Wolf Neighbours

Tonight, I will begin to tell you a story of wolf neighbours.

Featuring mist and murder, regrets and revenge.
Content warnings for body horror and violence.

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Wolf Neighbours – Chapter 11

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Gove’s first thought was that no, Miter had not been lying; these were not town guards.

The north circuit guardsen were equipped in proper armor, heavy broad iron plates tied together and rattling across their torsos; they had shortbows stowed in quivers hung across their backs. Their boots were thick, fine leather; she could hear the muffled wood soles booming across the planks of the bridge. And they all looked like they’d wrestled a bear or two; the two women in front both had scars visible on their faces beneath the telltale fur hats.

The confusion of the difference meant that she did not immediately bolt, as she had promised herself she would; and Miter grabbed her arm before she changed her mind.

“Gove—” he gently led her back against the house where he’d met the weaver earlier; “—don’t do anything stupid.”

She turned to glare at him, and saw him staring at the parading guards with a strange look on his face — his eyes alight, his brow furrowed.

“Do you … know them?”

Miter nodded, absently. “I don’t know why they’re here, though.”

The flow of the crowd had completely reversed. People were following the guards back into the square, and the volume of conversation was rising with excitement. Gove saw two guards hand-pulling a cart, laden with pelts, and standing in it was a woman who was undoubtedly in charge; she had a formal shawl over her armor.

Miter’s hand on her arm twitched as he stared at the woman, who was holding up wolf pelts and draping them over her arms despite the heat.

Gove whispered; “Who is she?”

“That’s the captain, Yaska.” He kept staring as the cart wheeled through the fog towards the market.

Behind the cart walked two guards with pelts hung like banners from long spears; wolf pelts, Gove guessed. Another ten or so marched behind them; and the crowd followed. She hesitated as Miter tugged her with him towards the market square; but her curiosity got the better of her.

The market square had rearranged itself around Yaska, who stood atop the cart draped in full north circuit regalia and layers of wolf pelts despite the season. Gove suddenly felt chilled in her summer shift and shortened pants. She had tried to tuck herself half behind Miter, but he made some comment about blocking her view, and firmly pushed her in front of him. Mercifully the square was thick with people and fog, and they were to the side, not directly in the captain’s line of sight. Gove took in a deep, steadying breath.

Wolf Neighbours – Chapter 12

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Captain Yaska started with a formal greeting, gesturing at the river and the buildings and the escarpment, and encompassing the whole community.

Gove had to admit, she didn’t seem like your usual guardsen. She was shorter than most of them, though probably not as short as Gove; she wore her long hair loose under the official fur hat, and she spoke like she was hawking wares at the market, not showing up to presumably collect taxes to take south.

“You have heard the rumours, and I am here to tell you that they are true. We have been crusading against the cruel northern wolves for two years now!” She pulled up one of the wolf pelt banners and hammered the staff loudly on the wagon bed. “They will take no more of your livestock, they will take no more of your lives!”

Gove snuck a look back at Miter; he was smoothing his beard, and half-smiling. He caught her looking, and shrugged. “Yaska loves a dramatic entrance.”

For a bit, Gove thought the townsfolk had actually bought this transparent excuse to bring a whole team of guardsen, all well armed, into their midst; but finally an older woman interrupted the captain’s claims.

“But what about Mabek? Did their curse get him?”

Mabek. Cold lightning ran up Gove’s spine.

Immediately, Yaska’s broad-armed, friendly posture closed back up into a frustrated glower. She turned her gaze on the woman, but before she could respond, the crowd began to join in.

“Was it the wolves? Didn’t they curse Lorel?”

“Mabek wasn’t the first! What about Derva?”

“Are we all cursed by the wolves?”

Yaska hammered her staff on the wagon bed until the crowd went silent.

“Mabek!” She paused to stare at the sky and take a deep breath. “Mabek was my trusted second in command, gone over two months now, and I will not have his memory sullied with superstitious talk of curses.”

Gove felt suddenly very aware of the cool touch of the gathering fog on her skin. Two months didn’t make sense. From behind her in the crowd, someone called out;

“But what could have killed a young man like Mabek!”

Gove twitched as Miter’s hand fell on her shoulder again. “Gove, just wait —“

But Yaska turned their direction and, seemingly staring directly into Gove’s eyes, pronounced with unsettling finality;

“You can rest easy, I know exactly what killed him—“

And that was enough for Gove. She turned and fled; away from Miter, away from the crowd, away from the captain of the guard who very clearly knew more than she should, into the fog.