Chapter 80: A Wolf Meets the Beast of No Fear
(Night Time)
"AWWOOOOOOOOOO—OOOOOO...!"
"AWOOOO... AWOOOO...!"
"OOOOOOOHHHHH...!"
The unified, echoing howls of the silver-grey wolf pack shattered the nighttime stillness of the jungle.
Under the brilliant, silver glow of the perfect full moon, the clan had gathered for the lunar chorus.
Some stood tall on the flat roofs of their stone-and-earth dens, while others crowded the central clearing, their snouts pointed straight toward the starry heavens, pouring their grief, strength, and prayers into the night air.
Inside the dark den, Kael slowly pulled away from Nuan’s side. His ears twitched at the haunting harmony of his people.
Stepping out into the cool midnight air. He threw his head back, his broad chest expanding as a powerful, booming howl tore from his throat.
"Awooooo... Oooooo... Awoooooo...!"
The sheer force of his voice carried the heavy weight of an Alpha’s devotion and a desperate plea.
He kept howling for several long minutes, his ears straining against the heavy silence that followed, praying that the distant wind would carry his voice far beyond the jungle borders to wherever his mother was running.
.
.
.
.
Huff... huff... huff...
Miles away, beneath that exact same brilliant full moon, Selka staggered through a thick thicket, her breathing ragged. Her human form was battered, caked in dirt, and covered in fresh, purple bruises and shallow claw slashes.
Passing through the massive swarm of the Red Claw Pack had been a literal nightmare of evasion, forcing her to double back, run through thorns, and fight off a few overambitious scouts.
Collapsing onto her knees by the edge of a small, hidden stream, she spat a mouthful of dark blood into the dirt. She scooped the cool water into her trembling palms, drinking greedily to soothe her parched throat.
"Sigh... I am really getting too old for this," she murmured, wiping her mouth with the back of her bruised hand.
She looked up at the glowing full moon, catching the faint, ghostly echo of a wolf’s howl traveling over the canopy.
A weary, knowing chuckle escaped her lips. "Kael... your voice is strong." She shook her head. "But I don’t want to howl back and attract any more trouble to myself."
Resting for only a few minutes, she willed her body to shift, disappearing in a poof of grey smoke as her resilient wolf form took over.
She pushed forward, running hard through the remainder of the night.
By utilizing the deepest shadows, she successfully bypassed the territory of the Gray Langurs before dawn, avoiding a humiliating and exhausting conflict with hundreds of territorial monkeys who would have gladly rained heavy rocks and hard nuts down on her head from the high branches.
By the time the golden morning sun began to pierce through the thinning trees, Selka knew she was on the home stretch. Just one final woodland stood between her and the open, vast expanse of the Golden Grasslands.
But these specific woods held the most terrifying reputation in the entire region. It was the domain of the most fearless, aggressive, and psychopathic creature in the beastworld.
An animal so relentlessly stubborn that it would happily fight a pride of lions, leopards, or a pack of hyenas entirely on its own. A solitary, chaotic hunter that simply did not know the definition of the word ’quit.’
Selka’s throat went dry, and she visibly gulped. I absolutely do not want to get on their bad side...
Stepping carefully through the dry brush, her silver eyes scanned the ground. Her heart sank when she spotted the shredded, headless carcasses of several highly venomous snakes littered around the base of the trees.
Oh, oh... she thought, her tail tucking slightly. It seems I am directly in the center of their primary foraging range.
"HSSSS!!!"
A sharp, violent, rattling hiss exploded from a dense patch of dry scrub right in front of her.
Selka instantly locked her joints, freezing mid-step. Pushing through the leaves was a small, stocky figure with a thick, coarse coat of grey and black fur.
He barely reached one-third of her height, and weighing only a small fraction of what she did.
In a fair, normal fight, Selka had the jaw power to crush his spine—but the problem was, honey badgers possessed loose, thick skin that a wolf’s fangs could barely pierce, and they fought with a reckless fury that usually resulted in severe, infected wounds.
In her already exhausted and injured state, a prolonged fight with this pint-sized terror could permanently cripple her.
"Khrrr!" the honey badger snarled, his small, black eyes burning with instant fury.
He threw his front paws out, aggressively stomping the dirt as he began to screech and yell at the top of his lungs. "What the hell do you think you’re doing in my food range, you oversized dog?! Did you eat anything from here?! Did you touch my snakes?! Huh?! I’m not going to let you leave here alive! How dare you walk on my dirt!"
Selka let out a very quiet, internal sigh. They really are as completely insane as the legends say. Alright... time to flatter him before he decides to bite my kneecaps off.
With extreme care, Selka slowly took three respectful steps backward, lowering her head and flattening her ears to show absolute submission and zero hostile intent.
"Let me pass, oh powerful, fearless Honey Badger," Selka said, keeping her telepathic voice deeply respectful and smooth. "Please, allow an old, weary traveler to pass through your mighty domain... I am heading straight toward the open plains to save a life. I swear to you, I haven’t eaten a single bite from your food range, nor would I ever dare touch your hunt."
The honey badger stopped screeching for a fraction of a second. He stood on his hind legs, tilting his snout up as his narrow, dark eyes carefully inspected her battered condition, tracking the mud on her fur, the slashes on her shoulders, and her non-threatening posture.
Even the surrounding birds wisely remained silent, sensing the dangerous tension below them.