The Foretelling - Chapter Two

Chapter Two: Stranger

“Fawn! Fawn, come here! Look at
this one!”
Spotted
Fawn’s claws clicked against the stone floor of the cave as she bounded towards
her sister’s voice. The only light at the back of the den was a pale slant of
moonshine, but Fawn was accustomed to the dark. The white spots that dappled
her honey-brown pelt glowed in the silver light.
“What
is it, Little Fern?”
“Have
you seen these before? They’re really cool!” Little Fern’s eyes glowed with
excitement. Fern’s gray pelt was easy to find, even in the dark. Spotted Fawn
settled down beside her and squinted critically at the cave wall. Etched in its surface were long, curved claw
marks that rose and fell like waves.
“No,”
Spotted Fawn barked thoughtfully. “I haven’t seen these before.”
Spotted
Fawn and Little Fern were not yet old enough to leave their mother, but they
had lived in their fair share of dens. They never stayed in any place for long,
nor did they travel very far; thus was the way of the Wanderers.
Their
current den was loved by both of the sisters. They had spent three nights in
the Cave of the Scarred Walls. Weeping Willow reminded them they would leave
the cave behind very soon, but the young pups implored their mother to let them
stay longer than she usually permitted. Grudgingly, Weeping Willow allowed her
daughters two more nights in their beloved cavern. The girls spent every waking
moment gazing at the markings on the walls in awe and pondering the stories
behind them.
“What
happened, do you think?” Spotted Fawn wondered.
“A
mighty flood,” Little Fern whispered gravely. “The great Mirror Sea rose to the
top of the cliffs and leaked across all the land. Many were afraid, but when
the water receded, the earth was fresh and beautiful.”
Spotted
Fawn giggled. “What about this one, Little Fern? It looks sort of like a tree.”
Little
Fern smiled knowingly. “When the wolves all howled and complained that the
world was flooding, the trees woke up and spoke to them in great, rumbling
voices. ‘You curse the forests for wanting a bath? Next time you want a good
cleaning, you shall have fleas in your pelt, you mangy mutt!’”
Spotted
Fawn snickered. “And so the wolves who trace their blood back to the one who
complained so loudly are cursed eternally with flea-ridden pelts!”
Little
Fern grinned and nodded. “That’s exactly what happened.”
Spotted
Fawn smiled sadly. “It’s a great story, Little Fern, but I’ll be you half my
tail that whoever made these marks was just plain bored and started raking
their claws across the walls.”
Little
Fern snorted in disbelief. “Yeah, right. Why do you think Mom tells us bed time
stories every night, Little Fern?”
Fawn
shrugged. “To entertain, or to give us fuel for when we play pretend, or
because there’s some lesson in them we can use for real life.”
Little
Fern batted her ears playfully. “No, silly moose! She’s telling us stories so
we remember and we tell them again. She tells us stories because they’re true!”
Spotted
Fawn sighed softly. Keep telling yourself that, Little Fern.
Fern
continued to scale the walls, searching for markings they hadn’t yet
discovered. Fawn rolled on her back and stretched her legs out in front of her.
Despite her enchantment with the Cave of the Scarred Walls, Spotted Fawn’s paws
itched to wander in the woods. She rolled back onto her paws and nudged at her
sister’s side. “Let’s go on an adventure!”
Littled
Fern frowned and studied her warily. “What kind of adventure? Mom’s out
hunting, Spotted Fawn. We should really just stay in the cave like she wanted
us to.”
Spotted
Fawn rolled her eyes and sniffed indifferently. “Well, if you want to
stay here, that’s fine. I’m going exploring!” Spotted Fawn spun on her
heels and padded towards the mouth of the den with her chin held high.
“Fawn!”
Little Fern hissed in exasperation. “At least tell me where you’re going!”
Spotted
Fawn frowned and paused. “Where’s a place we haven’t been before?” She murmured
thoughtfully.
Little
Fern stepped hastily in front of her. “Well, if we have to go somewhere, why
not the moose bothers, or the stream? Mom said that was okay so long as we stay
hidden from other wolves!”
Spotted
Fawn shook her head. “Nah, there’s only so many times you can prod a moose
before they get mean. And the stream is barely even there anymore; the sun
dried it all up. No, I want to go somewhere better. Somewhere…exciting.”
Little
Fern groaned with dread as Spotted Fawn’s eyes suddenly lit. “Please tell me
you’re not trying to go to the moon or something.”
“No,”
Fawn smirked mischievously, “not this time. We’re going to the Fenrit Falls!”
Little
Fern let out a shrill squeak of protest. Spotted Fawn darted from the cave and
took off into the forest as a brisk run.
“Fawn!
Fawn, wait! Don’t go out there!” Spotted Fawn ignored her sister’s howls and pressed
on. She loped along until Fern’s cries had faded altogether, and the spindly
trees began to look like strangers. Fawn slowed to a stop and gazed warily up
at the fir trees. Maybe I should’ve
waited for Little Fern.
Leaves
crunched behind her. Fawn whirled about, fur fluffed with fear.
“W-Who’s
there – OOF!”
Little
Fern erupted from the undergrowth and pounced on Fawn with a vengeance. Spotted
Fawn winced as she crashed to the ground, winded.
“That’s
what you get for running off on me!” Little Fern hissed. “We’re turning around
right now and getting back to the den before Mom notices!”
Spotted
Fawn rolled her eyes in annoyance and shoved Fern of her. Rising to shake the
dirt from her pelt, she glared back at her sister. “No way, Little Fern. We’ve
already left the den; we might as well go the rest of the way.”
“I
don’t want any part of it!” Little Fern growled. “Last time you got us into
trouble, Mom made sure we barely strayed a rock’s throw in front of the den for
a whole week!”
“Fine
then,” Spotted Fawn shrugged, “don’t have any part of it. Turn your little tail
right around and head back home. I
want to see the falls.”
Spotted
Fawn cocked her head, a victorious grin spreading across her maw as the roar of
the waterfall greeted her ears.
Without
a second glance at her sister, Fawn started off at a steady jog in the
direction of the falls. Little Fern cursed under her breath and reluctantly
followed, tail drooping as she went.
Gradually,
the tall fir trees began to thin. Spotted Fawn’s steps slowed as her eyes
rested on the shimmering surface of the Fenrit River. She trailed its swift
current to the edge of the cliffs, where it fanned out as far as she could see.
Little Fern fell abruptly silent as she joined her sister. Speechless, the
girls peered over the edge of the cliff. In daytime, the Mirror Sea was a
beautiful robin’s egg blue. Under the light of the moon, the water was
quicksilver. The Fenrit Falls gushed over the rocks in a constant, guttural
roar.
“Wow,” The she-wolves breathed in unison.
“Do
you think we can get closer?” Spotted Fawn whispered as she edged along the dangerous
ridge. “I wonder if there are caves in the cliff side!”
Little
Fern glared back at her reproachfully. “Spotted Fawn, don’t you dare try and
climb down those rocks! You’ll get yourself killed for sure!”
“I’ll
be fine!” Fawn snorted indignantly. “Have a little faith, won’t you?”
Little
Fern stepped in front of her as Fawn stepped back from the ledge. “Since when
have you cared about faith, Fawn? I have faith in the fact that you’ll have an
early trip to Valhalla if you try and climb those cliffs!”
Spotted
Fawn ogled at her as if she’d sprouted a second head. “Little Fern,” she
murmured slowly, “they’re just stories.”
Little
Fern’s dejected gaze dropped to her paws. For a moment, Fawn felt a twinge of
regret for her harsh words.
“Is Dad just a
story, too, Spotted Fawn?”
Spotted Fawn’s
eyes narrowed to slits. She whipped around and stormed towards the cliffs.
“Fawn,
wait! I didn’t mean it!”
“Yes,
you did!” Fawn snapped. “You can’t just take that back! You believe in your
stupid Fenrir stories more than you believe in Dad!”
Fawn
gasped as she heard a dark chuckle beneath her paws. Dark, glowing eyes blinked
up at Fawn as she peeked over the rim of the rock. Perched precariously on a
ledge just under her was a tall, black he-wolf.
“You
can’t persuade everyone, Spotted Fawn,” the black wolf barked wisely. “It would
be a waste of your breath to try. You just can’t reason with some wolves.”
Little
Fern’s pelt prickled with apprehension. “Fawn, we should go. Mom will want us
back soon. You know what she said about talking to strangers.”
The
dark wolf chuckled again. “Well, then, let’s change that, wouldn’t want the two
of you getting into trouble over me. The name’s Romulus.” Romulus leaped
expertly amongst the rocks and heaved himself onto sturdy land. Apprehensive
yet awed, Fawn backed slightly away from Romulus as he straightened and offered
her a kind smile. From head to toe, his long flowing pelt was soft black silk.
He was young and handsome, yet spoke as a wolf of wisdom.
“It’s
nice to meet you, Spotted Fawn and Little Fern.” He dipped his head and Fawn
bowed hers in return.
Little
Fern huddled behind Fawn. “Fawn, please, we should go!”
Fawn
sniffed with annoyance and smiled eagerly at the stranger. “Forgive me; my
sister’s behaving quite rude towards you.”
Romulus
laughed good-naturedly. “No worries, young one. It is as I was saying before;
there’s just no reasoning with some wolves. Some wolves refuse to see the truth
even when it is set right in front of them.”
Spotted
Fawn’s eyes widened. She nodded slowly with understanding. He’s right. Little Fern will probably always go on believing her silly
Fenrir stories no matter what. “I’m not like that thought,” she assured
him.
“Of
course not,” he agreed with a smile.
Spotted
Fawn pawed the ground, embarrassment flushing her cheeks. She wished he could
speak as he did, so smooth and crisp and certain. “But just so I don’t ever get
like that, what is the truth?”
Romulus
looked down on her fondly. “I don’t think you’re at risk, but if it’ll help,
I’ll let you in on the secret. The truth is literally all around us; the truth
of where things come from can be found in the way things are. When you pray to
the spirit of Fenrir, you will get nothing. When you earn something yourself,
you will be content. Our bodies fulfill all of our needs and desires; they
supply us with everything we need to be whole and happy. The truth, Spotted Fawn, is that we don’t
need to worship gods or spirits. We don’t need anyone but ourselves.”
Spotted
Fawn’s whiskers twitched skeptically. “What about family? Don’t we need them,
too?”
Romulus
looked away from her and gazed out into the distance, eyes glazed over with
memory. His smile deserted his face and left him looking solemn. “I don’t have
a family, and I’ve done all right.”
Spotted
Fawn frowned deeply. She felt a whimper building in her throat. “But…doesn’t
everybody have a family? Even if they don’t know where they are?
Pity
swam in Romulus’ gaze as he turned back to her. “What about you, Spotted Fawn?
You have your sister, of course, and a mother, perhaps. What of your father?
Why does your sister place more faith in stories of Fenrir than her own sire?
He isn’t here now and he certainly isn’t planning on coming home. Give it up,
Fawn, before it drives you mad with grief.”
Spotted
Fawn barely held back a cry of pain as her eyes began to water with anguish.
“You know nothing about my father! He’ll come back, you’ll see!” She whipped
around, snarling at Little Fern as she fled towards the trees. “You’ll both
see!”
“Really,
Spotted Fawn?” Romulus called after her. “Where’s Daddy right now? The sooner
you give it up, the better. I was just like you once, Fawn. I had absolutely no
one. I’m better off without them, stronger without them. They’re just like
extra legs that get in the way and keep your own limbs from growing strong; one
of these days, you will walk alone, and you won’t have anything to rely on but
the strength of your own paws.”
Spotted
Fawn stopped just before she reached the woods. She trembled with rage and
gritted her teeth as she bit back the urge to spin on her heels and spit in his
face.
“Are
you sure you’re not the type to ignore the truth when it’s right in front of
your face?” Tears rolled down Fawn’s cheeks as she took off into the forest.
Romulus’ words chased after her like a hungering predator.
Twigs
snapped and ferns crunched behind her; Little Fern was hot on her paws.
Panting, Little Fern sprinted ahead of her and blocked her path. Without
looking at her sister, Fawn slowed to a jog and moved past her.
“Fawn,
just wait up, please?” Little Fern begged. “I—”
“Don’t
ever say it, Little Fern,” Fawn fumed. “Don’t you dare say you told me so!”
“That’s
not what I was going to say!” Fern snapped back. “I was going to say I’m so, so
sorry for what I said to you, and that Romulus is just a creep trying to get
under your skin, and that you shouldn’t listen to a word he said. But you know
what, Spotted Fawn, you never listen to me anyway, so I won’t bother. And yes,
I told you so!”
Little
Fern stormed ahead, huffing as she whisked passed her sister. Fawn let her go
without protest. Anger boiled in her gut and she knew anything she said not
would only rub salt in an open wound. Her ears twitched in frustration as she
caught Fern muttering to herself.
“…could’ve
just said sorry…”
“Well
I’m not!” Fawn spat fiercely. She shook her head in exasperation. “I get it, I
messed up. You don’t have to rub my face in the mud!”
“Spotted
Fawn? Little Fern?”
Both
sisters froze as they hear their mother’s call. The bushes swayed to reveal a
billowy gray she-wolf. Her worried eyes settled on her daughters and became
suddenly reproachful. “Lucky for you, I haven’t been looking for long. Be
honest and I might just let you off easy.” Her cool, colorless eyes fixed on
Little Fern’s downcast expression. “Well, where did you get off to?”
“Just
to the stream,” Little Fern mumbled. “We were just on our way back.”
Weeping
Willow raised a skeptic brow, but said nothing more about the matter as she led
her daughters back to the Cave of the Scarred Walls.
“I
have a surprise for you,” she woofed. “Tomorrow night, you’ll be in for a
treat.”
Despite
the upset over Romulus, and her quarrel with Fern, Fawn couldn’t help but perk
up at the prospect of a surprise. Her imagination went wild with the
possibilities.
“Little
Fern,” she whispered in her sister’s ear, “what do you think? What if…what if
it’s what we’ve been waiting for?”
Slowly,
Fern shook her head, eyes grave. “Spotted Fawn, don’t let Romulus get to you.
Don’t let what he said eat away at you. You don’t have to prove anything to
anyone.”
“It’s
not about Romulus!” Spotted Fawn hissed. “Don’t you think—”
“No,
I don’t think Mom’s talking about Dad. I don’t think he’s coming home at all.
You know, sometimes, I wish he would come back, too. But most of the time, I
hope he stays well away. He abandoned us, Fawn. He’ll never love us how we
deserve.”
Spotted
Fawn gaped at her sister in astonishment. How
could she?
Even
as she stared and scrutinized, Fawn couldn’t make sense of the sudden burst of
resentment in Fern’s voice. By the sounds
of it…it’s as if she…
“I
hate him, Spotted Fawn,” Little snarled suddenly. “I really, really hate him.”