Traveling at night was dangerous enough, but it had become near impossible with the Fayth active in the area. The closer Erys got to the temple she had been told to find, the more Fayth patrols she saw. Many of them were active at night thinking that is when most of the Lupo would be active as wolves. Fortunately for her they were wrong. As dusk began to turn to night, Erys shifted, finding cover as not to be seen by any patrols. Standing proud, the woman ventured into wolfwood as the moon shone bright, sprinkling its light through the trees.
Her vision would have been better as a wolf, but Erys could not run the risk. It was hard enough knowing how close she was getting to the temple, but it would be better for her to be caught as a human. The Fayth would not be able to discern whether she was Lupo or not. There were rumors the Fayth had begun to employ Lupo traitors as trackers. She hoped that was not true, especially with the scent she could smell on the wind.
Erys was not alone.
Soft and quiet steps moved toward the source of the scent she had picked up. The woman was careful to be silent as she closed the distance between herself and the Lupo she knew was near. Her scent would have already given her away. She needed to be ready in case the other Lupo was hostile. To that end, her hand held the grip of the dagger on the small of her back firmly. Erys was ready to strike at a moment’s notice.
Her eyes landed on a blonde woman. Her skin was tanned, showing her to be a woman of the woods. There were no imperfections as far as Erys could discern which made her jealous to a small degree. The blonde she-wolf had a softness to her that made her seem that she came from a more noble position, or a religious one. Yet, the brunette saw something else, it was in her eyes, a fierceness which boasted that the blonde woman was not a tame wolf.
For some reason, Erys felt that she could trust her. She loosened the grip on her dagger and stepped into view.
“I was wondering when you were going to say hello.”
“I needed to be sure it was safe. There are those of our kind helping the Fayth. You cannot blame me for being cautious.”
The blonde shook her head.
“Erys Skogsburn.”
“Freya Drage.”
Vivid blue eyes widened at the name. Erys knew it. This was the woman who had done so much to help their kind. News of her had traveled throughout Islimore. If there was any wolf the Fayth would love to see put to death, Freya Drage was at the top of their list. Her benevolence was as legendary as her fierce nature. The only living Khun had tried to make her his mate. While Erys did not know what made her angry, Freya responded by carving the symbol of shame into the man.
Erys smirked.
“How satisfying was it to carve that symbol? Your exploits are known in the distant woods of my people.”
Freya laughed slightly as she shook her head.
“Please. There are others who the other packs should be discussing.”
“Like Gerwald Lechner?”
Freya’s smile turned and faded slightly. She was curious. Gerwald had been difficult for her to find. How was it a stranger knew his name? There was a desire to ask the question, but Freya was wise enough to know that silence would produce the answer. Should the other packs be talking about Gerwald Lechner? Some of them were. He was the heretic, the kættersk. His outspoken resistance to the old ways and beliefs of their kind had spread throughout the camps. Some believed he would divide them all, and others felt he was destined to be their next leader. There were those who wanted him dead, and were determined to see him as such. Freya knew they needed him. Of those she had sought to bring to Islimore, he was the only who remained that was experienced in war. Their armies would need a general, and Gerwald Lechner was the only choice.
If only he would see it.
“I need to find him. He is our Alpha.”
Her vision would have been better as a wolf, but Erys could not run the risk. It was hard enough knowing how close she was getting to the temple, but it would be better for her to be caught as a human. The Fayth would not be able to discern whether she was Lupo or not. There were rumors the Fayth had begun to employ Lupo traitors as trackers. She hoped that was not true, especially with the scent she could smell on the wind.
Erys was not alone.
Soft and quiet steps moved toward the source of the scent she had picked up. The woman was careful to be silent as she closed the distance between herself and the Lupo she knew was near. Her scent would have already given her away. She needed to be ready in case the other Lupo was hostile. To that end, her hand held the grip of the dagger on the small of her back firmly. Erys was ready to strike at a moment’s notice.
Her eyes landed on a blonde woman. Her skin was tanned, showing her to be a woman of the woods. There were no imperfections as far as Erys could discern which made her jealous to a small degree. The blonde she-wolf had a softness to her that made her seem that she came from a more noble position, or a religious one. Yet, the brunette saw something else, it was in her eyes, a fierceness which boasted that the blonde woman was not a tame wolf.
For some reason, Erys felt that she could trust her. She loosened the grip on her dagger and stepped into view.
“I was wondering when you were going to say hello.”
“I needed to be sure it was safe. There are those of our kind helping the Fayth. You cannot blame me for being cautious.”
The blonde shook her head.
“Erys Skogsburn.”
“Freya Drage.”
Vivid blue eyes widened at the name. Erys knew it. This was the woman who had done so much to help their kind. News of her had traveled throughout Islimore. If there was any wolf the Fayth would love to see put to death, Freya Drage was at the top of their list. Her benevolence was as legendary as her fierce nature. The only living Khun had tried to make her his mate. While Erys did not know what made her angry, Freya responded by carving the symbol of shame into the man.
Erys smirked.
“How satisfying was it to carve that symbol? Your exploits are known in the distant woods of my people.”
Freya laughed slightly as she shook her head.
“Please. There are others who the other packs should be discussing.”
“Like Gerwald Lechner?”
Freya’s smile turned and faded slightly. She was curious. Gerwald had been difficult for her to find. How was it a stranger knew his name? There was a desire to ask the question, but Freya was wise enough to know that silence would produce the answer. Should the other packs be talking about Gerwald Lechner? Some of them were. He was the heretic, the kættersk. His outspoken resistance to the old ways and beliefs of their kind had spread throughout the camps. Some believed he would divide them all, and others felt he was destined to be their next leader. There were those who wanted him dead, and were determined to see him as such. Freya knew they needed him. Of those she had sought to bring to Islimore, he was the only who remained that was experienced in war. Their armies would need a general, and Gerwald Lechner was the only choice.
If only he would see it.
“I need to find him. He is our Alpha.”
Freya Drage NPC's with permission
