'Lycan in the storms'

~Chapter one~

{Chapter One}

It’s peaceful out here, in my tree, looking down at the earth below as I let my leg swing freely from the branch I had perched on. But as always the peacefulness is broken by the distant cries of the war, cannons blasting and horses galloping, the usual. I’ve been in The Squall for years since the begging, it’s a large stretch of land, further than the horizon, where once there was peace, tranquility, normality. Now all that has been torn to pieces, just like the treaty signed to declare peace between the lands. I fought in the wars, I was a good solider, always attended my duties, I never let down my corporal and once or twice I found myself saving others in risk of my own life. Yes, I was a good solider. But now war is just something I can shrug away and forget about, I do not serve in the war anymore, not after they chucked me out for being a ’reckless danger to all whom else live there’. I tried to explain to them I wasn’t going to hurt anyone, it was just a temporary adjustment until I was able to control myself, but obviously that took longer than I thought it would. You see, I am a Lycan, or in other words; “one who possess the power to transform into a wolf like beast whenever they please” that’s what the books say at least. I spent a couple of years studying my species, trying to learn how we worked, how we functioned, how we could cope if it ever need be. It turns out that there were many cases like mine, they are called ‘lacking’ the ones who find it hard to control the ability and want to transform, the ones who are most likely to be banish from everyone they know and shunned upon as an outcast to the rest of society, just like what happened to me.

I sit in my tree and I smile, I’m glad there is a war going on, let them battle it out like little babies, I’m happy that they find war so much fun. The sounds of  hooves galloping makes my ears twitch and I have to sit up to focus on what is going on. They must be retreating. I scamper higher into the tree in a desperate attempt to hide; a whole army is not what I want on my tail right now. I crouch in the very top of the tree and look down as lines of men on horse-back glide past in a steady stream of gleaming metal suits, dripping with fresh blood of their enemies. One of the soldiers in particular catches my eye, a young boy, probably one of many forced to fight when the army got cut short and had to employ one male of each family, just like back in my world, when the younger boys, the ones who were able to fight, put down their names and hoped and prayed that they got selected, just so their fathers wouldn't have to go into battle. The young boy had a cut across his brow and the blood was trickling down into his eye, making his blink more than usual. I could see the fear in his face; he wanted the war to end, so he could go home to his family and live the normal life. Nothing here in The Squall is normal anymore, not now with the wars and the fighting and the hate. For a moment, the boy looks up, right up to the top of the tree where I'm sitting. He stares at me, our eyes lock onto each other’s and then we are just staring at each other, locked in each other's eyes. I think he is going to shout, expose me to the rest of his team and then I'd have to run. The though boils in my guts and I feel like transforming to protect myself, but he just stares up, his mouth wide, his head tilted slightly. I think he was curious, questioning why a young man, dressed in rags, was crouching up in a tree, watching him. One of the officers came over to him and shook him violently, shouting something that I didn't understand into his earlobe, mostly likely he was speaking Nord, that is the most common language amongst these army men. The young soldier is distracted, so I take this chance to leap over to the opposite tree, landing on a branch just meters above the passing soldiers. I make sure I land swiftly so that I won’t cause a disturbance and possibly a whole army wanting my hide. A few more leaps into other trees and I'm disappearing into the dark, the glowing of a fire , most likely a camp set up by the army men, in the distance.

The smell of rainwater on the grass wakes me to the rising sun. I look over to check the camp; the fire is out, probably from the rain. I stretch out all my limbs and allow myself to go limp for a few seconds before I leap down to the ground, landing softly on my bare feet, cautious not to make any sound. I spit at the ground, getting rid of the horrible taste of the berries I had snacked on the night before. As if on cue my stomach rumbles, breakfast. All too suddenly my stomach matches my mind and I’m transforming, my bones cracking into shape, hair growing in large amount around my limbs, a large muzzle forming under my nose, breaking almost every bone in my skull as I transform into my wolf form, preparing myself for the morning hunt.  Once I’m fully transformed, I make my way into the trees, sniffing and searching, scouting the area for any signs of life, anything that would keep me full for an entire morning. As I search the area in the trees, the smell of burning cinders flickers in my nostrils and I suddenly realize that this is my perfect opportunity. I have set up a plan in a matter of seconds; I will creep in, snatch up the nearest man and stop his breathing before he can even wake up.  The hunger and excitement bundle up inside me and take control. I creep very steadily around the edge of the camp, making sure to keep in the trees, so if one was to wake up, I’d be able to hide.