How Loud Are the Drums of War?

Ephraim Fisher · 10-24-2011, 08:13 PM

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Love Sky and Ephy. xDD

Word Count → 453

With each bite, Ephraim fell deeper into the past—and to a primal, aggressive state brought on by months of hard winter and no food. He remembered the wolf that had rose to challenge him for his kill, and he remembered the claws digging into his biceps in the struggle. He remembered the pulse dying in the animal’s throat, and he remembered that he hadn’t given the body a chance to grow cold. He’d had a full stomach then, and insanity encroached on him again now.

His state of mind was such that, when secui Sky came to bite into the timber’s throat, a deep growl rose in the quarter-dog’s chest. Bloodied teeth flashed, and he thought about gripping her thick brown scruff and tossing her to the ground. This was his kill—but a second passed and the lucidity returned to his brown eyes. Head cocked doggishly, he released his hold on the man when he realized that the struggles had ceased; his life was pouring out, staining the blanket crimson and dripping onto the floor of the cottage.

A tongue rasping over his fur made the eunuch finally smile, and he turned his head to watch Sky as she loped over to the window, telling him that the battle was outside. It clicked that they could get out of the cabin now—them and all the other prisoners. His ears flicked then swiveled to the sound of sobbing in the corner of the room; a pair of other pack’s wolves crouched there, the girl facing away fearfully and the boy standing protectively before her.

The man contemplated saying something to them, but the tawny woman looked traumatized as it was, and he was aware of blood staining his bottom jaw and throat like a bib. Instead, he turned to Sky and smirked at her devious tone of voice as she pointed out there was backup. It didn’t seem the pair of them needed rescuers, but any kind of help was welcome.

“Shall we?” Sky asked, standing at the door, and Ephraim giggled before striding over to it. He twisted the knob and flung it open, greeted by the sight of the rescuers running forward to storm the cabin. They smelled of a few different packs, one AniWayan but not unwelcome as she didn’t seem to be aiding the enemy.

“Let’s have at it, precious,” Ephraim cooed at his friend, gesturing for her to run forward. He remained in the doorway, his shape buckling as he shifted into a similarly muscular—if much fluffier—secui form. The process would take a couple of minutes, but he hoped that the rescuers and Sky could handle the one Guardian left so he wasn’t vulnerable.

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