ENCOUNTERMENTS OF THE DEAD

  Icalave glared at the others, demanding with the full strength of his eyes of what was going on. No one took notice of him out of the panic they had whilst Arssneq woke up from the violent shaking of the newest visible member. He could still feel the clutching of the black abyss and its horrible shaking that were sending tremors through his own body.
  “What is going on?!” Icalave demanded.
  “Shh. Keep your voice down Icalave!” whispered Rossmend in a hurried voice. “I will explain on the way as we get moving because here and now is the place that we DON’T want to be!” His voice was shaking and he sprinted off east with the others following behind. The object that had clung to him had now jumped off after them. He could hear the urgency in all of their steps, so without hesitation he followed.
  He ran as fast as his limbs would allow him, putting as much strength into each stride as he could so as to catch up with Rossmend who was in the lead. It was hard to find the right footing in the moonless light that the night had given him Rocks continued to appear out of nowhere in front of him, so with cunning skill he avoided most by only a slim chance. He could hear a small panicked, crying, panting sound directly in front of him, then soon collided with the black abyss again. They both fell heavily onto the ground, and Arssneq stopped a distance in front to turn back to help.
  “No!” shouted Icalave in a whisper, ”I will carry him! Get on my back now, quickly!” He then urged at the blackness. He then felt a heavy weight flop onto his back, and immediately started off again.
  It was harder work, but the shear panic of the group only made him more determined to get back into the lead. He pounded his feet against the ground, forcing himself to become more and more faster. He over took Arssneq, who was purposely holding back, because he knew full well that he was the fastest of the lot. Then he over took the newest white member, who’s scent strongly perfumed into his nose, the sweetness of it suddenly brought him back a memory of being in Blizlow Mountains. The memory brought him back to the fact that he had started being hunted whilst he had hunted Genera. Then reality snapped back to him. He advanced with new vigour to the front to get Rossmend to explain the full situation to him, but hoping it wasn’t the situations he had in mind.
  The heavy mass clung harder as Icalave reached Rossmend.
  “What’s the full explanation of this?” Icalave panted between breathes.
  “Well if this brat and the other Wolve have told me the truth, we should be running for our lives from two Death Wolves.” Rossmend said in a high exaggerated voice, also panting it between breaths. Icalave could tell that the exaggeration and untrustworthiness were aimed at the small shivering lump on his back. It also gave Icalave the shivers. There had never been a known account of a Wolve to escape the fate of a Death Wolve.
  “Was this to be expected of?” Rossmend threw at him. The question embarrassed Icalave a little. “Was running for our god forsaken lives one of your thoughts that we might encounter?”
  “I must admit,” replied Icalave with a stern voice, “it was. But I hadn’t expected it to happen so early.”
  “Oh,” back chatted Rossmend sarcastically, “well that’s alright then!” Icalave could tell he was rolling his eyes, in all the situations in the Wolvian land.
  “They’re gaining on us!” Shouted a small quivering voice from Icalave’s back. He chanced a glance back over his shoulder, but could see no others apart from Arssneq and Genera.
  “How far back are they?” Icalave called up to Budney.
  “About 100 yards!”  Came a voice in reply.
  “How can he see that far back? Not even my eyes will allow me to look that far in the dark!” Called another voice from Arssneq’s direction.
  “I have a gift for the dark,” was all that answered.
  The pounding on the ground of all their feet became the dominant sound for a while, growing more louder as the silence drew on around them. They kept running, never daring to slow down, fearing of what could happen to them if they did. Icalave’s ears rummaged the air in front of him, searching for any signs of approaching sounds. There were none, apart from the blissful and out of place relaxing sound of the river, which had now become on the lower side of a cliff. They had run up into the mainland, not daring any chances of becoming cornered if possible. Icalave had taken lead of where they were going. The hills steadily lowered before the last of the four in the east started rising. He took them up the last of the easy hills, before coming to a complete stop on top.
  The land to the south of him was covered in a veil of darkness. Few spots of light could be seen in the near distance. Icalave guessed it was from a minor Mann settlement called Etmurg.
  “Can you see the Wolves now?” Icalave asked Budney, a little to hesitantly, as he descended from his back.
  “No. It’s just like they have disappeared or something. But I know they were there no just a minute ago! I swear on my life that I didn’t make them up! Genera saw them too!” Budney quickly added on, hoping that Icalave would believe him.
  Suddenly, as if someone had just shouted out their name, two long howls rained out across the land from the near west. It was a horrible sound. It wasn’t like a regular howl. These were full of anger, the smooth tone had been flattened out with a nasty hissing snarl noise that could send shivers of fear down any creatures back. It resonated through the low rocks and echoed through the featureless air. Icalave felt the hairs of his fur stand on end on his neck, and the black abyss of Budney had once again clung itself to him. It was Rossmend who was first to speak.
  “I will lead them off.” Icalave looked round at him, his eyes proud, but full of rage.
  “You will NOT!” Icalave boomed at him.
  “It’s either one down or all down Icalave! We can’t risk us all being killed.” Icalave could hear the fear in his well conjured up bold voice, but wasn’t fooled by it. “I’ll lead them into Silvetatrape and head for Trevlenn.”
  “That’s a four day run!” Argued Icalave.
  “Let me go then.” Arssneq proudly took up the challenge.
  “And what will you do if they catch you? You have no strength to withstand such creatures!” Snapped back Rossmend.
  “I am the faster of you all, am I not? What chance do you think they will have of even catching me?” Fired back Arssneq.
  “If they don’t stay right behind on your trail, they will lose interest. And I don’t think you have the will to do such a thing, Arssneq!” Rossmend pronounced the name as if it was some disgusting thing he just found.
  Budney had started whimpering from all the commotion and the fear that had caused all the anger in everyone. Genera remained silent, petrified that if she said something someone would come down on her and tear her head off. Although she’d rather that than be slaughtered by a Death Wolve.
  “I DO have the will power, Rossmend! And what would YOU do if you had the pleasure of being in reach of their fowl mouths?” Arssneq’s back became more ridged as if he was about to pounce.
  “NO ONE is LEAVING!” Boomed Icalave.
  “I’m gone!” Announced Rossmend, “and will SOMEONE shut up that little BRAT!?” He was gone before Icalave could pull him back. Budney was now in tears, small sounds of whimpers escaped from his trembling mouth.
  “Rossmend! ROSSMEND!” Burst out Icalave, he could feel the tear in his heart ripping for a long and now hopelessly lost brother. He clenched his jaw hard as Arssneq came over to him.
  “I would’ve gone.” Stated Arssneq, “He knows full well that I had a better chance of survival.”
  “I know,” murmured Icalave, “I would’ve taken more pride in knowing that you had gone.” Arssneq lifted his head proudly at Icalave’s remark, whilst Budney continued to sob uncontrollably.
  A long Howl erected from the distance Rossmend had left in. All four remaining recognised it as his, as two of the ghastly howls called in a greedy reply. They heard a loud splash come from the river, as they heard Rossmend trying to make as much sound as possible to draw attention to himself and away from the others. The Belltrude was a lot shallower than the Shamrok as Icalave knew, as they all heard another two splashes of entering Wolves into the river. Another long howl from Rossmend erupted in the night air, as they saw a small white figure now racing across Shepfers Meadow and heading towards Silvetatrape Forrest. The grass was tall and Budney relayed how far behind the two figures were from Rossmend. He estimated 10 yards at the most. To far ahead for the Death Wolves to reach Rossmend, but not far enough to give up pursuit.
  They all watched until even Budney’s eyes could no longer see. But remained as they listened to the more desperate howling calls being erupted from the lungs of Rossmend, until they could no longer here them.
  Darkness swept around them. The clouds had entirely covered the sky and the little light that fed from the stars was also lost. It was indeed a dark hour.