Running Red

Chapter 15 - The Command to Breathe

Normally I feel guilty about giving you guys too long of chapters, but this one just felt right. I actually really like this chapter. I think I answered some questions that had been left unanswered for too long. I dunno. Maybe it's boring. We'll see. The picture is of a character (as a wolf obviously) in the story that I'll leave up to you to figure out on your own. The eyes aren't quite right, but you'll have to use at least some of your imagination. ;)

As usual, enjoy, please watch for my typos, and fly on! - FlyOn97

Leof sat, feeling many things. Cold, hungry, weary, scared. . .his mind had not wholly removed itself from the forest where the wolf had attacked Frore and Lady Corblin. In his mind he saw the man changing, his body contorting, the crack of Frore’s staff on the wolf’s jaw, and the eyes. The eyes that were actually two pair of eyes, one layering the other.

They had entered into a massive domed tent. It was almost entirely empty inside with the exception of a small smoldering campfire in the center. A hole at the top let the smoke out. Cynd had some men retrieve some dry wood and, after a bit of coaxing, Cynd had a bit of a fire burning. Leof got as close as he dared, very cold from tumbling in the snow and running in the wind.

Cynd did not speak while his guests warmed. Leof closed his eyes, shivered, and half-dozed. He opened his eyes when a blanket was draped around his shoulders.

“Looks as if you might have a touch of the chill, young one,” Cynd said, standing over him. “Why, look at those lips. Blue, I would say.”

Leof cracked half a smile. “I am just cold, is all. I will warm up in a minute.”

“I daresay you will,” he said. “I will not be having a sick boy in my camp.” He sat back down and used a half charred stick to prod at the fire.

“Thank you, Leof,” Lady Corblin said a few feet away. She had a blanket of her own. “You may have saved Frore’s life by what you did.”

“Hardly saved,” Leof mumbled. “His life is as good as over.”

The Lady looked sad. “Leof-“

“I see this one knows little of us and our ways,” Cynd said, his voice amused, not disapproving.

“He is still learning,” Lady Corblin said. “He has been through a lot the last few days.”

“’Course he has. Speaking of which,” he tossed the stick into the center of the flames and brushed his hands off. “Let us hear the full story of the wolf in the forest.”

Lady Corblin gave him a brief recounting of the wolf and the attack.

“You said that you saw that he was lost,” Cynd said it in a prompting voice.

“Yes,” the Lady said. “You could see it in his eyes.”

“You speak as though he was articulate, though,” Cynd said, musing.

“Very. He spoke clearly and well.”

“An old wolf then,” Cynd said. “Strange to come across one who has bothered to learn speech. That is dangerous, indeed.” He looked to think for a moment. “And the city?”

Lady Corblin’s face fell. “Bad. Worse than I have ever seen it. More wolves come every night. Most of them are moonsick. They demolish buildings. Most of the livestock is dead or eaten. They pound on the Service mercilessly. Some are so crazed that they eat one another.”

Cynd looked pained, his eyebrows meeting in a sad frown. “And the people?”

“The survivors are not much better off. They fight. They steal. So many of them had loved ones who were lost on the first day.” She sounded weary and sad. “We cannot go on like this. There is talk of seeking refuge in Tre’bon, but we both know the truth of that.”