Legends -- Diarmuid's Past | A fate/zero Diarmuid x Reader fanfiction

VI. Wolves

"We're . . . here." George murmured to you upon reaching a large clearing with the ransacked leftovers of a camping trip, Sam's precisely.

From the snuffed out campfire and half-burnt sticks and stones to the bags of spilt cocoa beans and sacks of food and weapons strewn across the clearing, it was difficult to tell whether wolves attacked or a tornado hit this place. You cringed, and took a few steps around, observing the scene.

You could tell that this wasn't any ordinary wolf attack, though. Even in this era, no wolf was that strong. That would be something that you would something you would have to analyze and research, but for now you just had to find Sam. Hopefully he was still alive.

As you walked around, feeling more and more depressed by the moment, you heard a low growling, almost like a purr, but audible to everyone in the clearing. George appeared frantic and Paul looked grim. You glanced around, as the purr started up again, and you tracked down the source of the sound.

It was coming from a thicket of bushes. You drew your weapon and advanced towards the sound, cautious but steady. Your legs trembled and your gait was stiff. Arrow aimed, you waited a few metres away from the bush, awaiting your terror.

After what felt like an eternity, another low growl omitted from the bushes' direction, more clear and audible than the last. Slowly, a wolf padded out from the leaves.

It had silvery-grey fur and bright yellow eyes that seemed to glow in the dark, Its feathery tail trailed on the ground, and it bared its sharp, glinting teeth.

It was bigger than the average wolf, and definitely looked stronger and much more robust than a wolf should be. You stepped back in shock.

Paul leaned over cautiously to whisper in your ear, "That's one of the wolves that probably attacked Sam's camp. They stick around for a couple of hours to claim it as their territory before leaving. George and I will search around for Sam, you take care of this fellow right here."

You had to be honest, reading about books where the main character fought valiantly and rescued the victim victoriously, was a lot easier than actually having to do it yourself. In all those books, they talked about terrifying creatures and bloody battles seemed intimidating, but in real life, even an ordinary wolf could scare you. Not that this wolf looked or seemed very ordinary.

You took a trembly step forward, thinking about a fact that you read somewhere, about how when facing a carnivore, it was best to appear unfazed and courageous. Then the beast would perhaps back off due to surprise that its prey was not intimidated by its prowess.

Well, guess that didn't work so well against a wolf.

The wolf took your step forward as a form of readying your attack, and did not hesitate to lunge at you ferociously.

Seriously, in fairytales, they talked about dragons with a hundred heads and giants hundreds of metres tall, but honestly, nothing was scaring you as much as a real-life, slightly larger-than-real-life wolf jumping over your head.

Instinctively you screamed and batted your hands at its matted fur and muscled flesh to somehow slam it away, simultaneously cursing Paul and George for leaving you alone with a wild beast that was snapping at your body.

You managed to veer its course off a little, pushing it in midair to the right, but it was only a matter of moments before it came at you again, its movements frantic and breaths heavy. However, this time you were ready.

Mustering every ounce of courage you had, you drew your bow and brandished the small, glinting, sharp blade at the tip of the bow at the wolf. It merely snarled and charged forward. Panicking, you tried to slam the blade into its body.