Rhistmaege

Gussie

Dovi fled the after-dark gloom. Odd sounds echoed through the blackness. Something foul was afoot. He pressed the balls of his feet deeper into the rutty road. Better than the bog.

He scanned ahead, searching the seas of thrashing willowtufts that lined the road. Solitary slattenoaks rose here and there, swaying in the whipping wind at the edge of the meadow. Shadows writhed around thick trunks as moonbeams slipped in and out of passing clouds. A bolt of lightning arced across the sky, illuminating three figures in the distance.

Dovi strained to see. Something was there. I swear it. 

Winds died down to a wispy touch. An eerie stillness flooded the fields, just as a chorus of yelping cries broke through the night. Wolves! Don't panic. They'll run you down if you lose it.

Throaty growls frothed atop a splashing, rumbling charge. The three beasts closed quickly, and were nearly upon him.

Dovi ran, slipping wildly back down the path. It's too far. You'll never make it.

He cursed as he reached a tree; no limbs within his reach.

Hungry eyes bore into him. One beast of bristling black and two of gray paced before him. Spittle hung thick from gray gums bared beneath snapping, snarling jaws. The Venom Lore.....bah, you've no skill with that.

He glanced at the tree once more. Not unless you sprout wings. He barely noticed the steaming piss running down his leg. Great way to end your miserable existence.

The wolves' golden eyes flared upon low foreheads. Bone-white teeth gleamed in a passing moonbeam as the three inched closer. He backed against the oak.

"Statistically speaking, the probability of being healed three times in one day, is pretty much an impossibility. Like way off the charts. So, do try to keep all your body parts in prrrrrfect working order," called a feminine voice from higher up in the tree.

A black cat arched its back and sauntered out upon a limb.

"Gussie? Is that you?" asked Dovi.

A passing shadow landed without a sound at Dovi's feet. He shook his head. A sharp featured woman with long, black hair stood before him. She smiled at Dovi, then turned to face the wolves who paced about nervously.

"W-Who? W-What are?" Dovi stammered.

The woman's hands began to gesticulate, working intricate patterns in the air. A pulsing bluish glow emanated from both of her palms.

The wolves turned tail, and began to scatter.

"Belucanum Sweorbag," called the dark haired woman, splintering the air with her voice.

Three pulsing blue collars exploded from fanned out hands and closed upon thick, muscular necks.

"Unhelian." She pointed blue-tipped fingers at the three wolves writhing to be free of their bindings.

The wolves howled madly as fur covered bodies began to transform. Long snouts shrank in on themselves, morphing to human facial features. Arms and legs cracked and stretched. Lupine appendages turned to bony arms and fleshy legs.

To Dovi's amazement, there, lying naked in the mud, were Lebonicus, Vis and Stigion. Each held a hand over their privates and pleaded to let them be.

"Please - don't - hurt us. We didn't mean no harm. Was just a prank. Only meant to scare him. Honest!" said Stigion in a shrill panicked voice.

Lebonicus held steady; his eyes were sharp and his hands did not shake.

"Quite the imaginative, elaborate plan for the likes of you dimwitted swine. What did you use? Wit? Folly? Or were you foolish enough to dip into Venom? Where did you get it? It'd take more gold crowns than your families could wage in a year. Thieves? Must be. Only one thing I hate more than thieves. I utterly despise bullies. Degenerate filth preying on good, honest folk makes my blood boil over." Full red lips disappeared into a straight, narrow line. Dark eyes flared.