*Note, I will finish my other story, but I am having a bit of a writer's block with it. However I just randomly started writing this and thought it would be worth sharing since its furry related...thanks for reading in advance*
Taking back the fatherland:
First of many...
Samerhain tasted the air, absorbing all the scents that made up the forest around him. The jungle in turn tasted him, for within the hungry humid air floated not only a multitude of parasitic insects, but also intelligent creatures of every kind that tasted the air on a constant basis in search of prey. The gray muzzled wolf carefully treaded forwards, keeping a close hand on the dagger that hung lazily by his side. Samerhain never had to use this dagger and was so used to it’s presence on his leg that the old wolf had long forgotten about it. Regardless, the graymuzzle was an old fashioned warrior, a fighter from a time when disputes were solved by tooth and claw rather than by spear or sword. That time had sadly passed as the goblin hordes with their ingenuity had invented these cruel weapons to push the wolves out of the forest of their ancestors.
Unlike most of the throng that followed him, Samerhain remembered fondly the days of when his kind dwelled freely within the forest, not only dwelling, but ruling for they were unchallenged in either mind or body. The lupine clan from whose bosom Samerhain was born even carried the sign of the oak as its banner, as opposed to other more primitive clans of their less developed relatives who still worshipped one of those round, bright moons in the sky above. Masters indeed they were of this precious wood in which generations of the oak clan had lived and never in their lives would they had imagined that something would come that would force the wolves out of the forest that gave them life and into the harsh terrain on the outside. In the time of the forest, the lupine warriors had no enemies whom they could not defeat, as the Oak clan possessed the finest warriors that could be had by lupine standards. Of course, challenges came from year to year, mostly coming from their less developed neighbors who too wanted dominion over the wood, but these battles had always been fought with lupine honor, with the use of tooth and claw and the Oak Clan always walked out victorious.
That was, until the goblins came. When these foul creatures had first invaded the wolves’ precious forest, little notice was paid to them for none of the wolves, not even any of the less developed clans had ever though to consider these oddly misshaped, yet strangely humanoid creature as anything more than another form of unintelligent forest life. Little did the Wolves know that these foul smelling creatures would become their downfall. Perhaps the cut was even deeper for the goblins lived among the wolf clans relatively unharmed for several years before staging their violent coup. Of course, once in a while, a goblin or two would end up being killed but that was usually of their own fault. No self respecting wolf would eat a goblin, especially not a Wolf of the Oak Clan.
The attack came suddenly and viciously. The goblins, managing to arm themselves tooth and nail right under the wolves watch were able to slaughter their mostly beneficent hosts with a great glee of viciousness. Tooth and claw ended up to be useless against sharp sword and shield. Not a single hide among wolfkind was left unharmed. Forced to withdraw or face certain death, those who were still able to walk, retreated from the wood and thus the land of their ancestors was left in the hands of the pestilent green skinned creatures.
In the years since, the Oak Clan to which Samerhain belonged had managed to rally up as many of the other clans as they could and share all possible technology and know how with their less developed relatives, hoping by means of exposition to elevate the intelligence of their fellow wolves. It had worked with some but failed miserably with others, mostly with those who did not belong to the Oak Clan. Samerhain like the rest of his clanmates knew that they could not hope to defeat the sword and spear armed goblins by the traditional wolvish method of tooth and claw. No, the elders of the clan, sacrificed a great amount of their fellow wolves to steal, observe and harvest the Goblin’s crude technology and reshape it to fit a wolf’s noble paw rather than the thin crooked fingers of the goblins. Great practice and great planning had come together over an entire generation of wolfkind to prepare for the battle to come and to make each and every one of the wolves as adept with the sword and shield as they had been with their teeth and claws. Back when the wolves retreated, Samerhain was no more than a scrawny pup. Now he had grown into a noble and respected male of his own rank, standing proudly at a height of just about 7 feet and with a coat that in its luster would make even the finest female blush.
Now that noble, gracious figure of Samerhain stood proudly on an outcropping overlooking the edge of the wood from which he had fled as a young, scrawny pup. The wolf’s crystal blue eyes scanned below and noted a number of fires that denoted goblin camps. Samerhain’s nostrils tasted that repugnant smell of goblin cooking that wafted through the air and upon seeing the number of fires, for a moment, even he, perhaps one of the bravest of his kind thought about retreat. But the sight of large, barren patches in parts of the great wood, patches that the careless, parasitic goblins had singed out in their avarice quickly burned that though out of the wolf’s mind.
“Samerrie…” The soft voice brought Samerhain’s attention back to what was in front of him. The green eyed lady that was his mate stared at him, knowing full well that she could not dissuade her loving mate from what was surely going to be a vicious battle. Samerhain knew that too and so he wrapped his muscular arm along her, patting her on the head with the sharp clawed paw but gently enough not to disturb a single hair on his mate’s soft reddish muzzle.
The pair embraced, Samerhain taking in the smell of her soft fur, that gentle smell that reminded him of home and of their children but it lasted for just a second as the disgusting smell of goblin cooking again assailed the wolf’s nostrils, pushing these gentle sensations away. The wolf turned away from his lover and again stared obsessively at the goblin fires below. Once Samerhain felt her leave, the wolf turned and waved to a few fighters standing at a respectable distance from their leader.
“Boys, looks like its starting!” announced Samerhain, still keeping an eye at the increasing amount of activity below.
“Yes yes brother, I shall inform the others” responded one of the young fighters whom Samerhain addressed. The nearly snow white youngster, with a spear in his paws ran off and soon the entire lupine camp was awash with activity, rapidly organizing for the assault that was at hand. Samerhain shook his head, moving away from the vantage point on the outcropping and tried to shake away all of the sensations that had touched his senses when she was there but a moment ago. Samerhain hoped that the clan would not fail so that his pups could grow up in the same fields of wood where the graymuzzle had spent his youth.
The loud, rhythmic pounding of the goblin’s disgusting leather drums now began to be audible. The wolves prepared. The first battle was at hand.
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