I Refuse

Lick. Lick. CRUNCH!

Rich shot up, ripping a now throbbing thumb away from the pain. He clutched at his wrist, whipping his head to the side to glare at what had bit him.

“Hey! I told you to stop- that…” Rich stumbled along the last word as he stared at the form of a large wolf, with grey fur running from muzzle to tail and a white underbelly stretching down to each paw. The wolf barked, sat still with a wagging tail and a lolling tongue.

“Little glutton?” Rich nearly whispered out, still coming to grips with such a powerful animal being this close to his face.

With another bark the wolf pounced on him, forcing him back down into the grass and lapping playfully at his face. Fear melted away into a fit of laughter as Rich wrapped his arms around the beast. He wasn’t sure how, but this was his little stray. He just knew it.

As the wolf relaxed on his chest, he allowed his arms to fall into the grass beside him. Then the thought struck him. There was no grass around his property, he lived in the city.

He took a proper look around again, finding himself along the edge of a large grassland by the end of the woods. He craned his neck behind him, looking up the small hill that blocked further view of the area. Shouting could be heard beyond the hill, but he couldn’t make any of it out yet.

“Alright boy, off…” he muttered, pushing the wolf off with a grunt. He sat up again, pulling himself into a cross-legged position. He blinked for a moment, only now noticing the lack of pain he’d normally feel from sitting up like this after a fight. He looked down at what should have been his body, and instead found one wearing a green tunic and dark linen pants. Pointed brown boots sat beneath each knee. He grabbed his tunic and pulled it out, staring down at a body that he did not recognize. His mouth held agape, Rich’s mind did it’s best to click together some sort of logical reason.

“Wh… what. What kind of renaissance fair looking motherf–”

“Fulcher!” A voice cried from the top of the hill. “My lord! Get away from that wolf!”

A man glad in studded leather armor carefully ran down the hill, leaving the woods behind and entering the field as he drew a sword. He wore green, the same shade that Rich had on.

Did he call me… Fulcher?

The wolf beside him growled, standing between Rich and the charging man. Without much of a second thought, Rich found himself lunging forward to wrap his arms around the animal.

“No! Stop! This dog saved me!” Rich called out.

The charging man skidded to a halt a few feet before them, though his blade swayed gently in preparation for taking down the animal.

“That is no dog My Lord! That is a foul beast!” The man said, eyes never leaving the potential foe. From the top of the hill more silhouettes appeared, numerous additional armored men as well as several women in soft blues robes. Despite the crowd, Rich’s eyes trained on one figure immediately, as if he knew to look upon him. A tall man with black hair and a furled beard sat atop a muscular black stallion. A jeweled crown sat on his head, with four equidistant emeralds encrusted the outer rim. He wore green armor similar to the men around him, but it was covered by a golden tabard with the symbol of a silver crown. Beside him stood an older man with grey hair and a scarred eye. His armor was a colorless grey plate, as if time itself has stripped the color from it over a century ago. He stood with his arms resting on the hilts of two blades on either side of his form.

“What is happening?” The saddled man barked out.

“Sire! The Prince claims this animal saved his life!” The nearby man shouted back. The saddled man stared directly at Rich, his gaze piercing the gap between them in an instant.

“What now, boy? You make a mockery of this sport with your little disappearing stunt, and now I find you without your steed cuddling up with the only good hunt we’ve seen all day?” The man sneered.

Rich put the pieces together slowly in real time. Whatever was happening, he had to try and get out of it alive. More than that, he wanted to make sure this pup got out with him. If he was some kind of Prince, and this man was some kind of King, maybe he could use his status to get out of the situation.

“I.. trained him! I trained him to follow and aid me whenever I was in danger!” Rich blurted out. A lie, but it seemed like an easy one to follow up on. He had taught the stray how to sit, so he may be able to trick his way out of the situation.

“Train him? What nonsense. Take out your dagger and kill the mangy thing already.” The man glared down at him.

Rich scrambled to his feet. He had to think of a name quickly. Something that would catch the attention of the stray and get his eyes onto him.

I can’t just call him Little Glutton, or Stray? Come on, Rich… what’s a good name! He’s loud? He bites… he’s as quick as an…

“Arrow!” He called out. Within an instant the wolf looked at him, seemingly only alerted to the loud call he had made.

“Sit!” He commanded. The wolf did so, licking his chops. Rich smiled at him and lowered his voice.

“Sorry buddy, we aren’t playing for treats right now. Speak!” He said. The wolf barked once, twice, thrice! On the hill the attendants began to giggle. Rich aimed his fingers with two finger guns next.

“Bang bang!” He said as he mimicked firing two guns. The wolf flopped onto his side, wiggling for a moment before stilling with his tongue hanging out.

A chuckle escaped the armored man atop the hill, and he rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
“Maybe, Sire, he meant to surprise you with this little show of his animal husbandry.” The man quipped, watching on with a twinkle in his eye. The Sire sneered.

“Very well, boy. You may keep this trick-beast so long as you care for it. At a minimum we can let it loose within the keep and hunt it indoors if it acts out. We head home!” He called out, whipping the reins of the stallion. As it turned and disappeared back behind the hill, the rest of the assorted people followed. The man at the bottom eyed Arrow with suspicion, but marched back up the hill with the others.

Rich breathed out a sigh as he patted Arrow’s head.

“Come on boy… We may be far from home, but as long as we’re together we can figure out what to do.” He said, taking his own steps up the hill and into the woods.