Many multitude, aside from confident IE, fear going into woods. Trees grow tall and deep ; oppressive darkness hid tool that would break the soul idea. brute prowl and stalk helpless wanderers ; capital and pocket-sized entities have been known to make citizenry disappear to hold back their secrets. While bountiful with flora and biz in this particular region, the native people had abandoned it long ago to please the wolf multitude who guarded the lands.

Beyond the expansive woodland was a compass of mountains where cloud dusted the lands with hard snow. On the former incline, rough beaches remained uninfluenced for respective year. Every now and then, a boat would crash to the shore, but survivors never made it to any of the native human lands.

On this cool winter morning, on this same beach, cold waves brushed along the face of a body that lay among the rocks. Next to the pale figure were planks of wood- evidence of a ship that had been dashed against deadly rocks that guarded against intruders.

The rocks crunched lightly as a hunter poked along the wreckage. Others from their troupe investigated the organic structure found further down the beach. The young male, called Aitu by his people, scanned the ocean horizon from under their hood, nose twitch at the heavy odor of salt.

Glancing down at the consistence, the hunter nudged the human with the blunt end of his shaft. To his surprise, the man gave a groan. Then he coughed, and glob of H2O and the bluish hue of his pelt returned to blench pink.

The Orion knelt down and grabbed the human by his brusk, blond hair holding him up to get a good look at him. Young, with a few scars and a previously broken nose, a soft beard was growing on his docile jaw. He was dressed in fabric wearing apparel with leather arm guards, boots, and robe ; a sword hung at his side.

Taking the steel, the hunter admired the craftsmanship of the pleach alloy and wrapped handle. Looking over his shoulder, he attached the blade to his side and called out to the others. There was one individual still alive.

Everyone gathered around and examined the young man.

"Scrawny,"commented one.

"Bad luck,"said another.

They all paused and thought, some suggesting to kill the stranger. The oldest among them shook his headland."We take him to the priest-doctor. We make no decision without his say."

Reluctantly the rest agreed, and one of the largest offered to carry the half-drowned man back to the colonisation."Maybe the priest-doctor will let us celebrate this one like the early who washed on our shoring,"said the large hunter. He grinned, showing sharp teeth, adding,"Should pay her a visit when we return."

"Do you mean with anything other than your pecker, Torlarrin ?"

"Rarely !"He and the other Hunter broke into laugh as they journeyed into the forest.

As they crossed the border and darkness overtook them, an conjuration that disguised many of them faded away. Bodies grew tall and became covered in diverse tone of duncish fur. olfactory organ and mouths stretched to create muzzles with fleshy inglorious noses. hired hand broadened and reshaped into paws.

The golosh Moon folk was one of the mass who had been blessed by the spirits long ago with the shape of the wolf. Many chose to live their lives in their lycanthropic phase. Some families had lost their human body over the centuries. Those in the hunting parties had to have the power to disguise themselves as human if outsiders crossed their path.

As they entered the liquidation, some of the grouping broke off to deliver their collection of scavenged goods from the wreckage and the Hunt. The eternal sleep continued forward, feeling eyes on them as they headed to the priest-doctor's tent. Unlike the hunting watch dressed in their human garb, the others of the village in wolf bodies wore little habiliment aside from ornamental jewelry. Bright tribal tattoos were painted or permanently etched into their fur.

A few adult followed the hunter into the shaman's tent. mother held squalling sister and curious yearling, keeping them from pursuing their fathers and blood brother. inside, the air was strong. A soft fire glowed in the essence of the plenteous distance. Around the pit were furs and goosedown pillows for visitor. The priest-doctor lay with one of his married woman while the other worked at a loom toward the back.

The shaman, an senior Wolf of colored grey fur and golden eyes, sat up, his beads clicking softly in his head of hair and in the jewelry around his neck and weaponry. He took the paw of the mate at his side and gave it a kiss, telling her to waitress before stepping forward to greet the crowd.

"My fry, you return with a human ?"

Aitu knelt before him, trying to keep on the sword he had taken hidden under his cloak."Shaman Vatea, we do not mean to commove you, but we seek your guidance."

Shaman Vatea tilted his head. He took a cryptical breath, taking in the salty perfume that stuck to the human. He smelled of far away, a stranger much like one they had found before."A Stephen Samuel Wise decisiveness, Aitu. Torlarrin, set him before me. Let's wake the homo and find out why it is here."

Torlarrin, now a brawny, ruddy-brown brute, huffed and laid the homo on the ground. The priest-doctor uncorked a bottleful given to him by one of his wife ; each nozzle in the field twitched as the fragrance of acid SALT pierced their senses. shaman Vatea held the bottle under the human being's nose.

On the terra firma, Dyri's nose was assaulted by a terrible smell. He gagged and coughed, sitting up and swatting away whatever the matter was. Blinking his oculus, he looked around as his vision came into focus.

Before him was a enceinte black wolf-like wight. Dyri yelped and tried to scribble away, only to bump into stiff legs. He was met with a more mighty brown wolf when he looked up. All around him were wolfmen and men dressed in wolf hide. wolfman ? What afterlife had the divinity plunged him in to be surrounded by lycanthrope ?

"human,"said the black wildcat ; the grey around his center and muzzle and the authority in his voice marked him as an elder of some importance."Human why have you come ?"

Dyri's mouth hung open. He couldn't speak as fear gripped his throat tighter than a snake.

The elder savage sat back, the beads in his braided mane clicking as they moved."I am shaman Vatea. You are commanded to speak and answer for your trespassing. You are not from these lands, therefore you threaten the condom of our tribe with evil disembodied spirit. Speak so that you may experience choice in your fate. If you do not, you will die here and now !"

"Expedition !"Dyri finally exclaimed."I- I was part of an dispatch with a large crew of men and cleaning woman looking for new land."He glanced around, examining the other human but saw no one he recognized."Are there… Have you killed my companions ?"

The priest-doctor turned his center to the hunters, who shook their heads. To Dyri, he said,"It seems only you survived."

Shaman Vatea rose to his foot and took the ritual staff from one of his wives. The former gave him a sac of herbaceous plant which he packed into a limited pipe. Lighting the herbs, Vatea took a deeply breathing time and opened his thinker to the word of the life. Voices filled his judgement, each offer advice or demand. He closed his center and considered their words carefully.

Around him, his pack, those he considered children under his guidance, waited in muteness. He could smack the sweat on the human's flesh. Feel the energy wafting off of him like a miasma of ill intent. Spirits from wherever he came from had followed and were looking for mischief.

A voice whispered in Vatea's ear, making it riff with involvement. With one last inhale from the tube, Vatea blew the smoke through his nostril then rattled the bones on his stave to dismiss remaining spirits. His wives lit special incense around the tent to cleanse the air.

Vatea took a rear before the human."The spirits have spoken. You will not be harmed here, human, so long as you do as they bid."

At first, Dyri was relieved these tool were offering him mercy. However, the foreign smiling on the priest-doctor's fount told him there was more to it. He waited for the elder to extend ; when he didn't, Dyri prompted him,"And… ?"

The shaman leaned back, wrapping his arms around the shoulder joint and waistline of his wife, two beautiful white Friedrich August Wolf. His smirk grew wider as he explained,"You, human being, may last out in our settlement under one condition only. Refusal means death. You are to drive a new name, farm out your hair and tress it, and take on the roles as performed by our women."The shaman extended a clawed finger, pointing to Dyri."You are to turn a woman of the kin group and dish up our people as one. In all direction. ”