[Story] Feathermoon
January 13, 2012 Leave a comment
Stormpelt crouched on the cliffside overlooking Feathermoon. Though her sense of smell was not what it once was, she could smell many things: the salty kiss of the sea, the smoke from fires, perhaps even some food cooking over it. She had no need to eat, but the smell made her pause and sniff carefully all the same. She remembered eating, and remembered that it was almost the nicest thing. The nicest thing was Frostmoon, but Frostmoon was never coming back again.
There were a lot of people in this town, more than at the shrine. And while the druids at the shrine paid little attention to her, these people watched her intently. They all carried sharp things, and things that shot at you like stinging thorns. Stormpelt didn’t know what she had done to upset them so much, but she gave the town a wide berth after that. She wanted to see Leaves, and Berries, and the pup. They were her pack. But the others kept her from them. If only she tried harder! Stormpelt lay her head down on her paws and watched the town.
Sometimes the hoof-whelps came too, Stormpelt saw them gather around the glowing water as they had at Hyjal. They were happy. Did they think about Stormpelt at all? She did not want to go away. Leaves was a fine Master, better than her first, and far better than her second. She liked the woods here, too. They were dense and green, they smelled young and ancient all at once. There were animals in the forest too, not like on Hyjal where they had all fled before the flames. Here, bears roamed the hills, and many things she’d never seen before: tall hairy animals with horns on their heads, muscular things that hooted and called to each other, small animals that stood on their hind legs and chittered if you got too close. But most intriguing were the wolves. They weren’t as large as she and her former pack, but Stormpelt knew they were wolves, all the same. She’d smelled them, and she knew they could smell her. So far, they bristled and showed their teeth if she got too near, but she hoped that in time they would allow it. Stormpelt almost forgot what it was to run with a pack, the exhilaration of the hunt while your pack-mates panted at your side.
She looked down at the town. She couldn’t see Leaves or any of them anymore. After the sun fell, she’d return to check on them. Now, she wanted to run.