Rurik froze for half a heartbeat as the wolf's howl echoed through the forest, low and haunting. His blood ran cold—not from fear, but from the realization of how dire the situation had become.
"Maria!" he called again, his voice sharper now, urgency pounding in his chest. The indifference he deliberately cultivated all but forgotten.
But there was no answer. Only the faint sounds of snapping twigs and rustling leaves ahead.
Rurik pressed forward, his heart hammering in his chest. The trail was clearer now, Maria's small, frantic footprints disturbed the moss and pine needles. She hadn't been running with care, her desperation evident in the erratic path she took.
Then, he finally heard something: a stifled sob, faint and frightened.
He pushed through a dense thicket and emerged into a small clearing, lit dimly by the moonlight filtering through the branches. His heart clenched. There was Maria, standing frozen in the middle of the clearing, her small frame trembling.
And on the far side, stepping out from the shadows, was a wolf.
It was lean and grey, its coat blending almost perfectly with the silvery light of the moon. Its amber eyes locked onto Maria and matching her own, its stance low, head tilted slightly as if assessing her.
Rurik's body reacted on instinct.
"Maria! Don't move!" His voice cut through the stillness like an arrow.
The wolf's ears flicked at the sound, and it turned its head toward Rurik. It was alone for now, but he doubted it would last. They were now several hundred meters away from the camp, which was far enough that a pack of wolfs might be prowling around, attracted to the smell of roasting meat.
He knew wolves rarely hunted solo, and doubted they were lucky enough to catch a rare outcast. More likely, this was a scout, and the rest of the pack wasn't far behind.
Maria let out a small whimper, her legs wobbling. She stumbled backward, nearly tripping over a root.
"Stay where you are!" Rurik commanded, his tone firm but steady, his adult discipline overriding the panic that his young body wanted to feel. He stepped forward slowly, deliberately putting himself between Maria and the wolf.
The wolf growled low, a deep rumble that vibrated through the clearing. Its lips curled back to reveal sharp, yellowed teeth.
Rurik bent down without breaking eye contact with the wolf, his hands slowly reaching down to pull the knife he kept strapped to his lower leg. From the moment he awakened his memories, he never went anywhere without a weapon anymore.
Slowly, carefully, he took a combat stance, crouching down slightly, and backhanding the blade in his right hand as he held both hands in front of him.
"Maria," he said again, this time quieter. "I need you to listen very carefully. When I say go, you run back to camp as fast as you can. Do you hear me?"
Maria sniffled, her voice barely a whisper. "But—"
"No buts!" he barked, his voice sharp enough to snap her out of her panic. "You run, and you don't stop until you find the adults. They've probably already been alerted by the howl, so point them in the right direction. I'll handle this."
The wolf took a cautious step forward, its muscles coiled like a spring, ready to pounce. Rurik adjusted his grip on the knife and shouted, loud and forceful, "GO!"
Maria hesitated for only a second before turning and bolting into the forest.
For a moment, Rurik focused on the one wolf, but then he heard another howl… behind him. His ears twitched. In his past life, he and Luna had stuck their greedy fingers in a great many pies, including mercenary work. Rurik had been in a great many fights in his time, and the combat instincts he'd honed during greatly varying circumstances took over.
With a shout, he turned around as he took his knife by the blade. In a single glance he realized the situation. No more than ten meters behind him, another wolf was about to jump into a sprint and chase after Maria.
Without thinking about it, he aimed and threw his blade with all the power his trained but young body could muster. Fortunately, while actual sword fighting wasn't a part of his previous life, knife throwing was. It was a silent, efficient method of killing that he quite enjoyed and had mastered over many years of practice.
Yet, he had no time to see if he'd hit his mark. He turned around just in time to see the first wolf lunging at him, growling, maw opened wide, claws outstretched.
Rurik knew he could never compete with this creature for power. On pure instinct, but with practiced footwork, he barely evaded the wolf's lunge.
At the same time, he heard a yelp. Glancing in that direction, he noticed his knife had buried its way into the second wolf's shoulder and the creature crashed to the ground with a whine, his leg unable to continue supporting him. He also heard Maria's footsteps still continuing into the distance as he sighed in relief.
Yet, the troubles weren't over. His current opponent had recovered quickly.
"Come on. Let's see what you've got," Rurik muttered to pump himself up and drive away the doubt. Meanwhile, he pulled the backup knife from his other leg. One of the first harsh lessons he'd learned in his past life was to always have a backup. Yet, he could already feel the muscles in his small arms beginning to protest.
The wolf feinted another attack, testing him, but Rurik held his ground. He stamped his foot and shouted, trying to buy time, and appear more intimidating than he was.
Then, just as he braced for another attack, a third howl echoed through the forest, not too far away. His stomach dropped. The pack was coming.
He knew he couldn't run. Showing fear or turning your back on them was the worst thing you could do. There was no doubt they were faster than him.
The wolf made a few more lunges, but Rurik managed to avoid them, even dealing some small cuts to his opponent. Unfortunately, he was tiring quickly. Hatefully, he cursed his young body. He'd been training hard for years now, but he still couldn't break the curse of being a child.
The howls were closer now, and he knew he didn't have much time left. "Any day now, Maria," he muttered under his breath.
The wolf lunged again, and Rurik's trembling legs stumbled slightly. He wasn't quick enough this time. Its claws raked across his right arm, tearing through his tunic and drawing blood. He bit back a cry of pain, but managed to hold on to his weapon as he swung his knife wildly, forcing the wolf back.
Then, time was up.
Five more wolves entered the small clearing. Sharp teeth on display, ready to pounce. They started circling him, eyes shining with bloodlust, low growls leaving their throats.
"Shit…" Rurik growled, his eyes panning frantically past the teeth and claws that surrounded him, wondering which one would claim his life. Finally, he shot a quick glance up at the moon, as if saying goodbye.
Looking back down, he gripped his knife tightly, and growled back at the wolves, "Let's do this…"
But just as two wolves, one on either side, lunged forward, a roar echoed around them, "Keep your cursed teeth off my son, you worthless, walking pelts!"
It appeared Maria had succeeded in getting help… but would they be in time?