Chapter 8: Wolves And Wings
Reea wore a bitter scowl as she walked. She hated how much slower they were on the way back. Not just because of the kits, but also because they decided to drag along an entire cage as well. They had stuffed the bundles of meat in there with their prisoner. She wanted to put the kits in there too just so they didn't have to wait for the damn turtle. But the birds threw a fit at the thought of it. They were okay with riding on top of the cage, but the turtle absolutely refused to be that high off the ground. Instead, all three of the kits rode on Wouf’s back. Which wouldn't have been so bad if that didn't leave Reea and Mauor to pull the cage.
Reea’s ears flicked with annoyance whenever the young ones said something louder than a whisper. Especially when they complained. “Are we there yet?” Droned the irritating tweety voice of one of the birds.
Wouf chuckled with good humor and then looked over his shoulder. “Not quite. But we will be soon enough. Why? Are you bored Joy?”
Reea preferred the scruffy blue birds back when they would just cry all day. But Wouf’s silly antics put a stop to that, and now they felt comfortable enough around him to do the typical things that children did. Like shout ear piercing gibberish, ask stupid questions, and imagine all sorts of nonsense. The baby bird, Joy apparently, flapped his wings restlessly and squawked. “Yes yes! I'm bored! I want to do something fun, Mr. Wouf.”
Wouf wiggled a little as he asked in a playful tone. “Well… Do you wanna move really fast?”
The two chicks giggled and immediately cheered an enthusiastic “Yes!” which drowned out the turtle boys timid little. “No.” Being a firm believer in the spirit of democracy, Wouf noted that two out of the three children had accepted his offer. So he dropped into a play bow and gave them a brief warning. “Alright! Hang on!” Before he took off running at full sprint. His tongue hanging out the side of his mouth in a way that made him look really goofy.
Reea watched him take off as the three younglings clung to his back and screamed in both fear and delight. She did not share their enthusiasm, but it was nice to have silence for a change. Reea would have liked to read more of her book, but that wasn't really feasible while moving. So she opted instead for idle conversation. “You know, I still can't believe he just ditched us like that.”
Mauor seemed confused as she looked between Reea and Wouf’s tail wagging in the distance. “I'm sure he is just playing around. We'll catch up with him eventually.”
“Not him.” The red wolf rolled her eyes and clarified. “I was talking about Hawl. I don't understand what got into him to make him abandon the pack like that. I mean, what's so important about one rat anyway?”
“This again?” The white wolf asked with a tired expression. “I agree with you. It was stupid and he was being short sighted. We all tried to tell him that, but it was his decision in the end. He must have felt it was important.” Mauor shrugged. “It's not the choice I would have made. But I'm sure he'll find whatever closure he is chasing. And in a few days after we get home, he'll be back with an extra bit of meat for his troubles.”
Reea sniffed hottily. “Yeah, unless he gets himself eaten by beasts along the way. Lone wolves can't survive as well without a pack.”
Mauor fell silent at that. Before mulling something over. She looked conflicted for a moment before asking. “What's the deal with the two of you anyway? I don't mean to pry, but I couldn't help but notice a weird… tension between the two of you.”
“Oh that's nothing.” Reea huffed. “Hawl's just a humorless prude who doesn't know how to handle the fact he has feelings for me.”
Mauor was taken aback. “No kidding? Really?” Then she paused to consider and frowned. “That's odd. I always got the impression he hated you for some reason.”
Reea rolled her eyes. “He resents that I make him feel things. You know how males are. He'd rather deny himself than admit that I have something he wants. It's a bit sad, but it does make it so fun to tease him.”
The other wolf needed a moment before she let herself be convinced. Then she chuckled. “I guess I can see that. Yeah. Do you like him back?”
Reea snorted. “I mean, he's not ugly. But courting him would be like courting a rock.”
“That's not exactly a no.” Mauor teased with a little shoulder nudge.
Reea laughed. “I'll put it this way. I'd give him a try. Out of pity more than anything, and to satisfy my own curiosity. But he's not the kind of wolf I could see myself settling down with.”
“Ouch, that's cold.” The white wolf winced before nodding. “But also fair. I'm guessing you've already told him that and he didn't take it very well?”
The red wolf shrugged. “Not in so many words. But yeah. He knows how it is.”
As they pulled the cage along, Reea thought about Hawl and suppressed a scowl. If that idiot got himself killed before she had a chance to seduce him. Then she would be severely peeved for weeks. Part of her wondered if he extended the hunt just so that he had an excuse to avoid her. She had been layering the charm on pretty fast and thick as of late, but it only made him mad at her. In her defense, she had tried the subtle approach before and it didn't work. Trying to pry sex out of Hawl was so frustrating. But in a fun way. Like trying to solve a difficult puzzle that she had been stuck on for months. She had enjoyed the chase, but sadly it looked like she was going to have to do something else to entertain herself on the way back.
Reea sighed. She really wished there was a way to read a book and walk at the same time. The stench of rabbits told her that it wouldn't be long before they arrived at Westberrow. She was looking forward to having something to do, but she wasn't looking forward to explaining to their contact where Hawl-
A wolf's howl caught Reea’s attention. Causing both she-wolves to stand up a little straighter with alarm. It was Wouf! But there was something odd about it. “Here… Here. Here. Here.”
“Hu?” Reea asked with a sour look of confusion. “Why did he signal his location four times in a row without moving or saying anything else?”
Mauor mirrored her uncertainty. “Why did he signal his location at all when we are still in clear line of sight of each other?”
The two she-wolves looked at each other. Then picked up the pace to catch up with him. As they got closer it became increasingly clear what he was doing.
Wouf smiled with a huge grin, his goofy expression counteracting the intimidation of sharp teeth. “Hey! That's pretty good Serenity! Better than your first attempt certainly. But you gotta hold the note steady or else it might be mistaken for another signal. You also have to be much louder. Like this!” A long note of music pierced the air making the other wolves itch to answer him. “Here.” The kits listened with wrapped attention. Before trying their best to copy and imitate the sound to the best of their ability. The little turtle boy, Parvus, gave up pretty quick. Like rabbits, turtles weren't known for having powerful voices. Instead he just listened and committed the sound to memory.
“Wouf? What are you doing?” Reea snapped.
The big wolf dropped into a play bow as he excitedly explained. “Teaching the kits howl!”
Reea’s face scrunched up with incredulity. “You don't teach howl. Howl isn't a learned language.”
Wouf raised a paw. “It's not a learned language for us. But they don't have those instincts. I thought it would be a fun way to share a bit of our culture.”
Reea rolled her eyes impatiently and groaned. “They don't need to learn our culture and they certainly don't need to know howl.”
Mauor looked further down the trail and noted. “We're nearly at the edge of the town now. Hey Wouf. Are you wanting to hang back again? If so, I can take the kits.”
Immediately, one of the scruffy little blue bird chicks began to panic. “No! Please don't leave Mr. Wouf!” Joy's sister Serenity nodded in agreement with her brother. “We don't want to be alone again.”
Wouf smiled so gently and leaned down to address his little friends on their level. “Awww. You won't be alone. You'll have Mauor and Reea with you. You think they're nice too right?”
Serenity did that thing kids did where they pretended to look away rather than answering a question. But Parvus spoke frankly and simply. “We still want you to come, Wouf. The others are scary.”
Wouf looked like he was about to protest but Reea just rolled her eyes and inserted herself into the conversation. “Just come with us this time Wouf. I don't want to be carrying anyone by the scruff today, and I certainly don't want to be the only one pulling this stupid cage. So screw the rabbits. If they are scared of you then that's their problem.”
“That's true.” Wouf hummed. Then he made an amused sound as he remembered something. “Oh wait! I'm not fasting anymore. I can just eat a big breakfast and everything will be fine. No tummy grumbles for me!”
“Hooray!” Joy and Serenity cheered. But Parvus looked worried all of a sudden. He swallowed hard and then retreated into his shell before sheepishly asking. “Mr. Wouf sir? Are we going to be your breakfast?”
“What!?” Wouf recoiled. He looked hurt and disturbed that the turtle would even think such a thing. “Of course I'm not going to eat you.” He explained in a small soft voice that was almost pleading in tone. “I would never do such a thing.”
Reea rolled her eyes. Wouf was not being insincere in his promise, but he ate bird and turtle meat all the time. It was a good thing that Hawl wasn't here actually. Because that misguided idiot might feel the need to point that out and ruin the moment for everyone.
Hawl was still shaken. Though his face and body language had returned to a perfectly placid state. He felt a bit silly, blocking the way of a good portion of the road. But he needed that time to collect his thoughts and calm down. Sierra was chatty as ever. Though she mostly talked with the passing locals, because she recognized that Hawl needed space to breathe. However, she stayed by his side. Lying in the mud with him, despite the discomfort of it clinging to her fur and belly.
Hawl listened to the wind howling, and watched the sky with trepidation. He felt the air warm up slowly as the wind gradually calmed. And eventually, rays of sunlight managed to break through the cloud cover. Returning even more warmth and light which was mostly stolen by the hungry tree leaves. “Okay.” Hawl took a deep breath. “I think it is safe to move now.”
Sierra followed his gaze up to the breaks in the clouds and smiled. “Nice! That didn't take as long as I thought.” Then she gave Hawl a hopeful look. “Do you still have the trail?”
Hawl sniffed and nodded. “Yeah. Let's go.”
The two animals both stood up and continued their quest. The mud soaked goat skipping along happily as she followed the equally dirty and exhausted looking wolf. They approached a building which Hawl hesitated outside of to sniff the handle of the door. It was just a standard lever at the bottom right corner, used to enable any animal of any size to open it with the step of a paw. Hawl looked up to regard the tall building and then opened the door to the rookery and sniffed the handle on the other side. His eyebrows rose and he turned to Sierra. “They took your friend here. I can smell three scent trails leading in. But…” His blank expression grew more serious and intense as he explained. “I don't smell them going back out. No one has even touched the exit side of the handle for days as far as I can tell.”
Sierra blinked five times in rapid succession as she processed the implications of that statement. “What? Then where did they go?” Her eyes went wide with a sudden mix of hope, concern, and confusion. “They're not still in the building are they?”
Hawl frowned as he confessed. “I don't know. The trail is still over half a day old. I can't imagine that they…” He trailed off and shook his head. “Come on. Let's keep following the trail until we actually lose it. They could have left by another way.”
“Like a secret passage?” Sierra asked hopefully. But Hawl was already muscling his way into the building. He looked around the sparse entrance. There was an empty desk on one side. But most of the room was dominated by the extraordinarily steep spiral staircase that led up.
Hawl sniffed for a second then glared up the stairs. “The trail goes up this way.” The gray wolf wasn't even going to try climbing up there. He didn't like stairs in general, but these steps were clearly designed by creatures who knew they would never need to actually use them. Each step was much too steep and far too narrow. Climbing them would almost be like performing one of those ladder climbing acts that were sometimes a part of the acrobatics shows of traveling fairs. Hawl would have to find some other way to-
There was a clomping of hooves echoing across empty stonework before Sierra noticed Hawl wasn't coming. She looked down at him in confusion, and he looked up at her in similar bafflement. The goat appeared to be defying gravity as she stood on the very edge of each step. Her cloven hooves somehow were able to support her entire body weight on just half an inch of space for each leg. “Are you coming?” She asked with the trepidation of a child not wanting to get lost on a market street all alone.
“No I…” Hawl blinked and mumbled under his breath. “I forget you come from the mountains.” Before flicking his head towards the empty desk. “I can't climb that. Let's just ring the bell first and see what happens.”
Sierra noticed the little silver bell sitting on top of the desk. “Oh. Alright.” Then she hopped down three overly steep steps at a time before walking up beside him.
Hawl's paws ached at the thought of jumping that far down that rapidly. But the goat seemed unbothered by the descent. As she returned to his side, Hawl sniffed the handle of the bell and noted that the male rabbit, Her’rin, had picked it up at some point. A loud dinging reverberated around the spacious room as Hawl picked up the bell with his paws and shook it vigorously. It didn't take long before scratching sounds could be heard up above. Talons tapping against wood, followed by a melodic voice. “Coming!”
There was a flutter of wings and then a head popped over the edge of the top of the stairwell. They had a curved black beak and a shiny coat of feathers in a vibrant multi colored pattern that clearly marked him as male. Like the rest of his kind, he had no front legs. Instead he had wings that he used to fly down to the lower level. Not even bothering with the poorly designed stairs meant for lesser ground bound animals. He took his spot behind the desk and cleared his throat before cheerfully breaking out into a practiced speech. “Heeeeello! Welcome to the Bogdoor rookery. My name is Sleepy, how may I help you today?”
“Hi Sleepy!” Sierra responded with a smile and a tail wag. She was always happy to meet new animals.
Hawl by contrast, looked downright sour as he skipped past all of the pleasantries and cut directly to what was important. “A pair of rabbits came through here earlier this morning. Where are they?”
Sleepy blinked. The smile in his eyes fading into confusion and uncertainty. “What? I… I'm sorry sir but we are a rookery. We're not in the business of sharing information about our customers. If there is a message or a package that you want sent-”
Hawl cut the bird off with clear annoyance. “The subjects in question are wanted criminals with an active predation notice on their hides.” With one front paw he gestured towards his uniform. “I am a hunter for the wolven empire. As per interspecies law, I am entitled to public and private records that can reasonably be presumed relevant to the hunt I am conducting. Which means that you have to cooperate with me, or face arbitration from the Grand Flock for interfering with wolf business.”
Sleepy frowned and seemed to wilt a bit listening to Hawl talk. “Okay okay. Snakes up above, I get it. No need to bring the Grand Flock into this.” The colorful bird smoothed his feathers and mentally prepared himself for an unpleasant conversation. “Yeah, they came through here. Strange pair. Had a rat with them who was all tied up in rope.”
Hawl's dull yellow eyes widened, then narrowed. He leaned in towards the bird and spoke with stern urgency. “Where are they now?”
Sleepy’s voice held its happy unbothered energy and tone, but his body language showed discomfort as he leaned back. “They bought our delivery services.” It wasn't a direct answer to the question.
Hawl could already tell he wasn't going to like where this was going. “What did they want you to deliver?”
The colorful bird just smiled as best he could. “Themselves. They sent themselves through the mail. Paid in full for express delivery to a city in the kingdom of antlers. And it was not cheap, let me tell you.”
“Snakes!” Hawl barked in frustration before turning on the bird. “Why didn't you try to stop them? Or at the very least refuse them service. Do you not care about the wellbeing of your fellow animals? Are you a part of their criminal network?”
Sleepy ducked his head down and raised his wing up defensively. “What? No! We’re just doing our jobs here. How were we supposed to know they were doing anything illegal?”
“I don't know. Perhaps, because they had a tied up rat with them?” Hawl sneered with incredulity and scathing sarcasm.
The colorful bird relaxed into a look of innocent confusion. “So? Plenty of animals enjoy being tied up and get a thrill out of being paraded around in public like that. We don't judge.”
Hawl made a strangled sound before blurting out. “You should! You should judge that. That's not normal!”
Sleepy rolled his eyes. “Never said that it was normal. But so what? Some animals like all sorts of things that others might consider strange. Regardless of species.” His expression turned mischievous and teasing. “Why, you wouldn't believe the number of wolves that I've delivered custom made leashes and collars to. You can shame and look down on them all you like, but love conquers all, and some of your folk absolutely love being treated like dogs.”
Hawl’s face rapidly shifted from pure disgust, to snarling rage, to seething resentment, to chillingly neutral, alarmingly fast. Then he spoke in a calm, measured voice that nevertheless had a dangerous edge to it. “The prevalence of degenerate behavior in wolves is irrelevant to my hunt. And you are wasting valuable time with slurs and banter. So unless you want to draw attention from the wolven empire, I suggest that you choose your words carefully from here on out.” Hawl straightened his back as he sat. Pulling back and theoretically giving Sleepy more space. Yet paradoxically, his huge canine figure seemed to loom even more now. “The location they mailed themselves to. Is it named Pree? Does the name, the Cousin’s Thank-You Note, mean anything to you?”
Sleepy’s smug smile faltered, and he ducked his head apologetically. Before the city name was mentioned, and he suddenly looked up with confusion. “I don't know anything about a thank you note. But how did you know they were headed for Pree?”
Sierra looked up at Hawl with concern. “Hawl?” She asked, her voice pleading and overly gentle. Barely louder than a whisper.
Hawl looked down at his companion for just the briefest of glances before he was back to staring at Sleepy. As if he was trying to pluck his feathers out with his eyes alone. “How long until they arrive at their destination?”
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The colorful bird lifted one clawed foot up to scratch his chin thoughtfully. “With that much weight and that many birds to keep coordinated? It could be about four days, or much longer if there are complications. Most of us aren't used to group projects like that. I know that at least three of the flyers they hired for the job have never flown a basket before. So that should slow them down a titch, I think.”
“Hawl.” Sierra repeated.
The wolf's irritated look of disdain melted away and was replaced by a look of pity and trepidation. He very slowly looked down at his traveling companion. She was looking to him for an answer. A clever hunter's trick that she could marvel at and call him a genius over. And yet, she was afraid because she could tell he didn't have one. Hawl winced. He hated to disappoint her. But… He had to be honest. “I'm sorry Sierra. But we've lost the trail, and our quarry has escaped well past our reach. This hunt is over. I have failed.”
The little goat took a step back. Her mouth agape with shock. “No.” She whispered in disbelief. Then she spoke up louder. “No! What about Madam Rosary? We can't just give up. There has to be a way. We know where they are going we- We can still follow them!” Sierra placed her front hooves on the counter and spoke urgently to the bird. “Sleepy! How much would it cost to mail us to Pree too?”
The colorful bird made a strangled noise. “Wh- The both of-” His feathers puffed out in a mesmerizing display before he shook himself off and recomposed himself. He tried to remain patient with her and hide his indignation as he explained. “No offense miss, but there isn't a basket in this whole city that could hold you. Let alone your canine friend here. And even if there was, we don't have even a tenth of the birds that would be necessary to fly it! And that is when we are fully staffed by the way. Right now the rookery is short, because most of our flyers were hired by the significantly smaller rabbits that you are chasing. And even if we did have all of the resources you need. There is no way you would be able to pay the cost of such a massive undertaking.”
“Oh…” Sierra looked crestfallen as the reality of the situation started to sink in. She nodded to the bird. “Well… Thanks anyway.” Then she turned to Hawl with a forced smile that looked like it was holding back a lot of unpleasant emotions. “Alright then. If air travel won't work, then I guess we'll just have to hoof it on the ground. Right?”
Hawl felt a heavy weight in his gut. Twisting his insides in ever more elaborate knots as the silence stretched far longer than any one of them was comfortable with. Eventually though, he did need to breathe. So as painful as it was, he used that held breath to answer her. “We can't… There are miles of treacherous swamps between us and our destination. Navigating through the bayou by paw is so much slower and more dangerous than you think. Trust me, I grew up around here. It's a web of muddy rivers that constantly shift from land to water. It will take us weeks to cross, while they-” He flicked his nose towards Sleepy to indicate what species he was talking about. “-can simply skip past all of that and fly straight through.”
He was worried Sierra's stubbornness would blind her. But there must have been some sense in that horned head of hers, because she sat down on the wooden floor and grumbled. “Drat. And I can't swim either. So I guess we really can't chase after them then. Hrmmm…”
Hawl sighed with a mix of relief and regret. “I'm sorry.” He repeated. “But your friend is gone. All we can do at this point is send a message to the lodge in Rufivil with everything we know. With luck, the hunters there will be able to find and rescue mis Rosary. Okay?”
“Rufivil? That's a long way away.” Sleepy said with a confused look of concern. “Why not send the message to the Headsmount Lodge in the kingdom of antlers itself?”
“We could.” Hawl admitted. “But I have reason to believe there is a criminal organization operating out of at least one rookery in the area. I can't speculate on how far their influence reaches, but if they have enough connections in the mail system, then the message we send might never reach the Headsmount Lodge.”
“So that's it then?” Sierra asked with righteous indignation. “We just hope that a distant hunter's lodge not only gets our message, but also decides it's worth sending a whole new group of wolves off to continue a hunt that started in Westberrow? Do you really think they would go for that?”
“It's a long shot.” Hawl admitted. “This will likely be a low priority case for most lodges due to the high risk and low possibility of reward. But it's our best choice right now. Because we are all out of options.”
Sierra was not happy. She had her eyes glued to the ground. Her yellow and red, rectangular pupils darting back and forth. Studying the old dried dirt hiding between the woodgrain, as if it might hold a secret answer for the whole situation. Hawl was starting to wonder if he should leave her when she suddenly looked up with renewed energy. “The sea!” She declared, before almost frantically explaining her thoughts. “What if instead of going north, we head west first! Then when we reach the coast we can hire a ship to sail us north for a while before heading east again, and boom! We're at the Gates of Dynasty.”
Hawl was taken aback. “That would still take weeks! At least two. Those rabbits would have plenty of time to sell your friend off before we even get there.”
Sierra smirked with blind confidence and delusional optimism. “But we would get there.” She pointed it out as if that changed everything. Then she saw the look on the wolf's face and she lost some of that energy. She sighed. “I'll understand if you still want to turn back. I've enjoyed your company, and I'm exceedingly grateful for all your help so far. Truly, I am.” The little goat stood a bit taller for a moment, as if to defy the world itself. “But I'm not going to rest until Madam Rosary is safe. I can't ask you to follow me. This isn't your fight after all, not really. It's mine. I am going to find my friend. Even if I have to do it myself. Even if her bones are stuffed in a box when I get there. Crumbs, especially if her bones are stuffed in a box when I get there. I won't abandon her. Not again.”
Hawl took a step back. The goat was not going to back down from her quest. Even though it was a fool's errand destined for disappointment and failure. If he was a more sensible animal, then now would be the time for him to wish her luck and gracefully step down from the hunt. He almost did just that, but something made him hesitate. On any other day he would take the sensible route. If this conversation was taking place just a day ago then he would already be heading home. But… Sierra had just saved his life. Regardless of what either one of them said, he owed her a debt. The least he could do to repay her would be to help her see this through to the end.
“Okay then.” Hawl said after a while of careful thought and consideration. “But if we are doing this. Then I hope you have enough money saved for the ship fare. Because I won't be paying for the both of us.”
Sierra smiled, then smiled wider still. She looked relieved, like a huge weight had been lifted off her back. “Yeah. Yeah I've got money. I should have enough for both of us so long as we get a fair price for the trip.” She was vibrating with emotion and couldn't contain herself. The little goat gave her buddy an affectionate little headbutt. “Thank you so much. You are amazing.”
Hawl sat there stoically as he endured the positive displays of emotion directed at him. Sleepy watched them for a bit before politely coughing into his wing. “Excuse me, but um… Are you still wanting to send a message out to Rufivil?”
Hawl had never felt so relieved to be leaving a town and venturing into the wilderness. He knew that there were numerous challenges and annoyances ahead of him that he would have to start worrying about soon. But for now he just wanted to enjoy the hot humid air and the sun on his back. The wet swampy air was heavy with a nostalgic smell of algae and dead fish. It reminded him of his puppyhood, carrying with it a whole mess of complicated emotions both good and bad.
Sierra was lagging behind him. For the first time since they started traveling together she was having trouble keeping up with the wolf's pace. Her cloven hooves were not well suited for the muddy ground, and Hawl had far more practice traversing this type of environment. So he ended up slowing down a bit for her as they made their way westward towards the coast.
At first, Hawl thought that Sierra was being quiet because she was focusing on the ground, but that didn't really make sense. Personally, he was actually enjoying his reprieve from the constant dialog, yet the silence seemed out of character for her. Was she upset? Was she worried about her friend? Did she finally run out of quaint little anecdotes? Eventually Hawl decided to initiate the conversation for once by just asking her. “You seem awfully quiet. Is something on your mind?”
“Oh. It's nothing.” Sierra… hesitated. And Hawl grew more worried because that wasn't like her either. She had thrown herself to the mercy of a mob of angry frogs without a second thought. But now she was second guessing herself?
“I understand.” They walked for a while longer in silence. Because Hawl very much was the sort of animal to hesitate in social situations. Though eventually he did find the words “Although, if you feel the need to share. I'm willing to listen.”
Sierra looked up at him and seemed to weigh something in her mind. Then she just put it out there and asked him honestly. “What do you have against birds?”
Hawl blinked and reeled back. He was expecting her to be worried about the hunt. Not- “What makes you think that I have something against birds?” He kept his voice flat and emotionless as he studied her.
Red and orange rectangular pupils studied him back as Sierra was unmoved in her conviction. “It was clear on your face and the way you talked to Sleepy. You seemed ready to disappear after what happened with the frogs. But then as soon as the bird showed up… It was like you assumed you were going to hate him before you even met the guy.”
Hawl felt off balance as he continued to walk. He wasn't used to people making observations regarding his emotional state that weren't commenting on the lack thereof. Slightly unnerved, Hawl made a deliberate effort to keep his voice monotone and void of emotion. “As a representative of the wolven empire. I strive to treat all species with the dignity and respect they deserve. If I appeared short tempered with the bird, then I assure you it was because he insulted my species and my empire. Rather than an expression of prejudice for him or his kind.”
Sierra’s frown deepened with confusion. “When did he insult your species? Or your empire for that matter. I don't remember him doing that.”
Hawl scoffed, then realized she was being completely serious. He tried to let his indignation show as he spelled it out for her. “He said that wolves wanted to be treated like dogs.”
Sierra’s confusion was not alleviated as she waited for further explanation. When it wasn't offered, she asked directly. “What's a dog?”
Hawl froze stiff for a second when he heard Sierra of all creatures say that word. It felt like a slap in the face until he reminded himself how ignorant she was of wolven culture. All his indignation from earlier was swept away in favor of what he hoped was a stern educational tone. “Don't say that word. It's a slur for wolves.”
Sierra's eyes went wide as her expression instantly flipped from disappointment, to mortified shock and shame. “Oh! I'm so sorry. I didn't mean-”
The gray wolf cut her off with a flick of his ear. “It's fine. You didn't know.” He waited a breath before he decided to give her a bit more context than that. “We wolves value hardship and determination. Our idiom demands that we face our problems head on and always strive to push ourselves to become better creatures. A dog is a wolf that has never been tested. Someone who has gone their whole lives without any pain, who is content to sit in pleasant stagnation rather than work for anything. Basically, it's a way of saying that someone is pampered, spoiled, and soft. Like they've stayed a puppy their whole lives and never grown up.”
“Oh, I see.” Sierra nodded and took a moment to sit with that information before sharing her thoughts. “In that case, I'm sure Sleepy didn't mean anything by it. I don't think having an easy life is considered a bad thing in avian culture.”
Hawl's indifferent expression was tinted with a subtle note of disdain as he blew air out his nose. “Yes, well. To be frank, their culture isn't exactly all that good in my opinion. So pardon me if that doesn't sway me.”
“Hu?” Sierra lowered her head and tilted her ears forward, as if making sure she heard him correctly. Then her voice took on a mildly defensive quality. “What's wrong with their culture?”
Hawl clenched his jaw, but kept his emotions in check as he explained. “Let me put it this way. They are gifted with the power of flight. A truly incredible ability that no other animal can ever hope to achieve outside of a Telling, and they get it simply for existing. They could have conquered the world with a power like that, if they had even half the ambition that other species do. And yet they waste their potential in favor of their own pointless hedonism. They are selfish, complacent, lazy, short sighted, weak willed, and accepting of all manor of sexual debauchery. They've never had to strive for anything because they are rendered untouchable by their biological monopoly on the skies.” Despite himself, Hawl sneered a bit. “It's pathetic really.”
Sierra wore a sardonic smile as she studied Hawl. “Oh I see what's going on here. You're jealous.”
“I-” The wolf sputtered before catching himself. He sniffed. “Of course I am jealous of flight. Who wouldn't be? But if I had to choose between being ground bound and having my head in the clouds, I would gladly keep my paws on the dirt.”
“Mhm.” Sierra gave him a flat unconvinced look, before shaking her head. “You know, just because birds have complete control of the skies doesn't mean that they are free from conflict. They've had their fair share of war you know. It's just that they fight with each other rather than other species.”
Hawl rolled his eyes. “Oh yes I am aware. I am a wolf, remember? My species bought the corpses and feasted as they tore each other out of the sky. Countless birds slaughtered by their own kin. And for what? An asinine obsession with beak color of all things? I don't think I could envision a more idiotic motivation for violence.” He flicked his nose in the air and sniffed imperiously. “But that just goes to show what happens when your society lacks for real problems. Eventually animals will start looking for trouble, and then create it if they can't find any.”
“Oh yeah. Your empire was there for that, weren't you?” Sierra's tone remained level and calm, yet she seemed dangerously sharp as she mused. “Almost makes one wonder if your presence was a motivating factor in the war. Having a price on the head of every dead soldier seems like the sort of thing that would wet the appetite of any warmonger.” She looked at Hawl to gauge his reaction.
Closing his eyes for a bit longer than a blink was the only visible indicator for Hawl's internal wince. After a long stretch of silence, he spoke. “Perhaps you are right.” His voice had taken on a softer, more respectful tone, almost apologetic. “I often fear that our hunger has a negative impact on prey society. Being an obligate carnivore is not… an easy reality to navigate, morally speaking.”
Sierra noticed the shift in Hawl's mood. From angry and envious, to somber and regretful. She felt like she had accidentally hit upon something deep and personal, that perhaps she shouldn't be seeing. It put her in the awkward position between wanting to dig deeper, and wanting to respect the wolf's privacy. “Do you… Want to talk about it?”
Hawl took a deep breath, and very deliberately steered the conversation back a few steps. Back to the safe comfort of him complaining. “My point is, birds have a lot of potential. I honestly believe they could rule the world if they weren't held back by their complacency and their worthless idiom.”
The little goat's eyes went wide. “What?! But I like their idiom!” She whined, before adopting a defensive tone. “Seriously. What's wrong with Love Conquers All? How can an idiom based on love and relationships be worthless? I think it's sweet.”
“It's saccharine is what it is.” Hawl grumbled. “Every animal cares about love and family. An idiom should be a guide for its followers. But birds are apparently so vapid and privileged that the only code they need to follow is an extremely basic mandate to love each other. Something that everyone else already does anyway.”
The goat’s face was a mix of a sardonic smile and a slight confused frown as she responded. “You know as well as I do that is not how it works. Besides, I believe wholeheartedly that all idioms are true for all animals. It's just that some species have a stronger connection to their idiom than others, and can use it as a source of power.”
Hawl scoffed. “That's all well and good. But it doesn't change the fact that Love Conquers All is ironically one of the weakest Idioms out there. You know how it works right? Their Tellings are tied to their relationships. No one bird has control over what their Telling does or how it's used. Even if they do find a useful Telling, it's not like they can really utilize it. Since a pair can only invoke the effects of their Telling in fleeting moments of passion and affection. And those pleasant emotions are hard to maintain in the kinds of high stress emergency situations that often demand the use of Tellings. This emotional hangup leads to situations where bird Tellings are always weakest when they are most needed, and strongest when they are most superfluous.”
“Oh crumbs.” Sierra exclaimed in a quiet whisper before simply stating. “You've put a lot of thought into this haven't you? You must really hate birds.”
“I don't hate birds.” Hawl insisted. “I just think there are certain aspects of their culture that are worth my criticism. I'm sure there are plenty of hardworking, honest, and ambitious birds out there. Those individuals I have no issues with. But I find that most birds have a puerile naivety about them that is quite annoying.”
“Okay… If you say so.” Sierra sighed. She didn't sound entirely convinced that Hawl wasn't a bigot. But she seemed tired enough of the topic that she wasn't willing to push back against it.
Hawl was uncomfortable with the way the conversation had gone and was regretting speaking his mind rather than giving more polite none answers to the goat's questions. So he was more than happy to accept a change of topic. And soon enough the two of them returned to their comfortable dynamic of Hawl quietly listening to Sierra ramble about some tall tale that supposedly happened to a friend of a friend.
As the two of them trudged through the mud, Hawl idly wondered if he was ever going to be featured in one of her future traveling stories. Assuming she wasn't just making it all up of course. She was traveling with a rat after all.
“Goodbye Joy, goodbye Serenity, goodbye Parvus. You three be good, okay?” Wouf had tears in his eyes as he bowed his head down to let the little creatures press themselves into his muzzle. One final show of affection before he passed them off to the care of the rabbit with the bonnet. She was looking at the bundles of cloth in the cage with a look of quiet horror. Did she know what was in those bags? Or was her off put reaction a response to the black rabbit prisoner that was heavily restrained and awkwardly held between them? He knew that the bags contained the processed corpses of his former gang. And perhaps the truth of that was apparent in his eyes.
Wouf paused for a moment and wondered if perhaps they were being a little cruel by doing that. They could have let him walk with them, or they could have carried the bags on their backs. But no one wanted to risk allowing him to flee, and the bags were heavy.
“Goodbye Wouf!” The kits all said one after the other. Before being ushered back by the nanny rabbit the city had hired to take care of them. As Wouf left them behind he was amazed by how quickly they warmed up to their new guardian. It had taken him hours to earn their trust, and she did it almost instantly. Wouf assumed that was because she was a professional. It didn't even occur to him that he might just be naturally scary to them.
“I'm gonna miss those little pups.” Wouf sniffed as he returned to the group. They were at the precinct, in a meeting room meant to host larger creatures. Reea and Mauor were talking with a timid looking rabbit who was standing on a raised desk. He regarded Wouf with a strained look. As if he couldn't understand why the big wolf would say such a thing. Then he seemed to have a moment of realization as he whispered to himself. “Beta.”
“What?” All three wolves asked at the same time. Reea because she wasn't paying attention, Mauor because she didn't hear what he said, and Wouf because he had no clue what that was supposed to mean.
The brown rabbit, Lupp’il’tom’something, made a dismissive sound as he straightened a stack of papers. “Oh nothing. Just noting something to myself.” Then he cleared his throat and put on a winning smile. “Thank you again for all your help. Breaking up the gang, capturing a live prisoner for further interrogation, gathering information on their operation, and rescuing all of the hostages? You've really gone above and beyond.” He padded the top of his desk in a show of conviction as he said. “Rest assured that our constable will take it from here and get to the bottom of this. We will find out who this group is working for and to what ends.”
Wouf nodded along. Though the mood in the room was surprisingly awkward. This Lupp guy was trying so hard to be inspiring or whatever, but his timid personality and general nervousness was robbing him of the intensity he was trying for.
Mauor looked around and then sheepishly added. “Well… not all the hostages. One of our pack is still out there looking for the rat we talked about.”
Lupp nodded self importantly. “Ah yes. This, Madam Rosary, who apparently got captured shortly before you arrived. Sadly, I am uncertain if the burrow is willing to pay for her rescue since she is not affiliated with us in any way. But I'll talk to some animals about it and see if I can get you compensated for your efforts. And speaking of payment.” He opened a drawer and pulled out three folded up pieces of paper which he handed out to them. “Here. We don't have any dead right now. But these vouchers will entitle you to three free bodies as they become available. One for each of the hostages you rescued. As promised.”
Wouf's tail stopped wagging and he lost his smile. A few choice words rose in his mind, but he wisely kept his mouth shut. Vouchers? They were paying them in vouchers? At that point they might as well have just paid them in actual currency. At least that way there was flexibility in what it could be used for. Even if most of it would surely go towards buying the dead anyway. Greedy rabbits. Wouf hated the way their prey had learned to twist their need for meat into a method for extracting wealth out of them. A lot of the empire's budget was spent on the dead. It was a huge unfair drain on their economy that other animals directly benefited from.
Mauor took the vouchers without complaint and packed them away. And Reea nodded to herself. “Alright. I think that's everything. Time for us to head home.” Then she turned towards the door.
But before she had a chance to leave, Lupp called out with a voice of concern. “Wait, you're leaving now? Aren't you going to wait for your alpha to return?”
Reea froze in the doorway, while Mauor and Wouf exchanged deeply confused looks. Then they both turned to the rabbit and asked in unison. “Our what?”
Now it was Lupp's turn to look confused as he shrank back a little. “The… alpha male of your pack? The wolf with the strongest personality, who is biologically hardwired to dominate those around him and fearlessly control all of the betas in his group with his innate leadership skills?” He lowered himself more and more as he spoke. Mostly because every word of his explanation only inspired more confusion. “Oh snakes.” He quietly muttered to himself before apologizing. “I'm so sorry. I thought the wolf with the blue markings was your alpha. If it's not him then…”
“That's…” Mauor looked like she was at a loss for words as she struggled to cut through her bafflement. “That's not a thing. I mean. He is our pack leader but that's a job position not… Whatever you are talking about.”
Wouf chuckled to himself. “Is that how rabbits work? Weird.” He sniffed curiously. “How do you tell an alpha rabbit apart from a beta rabbit? Are there other types? Why do betas follow alphas? Is it an instinct thing like us answering a howl?”
Lupp blinked and recoiled. “What? No! We don't… The alpha and beta hierarchy is a wolf thing! Isn't it?” He insisted in a disappointed, almost pleading voice.
“If it is then I've never heard of it.” Wouf admitted with a shrug. “What about you Mauor? Did they do that out on the moors?”
The off white wolf looked like she was trying to decide if she should be amused or offended as she explained. “I mean. Every group has animals that are willing to take charge and others that are more comfortable following. But that's not a function of biology. Leadership is a skill that has to be worked at and practiced like any other. No one is just born with it. That's ridiculous.”
“Can we just go already?” Reea snapped. She seemed extra uncomfortable with the topic.
“Yeah, sure.” Wouf said as he exited the building with Mauor. Reea hesitated a bit longer and when they were gone Wouf barely overheard her whisper to Lupp. “Word of advice? Read some books that are actually written by wolves. The smut you're getting your ideas from is a horrible representation of our culture.” Then she rejoined the group.
“Well that was weird.” Mauor said after a few seconds. To which Reea just rolled her eyes and started walking faster. “Just forget it. I want to go home and curl up by a fire with my spider.”
Wouf laughed at that, as he could understand the sentiment. He had family waiting for him too. The big black wolf generally enjoyed the excitement of his job. But right now, he was ready to go home.