearably long.

Then—movement. Ahead, two figures emerged from the gloom.

The guards reacted instantly, drawing their weapons.

"Protect the queen—!"

"Lower your weapons," the queen's voice cut through, it was firm despite her breathlessness. Her gaze softened.

"We're in the presence of the forest guardians. Stand down."

The black wolf stepped forward first, carrying an unconscious boy on his back—tattered and covered in dirt.

But the Queen's focus quickly shifted as another figure emerged.

A white wolf. And nestled gently on his back—

"Solenne!"

She rushed forward, dropping to her knees as the wolf knelt low enough for her to scoop the girl into her arms. Her fingers trembled as she brushed away dirt and stray hair from Solenne's face. Still breathing... thank the heavens.

"It's a lingering effect of a spell," the white wolf, Sköll, rumbled.

"She'll recover. Nothing she can't handle."

Tears welled in the queen's eyes.

"Thank you... both of you. Truly."

Her gaze flitted between the wolves—one black as night, the other pale as snow. Legends of the guardians were one thing, but seeing them... saving her daughter... it was beyond words.

Fenrir, the black wolf, huffed. Without waiting for more gratitude, he turned, padding his paws back toward the trees. Sköll followed soon after.

But before they disappeared into the foliage—

"Wait!" the queen called, causing the two to paused. She glanced at the boy draped across Fenrir's back.

"That child... who is he?"

Fenrir glanced back, his single eye was gleaming.

"...Family. And the one you should be thanking most."

And with that, the wolves slipped into the forest, leaving the queen and her convoy standing amidst the trees.