The tunnel is shaped like a slide. A quick way to get around, nostalgic to my memory. How long has it been since I’ve been to a children’s playground, where I happily fell down a slide after hours of swinging? By the end of the tunnel, my mind felt distant, surrounded by shifting memories and keystone events. New sounds began to trickle in, and I cut myself off from the sea of the past, focused on the now rather than extreme youth.

  That happiness is no longer mine to have, I told myself with a grit of fangs. Move forward. You’re being counted on.

  A stream of water, the heartbeat of standing guard, and the stench of moss. The ground was crafted out of prized tile, but the walls were similar to those of caves.

  Was this place underground? A hidden dungeon, perhaps, or a palace to hide ‘treasure.’

  I am still buzzing with the need to be here; my ‘sheep’ should be around.

  I moved forward. Tile on feet is decidedly better than the idea of dirt and rocks poking into the fur of my foot.

  It is an accident to have walked in front of a guard.

  He visibly recoiled at the sight of my appearance. There is a sour stench in the air soon after, and I realized it’s the reek of ‘fear’ often rumored in fantasy books. Strange, I do not think even the queen of this kingdom feared me this much.

  “Who–What are you–!” The guard is young, and with a raise of my claws, he stumbled to lift his weapon in time.

  The spear snapped under my claws like a stick. The young guard is left staring, like he struggled to comprehend what occurred.

  I’ll admit, the easy breakage felt exhilarating, but I was here on a mission.

  “Where are they?” Simple, with my voice calm and to the point.

  “Wh–What?” The guard sputtered, still staring with hopelessness. He’s lifting his head, swallowing thickly, and his heartbeat velocity hasn’t diminished with all the racket. The guard pulled the broken sticks tighter against him, as if the weapon had been a gift.

  “Where are my chosen?” I feigned stepping closer to him, eyes alight with an iron stare. The target shuddered under my gaze, and I slowly began to raise a claw since the smell of terror had grown stronger.

  “Y-You mean the wolves?! Please don’t hurt me, I–I needed the money! My uncle got me this job!” The guard sputtered and wheezed, his fear stifling. “I-I’ll even give you the keys! How’s that? Don’t curse me, don’t kill me,” The young Dulling began to ramble; it felt like white static in my tuft-shaped ears.

  This felt redundant. I swiftly realized after this, I needed some kind of silence break. The world is still too loud despite all the endurance training I’ve undergone.

  I held out a claw, and seconds later, he dropped the entire key set in my wide mint fur-palm. The guard is quivering, but he gave instructions on which key is used for the upcoming ‘enclosure’ and the fact there were several exits in this underground maze. I hadn’t known this place was complex nor a trap; it was a valuable insight. A deciding factor in this game, perhaps.

  “You.” I flatly declared as I began to stroll past him.

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  “Y-Yes?” The guard yelped.

  “I hope you know, had I been someone else, you would’ve lost your head.” Most do not have the mercy to spare the bystanders, the people who are merely trying to make a living. “Your uncle clearly wants you dead and gone; guarding a place no one knows is a fast ticket to assassination by political parties.”

  A fantastic cover-up but who knows? Perhaps the uncle did have good intentions.

  I failed to see it. And how I despised young adults blindly trusting their blood relations to help them.

  Not when sabotage could easily be afoot.

  “Hrk…” The guard seemed to whimper, backing up against the wall.

  “Find yourself another job. You’re wasting yourself here in the dark.” With that, I rushed ahead, full-speed, leaving the guard behind. With this ‘old-age’ time period, I could only hope the youngster would pretend to have been completely outmatched. I knew not of the politics of this world, if people were executed for disobeying orders or perceived weakness.

  My own country had been a mess by the time I…Died. Would the situation ever become better?

  For my family’s sake. In a time of tragedy, they’ll need stability.

  My claws latched onto a thick black gate. It creaked with my induced shake, but does not move beyond the material grimacing. With a grumble, I whipped out the keys with practiced grace and flicked each metal piece to the needed opening. The door spilled open with a louder scrape against the tile floor. The sound of water splashed harder against my hearing. This was truly the place to keep living beings captive.

  Inside the gate was another garden, with a ceiling so high, there were deliberate cracks at the top. No sunlight spilled through; crystal lights glowed in the walls and floor of the environment for lighting. I stepped forward without thinking and grass tickled my feet. Within seconds, my stomach curdled, and cold gripped my brown skin. This time, goosebumps sprouted with a deceitful revenge.

  Even with the stones' glittering light, the world felt too dark. As if this garden could be the mockery of a forest. A dark forest with no one around.

  (“Why did we stop here, Dad? Have you been in this area before?”)

  I don’t want to be here.

  Alarm rang through my senses as I detected incoming steps, pawsteps. It hadn’t been ten seconds, but the brief pause was enough for a red blur to tackle into my side.

  Hot pain flared alongside a sharp lash, and I cried out. Heated red began to spill, and I glared at the wolf pup still biting hard on my arm. My cloak, now stained with growing sploshes of blood.

  I still bleed, A more dazed part of myself whispered. I’m alive. I’m alive. I’m–

  “Little Brat,” I sneered at this puppy, with the reddest fur I’ve ever seen. There’s a bright scarlet gem on their head. I have the urge to throw him far and fast, but I know better. “You dare bite your rescuer?” I moved to stare into this pup’s eyes, to see the darker red viciously trained on mine.

  There’s something murky here. Under the pain of being bitten and the sourness accompanied by it. The air felt heavy, and I realized the feeling of buzzing coincided with whatever else was trying to erupt. I moved a claw toward the pup’s gem, listening to the little thing growl. They sounded pathetic, and I suspected malnutrition.

  I moved a claw, providing the gem a tiny tap.

  The pup whimpered.

  A memory wrapped around my mind, sweeping me away, and right then, a vivid scene played out.

  This young wolf was born to a proud mother of four. However, they were all in captivity, and by the time the youngster could walk, the siblings were sold off, split by the poachers who wanted their share of the hard work. The mother had fought viciously each time one of her children were separated from her, and she succumbed to the constant beatings given because of it.

  This pup was alone. Had been alone for quite some time.

  They held a keen hatred of Dullings. A festering pit of emotion I could detect, even now, because it felt like thorns and poison. A drag of chicken wire and forever bleeding wounds.

  Yeah, I don’t like people either. I came out of the memory with a shudder from the chill, and cradled the pup into my arms. While the wolf held onto my skin like a chew toy, it was still the most warmth I’ve had in a long while. I lowered my face to the pup’s head, softly mimicking a whine, and the baby wolf stopped snarling. Almost as if they had also reminisced on the past, lost in the present.

  I think of Ivory and Ebony, and wondered if they realized I deliberately took on the hardest part of this entire quest.

  There was a shift of greenery, leaves, and stems moving. Shadows flooded around my form, and by the time I looked up, there were many more colorful wolves surrounding my pretzel-legged form. Their eyes were locked on the youngster in my arms, as well as my stained cloak.

  There weren't any sudden movements, an impasse. The garden is still, but so were the wolves, gems glittering on their fur and coats.

  Kazo was never that shiny.

  At least the baby wolf wasn’t completely alone as I originally assumed. Risk of having my throat bitten or not, loyalty is good to see, regardless if said loyalty wasn’t directed toward me.

  I’ll have to convince them, somehow. Language barrier or not, these wolves were now under my preservation.