The village buzzed with activity as preparations for the Ritual of the Moon were underway. The ceremony was holy, a link between the pack and the forest that had brought the pack up in their times immemorial. All villagers, old and young, participated in the ritual. Women wove garlands of white and silver flowers, children scurried about gathering stones for the ceremonial fire, and the men prepared drums that would echo through the forest.
Zayne stood at the edge of the clearing, his small hands clutching a basket of herbs. His eyes blazed with feeling as he watched, fatherly, the taking of his life. Orion's aura was magnetic, his tone calming yet assertive, as he led the people.
"Zayne," Orion said, his booming voice piercing the din.
Zayne darted forward, nearly tripping over his own feet. "Yes, Father?"
"These herbs," Orion said, pointing to the basket. They have to be smashed and dumped in the pyramidal bowl. Do you remember how your mother taught you?"
Zayne nodded eagerly. "Yes! Lavender for peace, sage for power and, yarrow for bravery.
Orion smiled, his pride evident. "Good. Go, then. And be careful not to spill."
"Okay, father." He responded.
When Zayne bolted off to finish his mission, Liora made her way up to Orion, her blonde hair glowing in the warm, fading light of the day.
He's eager to grow, to show himself off as a good child," she said, looking at her son, smiling.
"He'll be a great Alpha one day," Orion replied. "But not yet. For now, let him be a boy."
In the neighborhood, Zayne knelt down and ground the herbs just as his mother had taught him. Watching his father, Zayne pugnosed the herbs as he crushed them. To him, Orion was everything he aspired to be—strong, wise, and respected by everyone. Would he ever live up to his father's Alpha gene? The thought both thrilled and terrified him.
Shortly thereafter Liora appeared and knelt beside him, and gently touched his shoulder.
"Do you know why we do this, Zayne? she asked softly.
In the spirit of honoring the forest", Zayne answered, his little fingers busy. And as a token of appreciation to the moon which has guided us how to go.
Liora smiled. "Yes. But it's also a reminder of our responsibility. Being part of the pack mentality is to defend the pack and the forest. An Alpha's power is more than just his power, it lies in his protection of his brethren.
Zayne paused, her words sinking in. "Like you and Father?"
Yes, she said, pushing a stray lock of hair from his cheek. "One day, you'll understand the weight of that responsibility. But for now, focus on your task. The moon waits for no one."
As the sun went down the horizon, villagers gathered in the clearing and encircled the sacred fire in a circle. As the flames swayed to the beat of the drums, they threw dancing shadows which themselves seemed to have a beat in common with the drum's heart pulsation. The children, now clustered around one another, sat in rapt attention as an elder told stories of past rites, their eyes shining with awe.
Orion came to the center of the circle and his presence sent everyone to stillness. He raised his arms, his voice resonating with authority. Tonight we celebrate the connection we share with the forest and the moon. May their guidance and protection be with us always."
This involved the observation with open mouth while his father carried out the ceremony, the low resonance of his deep voice and the chants of the villagers, resonating in the village square. He experienced an impetus of pride, picturing himself in that location one day.
But as the ceremony reached its crescendo, a haunting sound echoed through the forest—a distant howl, low and mournful. It sent a shiver down Zayne's spine. The howl rolled through the clearing, up to feeling chillingly otherworldly even as the wind seemed to repeat the sound. The villagers exchanged uneasy glances, their movements stilled as if the forest itself held its breath. Orion's pupils constricted, his posture straight, and Zayne watched his father's fist reflexively squeeze toward the dagger at his waist.
"What was that? Zayne whispered to Liora, who stood beside him.
Most likely just a feral wolf," Liora muttered, but her usual confidence did not reach her voice. When the howl resounded from the woods, Liora's heart beat fast. She forced herself to smile at Zayne, hiding the growing unease that coiled in her chest. It was her duty to remain calm, to shield her son from the worries that plagued her mind. However, deep down, she was powerless to deny the feeling that someone was watching them from the darkness.
With keen eyes Orion looked out at the tree branches, and sensors Awoke. However, after a pause, he went on with the ceremony, his voice firm and unbending.
Thus the ceremony closed on a good cheer from the crowd but a feeling of unease hung over proceedings. Zayne was not easily able to forget that the howl was not just a howl.
As the villagers dispersed, Orion pulled Liora aside. "Did you hear it?"
"I did," she said, her expression grave. "Do you think it's—"
"I don't know," Orion interrupted. "But we need to stay vigilant."
Unknowingly of parent's strife, Zayne spent that night laying in bed, gazing out his window at the moon. Its silvery gleam filled the forest in an eerie light, but the deep howling echoed in his mind again and again a spectre that never left him.
The forest has always felt like home, but tonight it seemed to murmur the fear of what is yet to come.
As Zayne lay in bed, the rustling of leaves outside his window seemed louder than usual, as if the forest itself was restless. Shadow limbs twisted and stretched in the moonlight and produced shapes that immediately disappeared after creation. He seemed to have heard the tearing of a twig, although feeble and purposeful, and his pulse quickened. 'It's just the wind,' he told himself, but the weight of the howl still hung heavy in his chest.