Amidst a seemingly ordinary forest, with trees stretching upwards to the sky, stood a majestic and solitary wolf, its sleek gray coat glistening in the bright light of the waxing gibbous moon. The wolf moved with nimble grace, its keen eyes surveying the surroundings with a sharp focus that betrayed its animalistic instincts. Despite its ordinary size, falling somewhere between that of a dog and a bear, the wolf's thick fur was a true marvel, coveted by hunters who sought its pelt.
Drifting downward from its neck was a wooden necklace, fashioned in the shape of a coin with three wolf heads emanating from the center. The wolf remained silent, hiding behind a tree, with its gaze fixed intently on a nearby creature. It was a rabbit, placidly nibbling on a wild carrot, unaware of the danger lurking behind it.
Suddenly, with a swift and deadly motion, the wolf lunged forward, moving with a speed that no ordinary wolf could ever match. Its sharp fangs sank deep into the rabbit's neck, tearing through flesh and bone in one swift motion, bringing an end to the rabbit's peaceful existence. Blood dripped from the wolf's mouth, as it gazed intently at the moon, its head held high.
In a sudden transformation, the wolf's powerful muscles bulged, and its form shifted, changing into that of a stout, pot-bellied man, with a shock of gray hair. Vincent Meis was now standing where the wolf once stood, the guard of the temple quarter of Vizima. However, the transformation to a higher form of werewolf had caused some unexpected mutations to his body, including the dull brown hair that had turned into a tangled mass of white and gray like that of his wolf form's fur, though, right now, he looked like an old man, a fact that the man didn't like.
As a result, Vincent decided to sneak off from the city and train with his 'mentor', Blaidd, deep in the forest outside Vizima's walls. Over the past few days, Vincent had learned much, including the rules governing his abilities, the deities he was expected to worship, and the community he would soon join. However, much to his surprise, that "community" turned out to be only himself and Blaidd, a fact his mentor had failed to mention.
Vincent carefully removed the carcass of the rabbit from his mouth, now standing in the middle of the forest, completely naked. Despite the taste of blood still lingering in his mouth, Vincent had grown accustomed to it over the past few days. With a deep sigh, Vincent glanced at the necklace that hung around his neck, wondering why he couldn't transform without needing to strip.
"Of all the blessings I've been granted," he muttered, clicking his tongue in frustration, "The ability to transform without taking off my clothes was not one of them." Vincent began to stroll through the woods, the rabbit's carcass still in hand, heading towards the light he could see in the distance between the trees.
Despite his comment, the overwhelming sensation of gratitude surges within him like a tempestuous wave crashing upon the shore. For at last, the interminable struggle to restrain the insatiable bloodlust that once raged within his soul has ceased. The agonizing torment of suppressing the fury that smoldered beneath his skin is now but a distant memory. No longer will he be tormented by the alluring but merciless glare of the full moon, and instead be empowered by it, a creature who stood tall under the blessing of the celestial body.
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As Vincent emerged from the depths of the lush forest, he clutched a rabbit tightly in his hand. As he approached the campfire, he could see the faint glow in the distance, and he could hear the soothing sound of the wood crackling in the night air. Blaidd and a man named Casimir were already there, and as Vincent drew closer, he could see the frustration etched on Blaidd's face. Casimir, on the other hand, was chattering away, firing off questions one after the other.
With a raised brow, Vincent spoke up, "What's going on?"
Blaidd scoffed in response, barely acknowledging Vincent's arrival. However, the silver-eyed man tossed a piece of cloth to Vincent, signaling him to wear it.
"Nothing really, nothing," Casimir answered. "I was just a bit curious about your kind."
Vincent furrowed his brows. "What do you mean?"
"Forgive me, Ser Meis," Casimir continued, his face full of smiles and intrigue. "But emerging from the forest without any clothing is rather strange, don't you think? Truthfully, I've never met a werewolf before, let alone a new species of one. It seems I will have to study all of you, and perhaps be able to write my name in history as the one who discovered another species of the 'cursed ones'!"
"We are not cursed ones, Casimir," Blaidd grumbled. "We are more like hybrids or relicts."
Casimir chuckled. "Do you even know what the word 'relict' means, my friend? It's a classification for rare creatures that have been in this world for a long time, a species that you could almost say are extinct."
"Our species only has two members at the moment," Blaidd pointed out.
"True," Casimir conceded. "But you ignored the part where I said that the species has been in this world for a long time. The species classified as relicts haven't changed since their emergence and likely never will."
"Enough of this talk," Vincent interjected, pointing to the rabbit carcass near the fire. "What should we do with this?"
"You only got a rabbit?" Blaidd sighed.
"You scared the wildlife away." Vincent answered straightforwardly.
Blaidd clicked his tongue. "Give me a moment, and I'll finish the stew," Blaidd offered, standing up and grabbing the rabbit.
======
As the minutes ticked by, Blaidd stood near the crackling fireplace, away from Casimir who was diligently scribbling in his notebook with remarkably well-preserved ink. Sitting beside Vincent with a steaming bowl of stew in his hand, they both gazed up at the twinkling stars.
Inquisitively, Vincent asked, sneaking a glance towards Casimir, "Why did you bring him here? And why did you reveal the secrets to him?"
"Honestly, he insisted on coming," Blaidd shrugged nonchalantly while slurping the savory stew. "He didn't want to sleep with rats, so he preferred to spend the night with wolves. Seems like the prospect excites him."
Vincent raised his eyebrows, visibly disturbed. "What exactly do you mean?"
"He hails from Oxenfurt and studies wolf behavior in different regions of the continent," Blaidd explained, "And I told him about us because he's a professor of Natural History."
"Okay, and why is that a good thing?" Vincent questioned skeptically.
"Because knowledge dispels fear. Once something unknown becomes known, it doesn't seem as scary anymore," Blaidd reasoned. "Although, it's not like it'll have a lot of effect. At the end of the day, we're different from humans, but progress is progress."
"As a guard in Vizima, I've seen how humans covet different traits of other creatures," Vincent retorted. "Elven beauty and their longevity, Dwarves' expertise in metallurgy, mages' magical abilities. Sure, learning about us may remove the fear, but once they know, humans will start to envy us. Eventually, kings will try to make us their loyal hounds, sorcerers will treat us as lab rats, and hunters will hunt us for trophies."
"Your experience as a Viziman guard has certainly tainted your outlook on life," Blaidd chuckled. "But you're right. The question is, can they really do all that to us?"
"You seem to have a lot of faith in our abilities," Vincent snorted.
"The moon will guide us and strengthen us," Blaidd replied confidently.
"Sometimes, you behave like a beast, and other times like a priest," Vincent commented.
Blaidd sighed, "I am a priest, but not in the conventional sense. Our gods instructed us to abide by their rules and use their gifts for our own benefit, but they didn't instruct us to worship them. Although, one could argue that being a werewolf is a form of worship in itself."
Vincent, playing with his necklace, interjected, "Enough of theology talk. At this point, I'm probably blaspheming the goddess."
"You're mistaken, my friend," Blaidd reassured him, patting his back. "I told you, they didn't demand worship. You could honor them like your ancestors, forefathers, or anything else, and still worship Melitele. It's not as complicated as you might think."
Vincent emitted a soft melody, humming to himself in contemplation. "So what path shall we take now?" he asked, his tone seeking guidance.
"What do you mean?" Blaidd inquired, raising his brow in confusion.
"Do I... follow you?" Vincent asked, his words hesitant.
"To where exactly?" Blaidd was befuddled.
Vincent noticed Blaidd's perplexity and became confused himself. "I assumed that we were a pack, and—"
Blaidd let out a scoff, his eyes rolling slightly. "Oh no, you're the one who needs to make a pack," he said, his tone biting. "You think traveling together is efficient? That's... dumb."
Vincent's brow furrowed, his eyes narrowing slightly. "But I thought we were supposed to work together,"
Blaidd shook his head, a small smile playing at his lips. "As long as you follow the rules I've told you, turn anyone, human or not, to your pack," he instructed. "You'll be the leader, the uh... Athro, and you have to find your own children, brethren so to speak, your Adrens, your Fosterns, and your Cliaths."
Vincent's eyebrow twitched, his eyes glazing over with confusion. "I have no idea what you just said," he admitted, his voice tinged with frustration.
Blaidd let out a small sigh, his eyes closing briefly. "Ugh, I'll explain to you later, it's quite long," he said, his tone apologetic. "Just know that in the grand scheme of things, you are an Athro, a rank in the society."
Vincent couldn't help but feel a wave of doubt wash over him, his mind reeling with questions. "And what are you?" he asked, his voice laced with curiosity.
"I'm an elder," Blaidd replied simply, his tone matter-of-fact.
Vincent's eyes narrowed slightly, his mind whirring with thoughts. "How can I be one?" he asked tentatively, his voice tinged with uncertainty.
Blaidd let out a small shrug, his eyes glancing around the room. "Don't know, beg to the three wolves I guess," he said with a small chuckle. "Look, you can stay in Vizima as a guard, or travel to the south or north, I don't care. Though, if you really want to come back to the city, you need to think of a good reason for your sudden disappearance. And shave your head, be bald."
Vincent's eyes widened slightly, his mind racing with questions. "Alright, how can I contact you if something happened?" he asked, his voice tinged with worry.
"Howl. As loud as possible," Blaidd instructed, setting the bowl down on the ground with a clatter. "I'll get some papers to write about the basics of managing a pack. You can read, right?"
Vincent scoffed. "I'm a guard. Of course I can read."
"Great, I didn't have to waste more time." Blaidd said. "I'll be staying for a couple more days in the city if you have any questions. Oh, sorceresses might try to seduce you if they know you're like me, so be prepared for that."
Vincent froze. "What? Sorceresses are interested in me?"
"Well… maybe not." Blaidd murmured, looking at the pot belly and the rather ugly face. "Though, maybe a desperate one would."
"Oh, fuck off."