Zetha Alcor List
038. Victory
Characters: Fenrir
Rating: PG-13
Warning: Bloody imagery ahead.
The blood ran down his throat, it tasted like metal or something of the sort, the only thing he’d ever tried like that was the old keys of his parents’ manor when he was nothing but a child and his nanny had scolded him. This was so much better. He could feel it, warm and challenging at the same time, the heart of the animal still beating, he could feel it hitting his forehead as he buried his human fangs near its stomach and drank avidly.
That was how Jin had taught him to hunt, follow your prey, let it know you’re there, never retreat and most of all, be flawless when bringing death to it. The excitement it brought him was nothing compared to what he had felt before, when he had abandoned his pack and had run with Jin just a few meters away from him, watching him in silence. Jin had howled when he’d caught his prey and had let him eat it alone. No one would bother him. Not even him, the alpha of the pack.
Fenrir learnt that day about loyalty, when he withdrew from the animal, and moved aside, the dorsum of his hand moving over his mouth and then he licked it. He motioned towards Jin, asking him to eat from his prey, to honour him by accepting the offering. Yet Jin made him eat alongside him. It was their triumph and it was their day to rejoice.
They heard shots in the distance and this time Fenrir didn’t flinch. He had forgotten how to do it. Jin and the other wolves had taught him not to fear what he already knew. Make the mistake and learn from it had been the silent lesson, and he’d learnt it well. The four-legged animals ran away noiseless. Even Jin had run to a safe place, just to see Fenrir observe the two-legged ones. The wolf would simply stare at him, seeing that flicker of hatred and melancholy he so feared. He had seen the same emotions in Fenrir when he’d been a child and his family had been killed before his eyes. He was the alpha of the pack, he knew.
He feared one day, Fenrir would run to the two-legged and leave him. Sometimes, he longed for it. This time, he was expecting it.
However, Fenrir just turned his back to the humans. He still walked liked them, but smelt like a wolf. Jin could smell it in the air, the blood still staining Fenrir’s face and a small line of it ran out of the corner of his mouth. He was grinning, and the wolf understood the gesture.
Jin waited for him and as he reached him, they walked together to the old house where Fenrir always returned. It was big, was falling apart, but it was also warm and when sleeping one next to the other, it felt the right place to be. They both knew that night, their hunting had been completed. Fenrir had silently faced his demons and on that day, Fenrir had won. He had watched the humans and had made his final decision. He would be one of them until the day of the Ragnarok. He would feed with them, off the forest and he would be his own Lord. Only Odin was above him, and perhaps, one day, if he called him, Fenrir would listen to his voice.
Perhaps.
Ariadne, January 25, 2007