A long-drawn, fluctuating vocal sound that resembles a howl and is produced by discharging a high pitched loud voice followed by a rapid back and forth movement of the tongue and the uvula. The combined sound of it weakens my knees, it is too overpowering.
(Our Queen has set foot on our soil!)
Phobos and I trudge up the trail paved for us, torches mounted high on either of our sides. He treads with confidence on my left his head raised spine upright the Alpha accompanies me through the masses as they bow and kneel upon the soil in honour for us.
Two thrones occupy the space in front of us, thrones made of bones and skulls of animals. It instils terror within me whilst my moon blessed stands in front of his seat as I scramble to settle by his right.
His wolves arise to turn to us their faces coated with white paint, I can only discern their radiant eyes as they examine me. Phobos seize my left wrist with celerity and raises it into the air as I recoil my eyes widening at his unforeseen actions.
"Přinesl jsem ti tvou královnu, jak jsem slíbil!" He bellows as I wince to his voice that I had yearned to hear. Goddess his voice is bewitching. So unfathomably sonorous and husky. It possesses a seductive ring and lowness to it, call me. Call me by name with that voice of yours, Phobos.
(I have brought you your Queen as I promised!)
I do not possess any idea as to what he said but it seems to me pride surges in his introduction so I shall not question it. His wolves howl their noses raised towards the clouded moon, a joyous occasion they regard this as. I had thought they would despise me for I am the only female with pale skin and golden locks, I was agonizingly so different from them.
The females all possess tan skin, their limbs toned and firm displaying their years of relentless training to me. Yet all I have is a frail body and an aversion to blood.
Two hefty males haul an agitated sheep in front of us as it bleats frightenedly. I can see the panic it holds in his eyes. I glance towards Drakho who stands to my right, his hands grasped tightly behind his back as he stares ahead calmly.
He senses my anxious eyes on him and he instantly kneels by my side. He understands my confusion for Phobos does not acquaint me of anything. I am lost in their ways.
"This is our sacrifice to the moon in thanksgiving for you." He whispers as my eyes broaden to the truth he spits. Are they going to slaughter it in front of me? No, please don't.
The males shove the helpless sheep to the ground preparing it for death as I do my best to conceal the wild tremors of my hands. The crowds laugh and ridicule the sheep for its vulnerability for this is the land where the weak are butchered. Understanding settles in and I struggle to breathe in denial. That sheep is me.
As the wolf raises the sharpened axe aiming for the throat, a scream threatens to tear through from my side. Stop. Stop it! My mouth opens to toss out my command to them yet before I could protest his calloused hand abruptly grips my wrist as I flinch at the harshness of it and gaze at Phobos.
His eyes warn me to keep quiet, to keep calm. Perhaps in the eyes of others, it seems as though he is caressing me out of love but I know it isn't true. His grip on me is painful and rigid binding me to surrender to the transpiring events.
I shut my eyes possessing no courage to watch the scene unfold as tears openly stream down my cheeks as I overhear the brutality they show the animal, there are less cruel ways to kill it than this way. One firm slice is all it takes for the sheep to lose its life and the silence that emerges from it which follows is excruciating.
"Your Queen is pleased with your sacrifice," Phobos utters as the reason for my dreadful tears. He lies as I gaze achingly at him. Is it this easy for him to lie? Then is me being here also a lie? Is everything we had in the past also a lie? Then what truth do we both hold as one, if none of what I had with you was real then in reality we are strangers. This thought burdens me with wrath.
His wolves quickly form a line both males and females stand as one each carrying a peculiar item in their hands and they begin to walk towards us.
"They bring you both gifts for the newly birthed mate bond. It is their offering to you." Drakho explains the third step in their welcoming ceremony.
One by one his wolves march forward transferring trays of their oblations to us. Some bring forth weapons of all kinds and I notice the sudden glimmer of excitement in Phobos's eyes. The others carry food such as dried meat or freshly gutted animals as they lay it by our feet.
"Děkuju," Phobos replies with a nod of acknowledgement as he grips the arms of his throne settling comfortably in his seat.
(Thank you)
The last female who comes forward bears an assortment of knitted fur coats, socks and hats. "For the winter, Alpha. Luna." She whispers her eyes soft and content as she regards me. She is a stunning female indeed with radiant hazel eyes and distinctive red hair, she holds beauty. I see she is not of my age, perhaps more in line with Phobos.
"Děkuji, Moira. Využijeme to dobře." Phobos utters a faint smile on his face as he heeds her with astonishing gentleness. It is not a visible smile to the eyes of another but to me, I know him and I know what he holds is softness for her. Who is she?
(Thank you, Moira. We will use it well)
Moria, he called. I remember he said she was one of his friends when I was a pup, his closest. She beams back at him whilst placing her offering by our feet. All of a sudden a small pup of five years pushes through the crowd wearing nothing but a loincloth as he fearlessly runs towards us.
"Argus!" Moira calls out his name agitatedly but he does not pay heed darting towards my male tugging on his jeans demanding to be carried.
Phobos peers down at the pup with amiability picking him up to settle him over his knee. It seems natural for them as though it were a frequent occurrence.
"I missed you!" Argus says nestling into his warmth with a fondness meekly taking a quick glimpse at me. He reaches up to cup Phobos's right year as though he were spewing a secret as my mate bends down to hear him.
"Is it her?" Argus murmurs as my moon blessed gazes at me as I look away flushing for his appearance is always austere and carnal when he regards me.
"Ano." My mate replies with a brief nod.
(Yes)
"Ona je velmi hezká," Argus whispers again glancing away with shyness when I tenderly smile at him.
(She is very pretty)
"Vím," Phobos responds rubbing away the dirt and mud that clings to the pup's cheek. When I look at him this way, he seems as though he has reverted to the male I knew. My Phobos.
(I know)
"I apologize for my male, Luna. He tends to be very mischievous." Moira confesses, her accent is very thick and foreign to me just like Phobos's.
"Oh no, it is quite all right. I do not mind." I am quick to ease her tension, I adore pups I see them as not harmful or annoying. They are gifts of the moon are they not? There is an abrupt silence that engulfs the crowd as they view me with awestruck eyes.
"You have a beautiful voice, Luna," Moira states as my teeth sink into my lower lip to her compliment. Is that why they are all staring at me in wonder? Because my voice is strange from theirs.
"Thank you," I answer my head bowed to burrow my burning cheeks. She is kind.
"Luna, the older females are waiting for you. They shall prepare you." Drakho declares from beside me breaking our conversation as I peer at him with confusion.
"Prepare me? F-For what?"
"It is an intimate tradition between you and them. They shall lead you." He affirms as I speedily get up to pay heed to his words.
"Of course." I am polite with my actions for I know traditions must be upheld and not forsaken. I shall honour theirs be it whatever it may be.
An assembly of older females with greying locks which show me their years of existence wait for me with shimmering orbs as they behold me. I leave the heat of my throne meekly shuffling towards them as they embrace my presence.
I turn to take a quick glimpse at my moon blessed with uncertainty, he has his eyes adhered to my flesh indeed. He is observing keenly as to how I shall react to them.
"Come, Luna." They say in harmony catching back my attention as they guide me along a continuous path towards a minute lit hut visible in front of me. It is a bit remote from the gathering. I do not question them enabling them to direct me as I am open to taking part in their tradition.
The trail is serene as I beam at every female who discerns me with interest along the way, I understand their uncertainties. I am disparate from them, they find my appearance alluring as I find theirs.
Whilst we enter the hut, I notice how void it is and only holds a round timber bathtub filled with scented water. They seal the door behind us to form a circle around the bathtub. The oldest of all seems to be the leader yet she does not seem frail, rather healthy and youthful. But I see the age she holds. She wields a certain power over all others as though what she says goes. The females listen to her and abide by her directions and wishes.
No, her eyes are not gentle as they espy me. She is like Phobos, I do not sense or see her emotions rather she scrutinizes me inspecting me head to toe. She is blatantly assessing me, this female does not see me with respect as the others do.
"Undress, Luna." She utters and I pay heed to her words stripping free off my sweater and skirt swiftly waiting for her next instruction. Another female rips the hairband I wear to free my locks as she gently feels a strand with surprise.