Arrival

The beasts bared their fangs. The growling and vicious snarling made the less-than-hardened defenders flinch in fear. The dark-furred dire wolves approached, their ears laid back against their skulls. Their claws dug into the dirt in their approach, with one lying low, ready to pounce.

The farmers, using pitchforks and other tools of the land, held them out with shaking hands. Their frantic eyes stared into the unnaturally red spheres of their predators. His fear, bringing him to protect his family, could only afford so much courage before he found himself on the ground. Fangs snapped near his face as he held the wolf back from tearing into his flesh, with a garden tool being the only thing from meeting a grim end.

The other wolves, four in their number, rushed forward. They threw themselves at the defensive line, being held back by a meager militia of five men. Their efforts were waning at the very start, as the beast that held its prey down broke through towards the town center.

An object whistled past its head, striking the ground near it. The distraction forced the predator to hesitate from going further, its eyes locking onto the object. An arrow, stabbed into the ground, stood before it. The wolf scanned and sniffed the air, detecting something close by, something with murderous intent.

Its eyes landed on another defender a distance away, perched atop a two-story building. The Human pulled another projectile from his person, nocking it into the bow he carried. The wolf stared at the ambusher, then back near the town square, open and free. Its ears picked up another whistling sound before another projectile struck the ground, close this time.

“Dammit!” The young Human cursed, preparing another arrow.

The wolf flinched, looked at the archer, hesitated again, then howled. It raised its head, releasing a call. Another dire wolf broke from the conflict, blood coated its fangs and fur. Their communication worked in tandem, as the second dire wolf took note of the archer. Growling, it moved, bolting towards nearby crates that allowed it to reach high ground.

The archer’s brown eyes widened in surprise at the beast’s cunning and speed. The dire wolf lunged once in range, forcing the archer to shift backward off of his foot to avoid his shoulder being torn into. Landing on his feet, the Human’s heart hammered from the exhilaration, danger, and fear that fell from him. The dire wolf encroached on him, growling and ready to pounce.

Another arrow was nocked as the wolf moved again. Time seemed to slow as the archer stared at the blood-stained fanged beast, realizing his own blood would no doubt fill the beast’s mouth. He cursed himself as a flash of steel arced before him. The dire wolf’s body emitted a sickening crunch, with barely enough time for it to fully cry from the pain that tore through its ribs.

The lifeless body of the red-stained beast spiraled into the ground with a bloody crash. The archer turned back to whatever killed it and nearly saw the eyes of another beast’s slit pupils looming over him. This one stood on two legs, draped in dark fur that appeared the drape from its head and to its shoulders, with the rest of its body garbed in thick leather hides and cloth. Parts of their lean, porcelain skin remained uncovered around the abdomen and the obvious cleavage; the archer realized this was no beast but a woman of intimidating stature.

The human archer stared at this towering figure, his eyes catching those upturned, elongated ears on the sides of her head. The profile of the woman’s face came clear from the side, recognizing a female Elf’s features: full lips, bright green eyes, and an angular nose and jawline. With the slightest movement, the man eyed her hand gripping a large iron sword, now stained with fresh blood.

The Elven woman moved, displacing herself from the building’s rooftop to the ground below with her furred cloak flowing behind her. He sat there, no longer stunned at the prospect of death, but at the sheer, breathtaking arrival of such an intimidating creature.

As if sensing the death of one of its own, a loud bellowing howl cried out from the forest itself. The call reverberated through the town, giving pause to everyone who heard it. On cue, the dire wolves’ ears perked up, their attack halted by something greater. Abandoning their advance, the remaining beasts rushed from the town’s vicinity, leaving their fallen behind.

The Elven woman rushed to the threshold of the town’s main gate, sword in hand. As the last of the dire wolves disappeared into the thick trees, away from the traveled path, one remained. It turned to face her, making eye contact, studying this new beastly element. The woman stared back, sensing something intelligent behind the steel gaze. The wolf darted off into the shadow of the trees, where the mists consumed its form, but their presence remained watching and waiting.