The Leader of the Pack
| The rustling of a nearby rose bush startled a large, mangy wolf from his prowling. Protective of his territory by nature, along with the great pack leader, his head jerked up, intently watching the bush’s vibrant pink flowers for any further sign of movement. The wolf’s ears twitched, perked, his highly sensitive nose sniffing for intruders, as a slight breeze rustled his grimy fur from behind, jostling the bush gently. No further outside forces seemed to be a disturbance, so the wolf diverted his attention elsewhere. He took a few steps away from the bush, along his usual patrol path. A sudden itchy nibbling behind one of his battle-torn ears caused the wolf to sit down suddenly and scratch feverishly with one of his hind legs at the site of annoyance. The wolf was just achieving relief from the horrible itch, nearly ready to shake his fur back into place and continue on his way, when a fatal slash was delivered to the back of his head. Letting out a surprised and pained yelp, the grungy wolf fell to the lush grass, dead. From behind the wolf’s corpse, a very large cat seemed to suddenly appear, wiping the wolf’s blood off its claws onto the grass. Its blue and purple fur blended in well with the dark forest environment, with only the white crescent moon-shaped marking on its shoulder easily visible. But when using Stealth, this particular cat was impossible to detect, unless one walked straight into it. A slight growl rumbled in the back of the cat’s throat as it calmly walked up to the corpse. It distastefully nudged the wolf with its snout, its glowing yellow eyes clearly stating disgust at the wolf’s stench and lack of hygiene. It took a few steps backwards, careful not to tread on its own tail, and swung its huge head side-to-side, to make sure it would not be ambushed by the wolf’s comrades, as it let a large, glittering gray cloud slowly surround itself. Within the cloud, the cat seemed to be physically morphing into another being – a humanoid being. Powerful hind legs became long and shapely human-like legs. Huge paws became graceful hands and feet. The soft fur melted away to revel purple-tinted skin. Long, flowing, vibrant purple hair with a tinge of silver grew from the figure’s head throughout the transformation. The tail shrunk back into the no longer feline, but female body. And lastly, the cat’s powerful snout merged back to become a beautiful face, deep purple markings around her eyes and cheeks. A human face, except for her eyes and ears. Her pupil-less eyes, no longer yellow, glowed with a vivacious silver, and extremely long, pointed ears stuck through her hair, decorated with many piercings and exotic earrings. But this was no human, by any standards. This was a night elf, and a powerful one at that. Her well-formed body was protected by the finest, handcrafted leather armor; light and flexible for freedom of movement, but still tough enough to withstand just about any physical attack. A wicked looking silver staff was strapped to her back, a silver glowing crescent moon on one end. Various rings and trinkets accessorized her to satisfaction, each separate symbol or gem with its own meaning and its own way of increasing attack and defense. As a druid, she was especially in tune with nature, her elfish ears picking up the sounds of the wild far better than a simple hunter or rogue would. She sensed that the freshly slain wolf’s brethren were nearby, and knelt down to search the corpse before they could discover her scent. A tiny trace of a grimace appeared on her lovely features as she searched the wolf’s filthy body for anything of value. Upon discovering a shimmering green jewel embedded in a thick, leather collar around the wolf’s neck, the elf flipped a small dagger out of her boot to gouge the jewel out. It released its hold easily, falling into her open hand. Placing the dagger back, she stood up and dropped the gem into one of the many pouches on her hip, along with many others of the same kind. The elf only had one more of these gems to collect before she could return to the nearby city of Stormwind, and it could only be found on the powerful leader of this wolf pack, dubbed ‘Grungeclaw’ by the humans in the local village. The gems were rumored to be cursed, and it was said that they were corrupting all natural life in northern Duskwood, the wolves in particular, transforming them from the once natural peace-seeking creatures they were to the vicious, merciless beasts she was assigned to slay. She was sent on a quest for a dwarven priest in Stormwind to retrieve ten of these gems for investigation, particularly the biggest and most powerful one worn by Grungeclaw. Sensing more wolves nearby, the night elf allowed herself to melt into her cat form once again. She unsheathed her razor-sharp claws as she merged with the shadows, stealthily prowling closer to where Grungeclaw kept watch, unseen to all who happened to look her way. She stayed hidden, even when she discovered Grungeclaw and his bodyguards, two large battle-scarred wolves, pacing alongside each other on top of a slightly elevated mound, directly in the center of the pack. She let herself creep closer to her target before she silently changed back into her natural form behind the three canines. She kept her staff at the ready as she held her hands out in front of her and closed her eyes. Under her breath, she whispered a few strange words in elfish, her palms glowing, vibrating heat. In the night sky, a star directly overhead glowed with sudden intensity, responding to the spell. An intense, burning beam of light fell upon the three wolves from this star, engulfing them completely. The two bodyguards, smaller and weaker than Grungeclaw, could not withstand the strong heat and blinding brightness of the starfire, and fell to the ground, their last moments spent howling and whimpering in pain. Grungeclaw, however, became infuriated at the intruder, and charged at the night elf, ignoring the heat burning into his flesh. His fur steamed slightly as he flew at his target, eyes burning with rage. But instead of locking his powerful jaws around her shoulder, a mighty blow from the elf’s Moonstaff struck the side of his head. He yelped slightly as he fell, disoriented, but he shook sense back into himself as he stood back up and faced his prey, crouched, ready to attack. The night elf herself was poised for battle. Her left arm out for defense, she kept her staff in her right hand, ready to strike this monster again and again until the light left his dirty gray eyes. Grungeclaw lunged at her feet, snapping at her, in an attempt to pull her feet out from under her, but the elf easily dodged his attack. Pleased that she fell for his feign, the great wolf jumped up from his close position and locked his saber-sharp teeth around her left arm, biting down as hard as he could. Letting out a cry of pain as she heard her bone crunch sickeningly, the elf twisted her body around, kicking and hitting him with her staff in such a way that it was impossible for him to maintain his grip. He tumbled to the ground but quickly righted himself, poised for another attack. The elf held her broken arm close to her body, protecting the now useless limb. She would be able to heal herself later, but it would be impossible to concentrate enough in the midst of battle. Now angry, she quickly placed her staff back into place on her back and raised her right hand high above her head, palm open and facing the sky. She spoke another elfish spell, similar to the previous one, her palm pulsing tinges of purple and blue. A different, brighter star and the sliver of a moon began to glow this time, the light getting stronger and stronger as the beam flew down to surround Grungeclaw. The combination of Starfire and Moonfire was almost too much for the great pack leader to bear, the initial force of the blast knocking him right off his feet. He struggled to regain his balance as he exerted all his energy into leaping out of the blinding, burning light. Now panting heavily, the blackened tips of his fur let off visible wisps of smoke, his eyes glowering weakly at the druid. Ready to finish him off, the elf stayed in her position of attack, loudly chanting the same words again, calling upon the moon and stars for aid. The wolf yelped and attempted to run away as he sensed the quickly approaching blast of heat again, but his effort to escape was futile. The powerful flash was upon him once again, and when he was knocked off his paws again, this time he didn’t get back up. The night elf stopped the attack from the sky once she sensed that the last breath escaped the wolf’s lungs. She walked up to his smoking, fallen corpse and crouched next to it, an aroma of freshly cooked meat filling the area. Still holding her broken and bleeding arm to her chest, she gouged the large, steaming gem out of a strong leather collar around Grungeclaw’s neck, picking it up with a cloth and adding it to the others. Standing up, she allowed a bright, green light to encircle her right palm for a few seconds before she gingerly placed her hand over her bloody arm. Within moments, the rips and bite marks had stopped bleeding and closed up, not even leaving a scar. She could feel her bone mending within her arm, removing splinters and realigning bent tissue. In less than a minute the only way one could tell she was injured was from the reddish-brown stains of dried blood on her body armor. A nearby howl suddenly alerted the night elf. Aware that the wolves’ extreme hunger would not stop them from feeding on the corpse of their own leader, she turned back towards the way she came and sprinted towards civilization, melding into her graceful form of the cat as she ran. Her name was Lanaia. |