The Wulfepack

Click here to edit subtitle

The Legend of the Wulfepack by Pocotippy (3rd Prize)

Posted by aandrade76 on December 31, 2013 at 1:30 PM

“ It’s time, meet at Winter’s den. Midnight.” SteelWulfe said to me. He tuned and ran off into the woods, changing into his silvery wolf form as he ran. I looked up at the sky. It was 10 pm. Nearly there, I thought. The wind blew through my hair and I caught a whiff of rabbit. I resisted the urge to transform and capture it. I didn’t want to waste my energy for tonight. I turned and walked into the woods towards my den.

I closed my eyes and fell to sleep. But I dreamed. Images flashed in my mind. I saw blood splattering on white and heard pained howls. Teeth and claws flashed across my eyes. Then I saw the members of my pack slowly fading away. Suddenly, I saw what looked like a wolf made of metal, something like iron or steel, lying motionless in front of me.

I blinked my eyes open and looked outside. It was just a dream, forget it. The full moon was high in the sky, shining like a jewel. I smiled. It’s time. I raced out of my den, towards Winter’s den. I could feel my face elongating, my teeth getting sharper. The trees rose up around me as my legs got stronger. I weaved in and out of trees, faster and faster. The snow crunched under my paws and the wind ruffled my fur. Soon, I arrived in front of Winters den, sparkling with snow and moonlight. In front of it was the pack, a group of wolves with Steel at the head. In nudged his head, indicating me to follow him. Then he took off.

We soon arrived at a clearing in the woods. In front of us stood the West pack, our greatest rivals. Their leader, CopperWulfe, snarled at us. His tany pelt glowed copper in the moonlight, showing off his namesake. We snarled back, returning the favor. It started snowing, but I knew it would all soon be stained red. I could practically smell the tension in the air. After all, thw winner of this battle would get Winter’s den. Then we jumped.

I ripped into pelts of unsuspected wolves, seeing the blood stain my claws. I howled as I felt claws ripped into my own pelt. Similar cries of pain sounded up from the clearing. Then, a howl echoed across the field. I turned, it was Copperwulfe. He stood over top of Steel, his muzzle dripping with blood. Steel wasn’t moving. I looked around at the rest of the pack. Some were dead, most were injured severely. I howled the retreat call.

We ran away that day. The rest of the pack have died long ago. Though my wolf form is gone, I live. I am the last descendant of the Wulfe pack.

I am IronWulfe. And the pack will return.

Categories: Wulfepack Folklore (Tales and legends of our exploits)

Post a Comment


Oops, you forgot something.


The words you entered did not match the given text. Please try again.

You must be a member to comment on this page. Sign In or Register