Wolves of the Wild (Book 2: Metch)

Chapter 2

Wind Season

Metch was awoken by a sudden cool breeze, and he lifted his head to see Moonech slip out of camp, along with a few other wolves. Razor had been unusually quiet, in fact, all last sun-up and moon-up Metch hadn't even felt Razor's presence.

I had felt so free...

Metch thought wistfully.

"Shut it."

Razor growled. Metch flicked his tail in annoyance. He had felt Razor back the second he had woken up. Metch stood and stretched, gazing at his sleeping sister longingly. Metch could hear Razor's promise echo in his ears.

Well, I'll make sure he doesn't. I'll fight him off for you Foloo.

Razor chuckled darkly.

"Oh don't worry about that now, she'll die, just not to your paws."

Metch felt his pelt spike up in worry, and she glanced around the Care Place.

What are you going to do Razorblood?

Metch snarled in his head.

"Nothing you need to worry about servant!"

Razor growled.

"This little hiccup in our plan will soon be dealt with."

Metch sighed, then licked Foloo between the ears.

Foloo quickly lifted her head at the touch, sniffing the air for a moment before looking at Metch.

"Good morning, Metch."

She barked. Her voice was so friendly, so innocent.

I wish I could tell her what was happening.

"Good morning, Foloo."

Metch replied, slight joy flowing under his fur after being able to have a normal conversation with his sister.

"Don't get used to it,"

Razor growled suddenly. Metch frequently forgot the black wolf could hear his thoughts.

"I'm just waiting for something."

Metch was about to ask what when Razor took control, forcing Metch to pad outside the Care Place and stand by the entrance. Metch had only been standing there for a moment before Foloo suddenly sped past him, hurtling quickly into the Tunnel, just a blur of white fur. Metch pricked his ears in surprise when Razor began growling menacingly in Metch's ear. Razorblood suddenly flashed out of Metch, appearing beside him. Metch pinned his ears back and gazed in horror as the black wolf flicked his tail and several wolves slunk out of the forest, their fur black and menacing like Razor's.

"Go slow down the Pures!"

Razor snapped at some of them, the wolves vanishing immediately.

"I want that pup's pelt at my paws!"

He howled, his red eyes blazing.

"Have the fire spread faster!"

Razor snapped at the remaining wolves, who also vanished, their pelts beginning to glow and change to a crimson and gold color. Razor then glared at Metch, a slight smile on his muzzle.

"Your sister and Pack won't last long in this fire, but don't worry, as long as I'm with you, the fire won't touch you."

Metch felt his heart drop as Moonech entered camp again, seeing Metch and telling him to stay there with a flick of her tail. Metch knew she was looking for Foloo, and that's when a thought occurred to him.

"Is that why Foloo left? You wanted her to die?"

Razor only smiled before flashing back into Metch.

Metch dangled from Moonech's mouth as the wolves crossed a river. According to Belike, they were heading to the pack on the other side, Willow Creek Pack. Razor hadn't made a noise since they left, but Metch could tell he was apprehensive, he had to force his fur to lie flat. It took longer than Metch would have liked to get to Willow Creek Pack territory, but soon they were in their Care Place.

"And what are your names?"
Metch sighed.
Again with the whole introducing thing? This must be the hundredth time!
Metch only half listened to the conversation, meeting Leaf, Jay, Fox, Moss, Holly, and finally, Branch. Moonech had mentioned Foloo's death in the fire and Metch flicked his ears back in worry. When the four other pups finally settled down for sleep, Metch was flicking his tail in annoyance, their chatter had annoyed him more than it probably should. Razor had finally left as well, promising a return soon. Metch sighed, calming his tail and easing his nerves.

It's okay, I get a few moments of peace.

Just then Razor returned.
"How are you Metch?"
His deadly voice echoed in Metch's ears.
"While you're in this disgraceful place, you should learn the territory. Soon it will be ours!"
It will never be ours!
Metch growled, internally glaring at Razor.

"You're right, it will all be mine!"
Razor gloated, clearly trying to get Metch more annoyed than he already was.

No, this will belong to no one but Willow Creek Pack!
Metch saw his mother cast him a sideways glance as he growled aloud. Moonech then put her head on her paws and seemed to have worry in her eyes as she fell asleep. Razor growled after a moment,
"Your wretched mother is onto you, you better be careful."
An idea occurred to Metch, but Razor denied it instantly.
"No! Remember I can take control of you anytime! Getting her suspicious won't help any wolf!"
Metch laid his head on his paws and dozed, awaiting Razor at the forest. When Metch felt the stiff cold of the forest, he opened his eyes to see the black wolf nose to nose with him. His blood-red eyes were glowing with fury, and they scathed Metch's existence.
"Sometimes young fool,"
Razor began in his low growl,
"I wish I were able to sink my teeth into your neck, but it would do nothing until the Razorblood Pack has enough power!"
Metch felt the fur on his shoulders raise, and the rage inside him grew.
"Really? You named the failure of your pack after yourself? That..."
Metch was stopped mid-snap by shadowy wolves that leaped out of the forest. Their piercing yellow eyes matched Metch's and sent a shiver down his spine. The wolves pinned Metch down, and Razorblood approached him slowly. His eyes spoke no emotion, just pure, cold, hatred. The air around the wolves seemed to send bolts of fiery fury. The tone of Razorblood scathed like death on Metch's soul.
"You make fun of none but yourself, for your stupidity and pride is what got you here. You belong to no pack but Razor Pack."
A light shone behind Metch, small at first, but it grew brighter and brighter until all were blinded. A white wolf erupted from the trees, his brown eyes staring at the wolves. The wolf looked at Metch and locked eyes with him. His pelt glowed like the moon, and Metch felt calm wash over him. Razor growled and snapped,

"Get him!"

Several shadowy wolves leaped toward the white wolf, and the light that came with the wolf was dimmed under the mass of bodies. Metch looked at Razor, whose eyes shone with fury. Suddenly he whipped around toward Metch.

"Attack him!"

Razor instructed, flicking his tail toward the glowing wolf who was winning the fight and throwing off the Darks. Metch looked at the what he assumed was a Pure, to Razor, then crouched with a growl.

"No."

Metch said, crawling toward Razor. Razor narrowed his eyes, and when Metch leaped toward his throat, Razorblood swatted him out of the air like a moth.

He pinned Metch down, clawing a gaping hole into Metch's side. Metch yelped and watched as a pool of black blood began to surround him. Pain was searing into his side, and he could barely hear Razor.

"Don't ever attack me again pup! I will put you in your place!"

And with that Metch was plunged into darkness.