Rawr Wolf DNO Older bling in fam's blog: "Wolf's Tails"

  FireHeart looked around with excitement, after all this was his first Moot after surviving the Rite of Passage. An unusual rite that was, it is common for a were to die every once in a while during the Rite of Passage, but FireHeart was the only survivor out of four.

  As he watched his pack mates he noticed Greymane, the tribe's leader stirring uneasily, his hackles raised. This made him feel a little better, for being here, somewhere deeper in the forest than any other of his pack had ever been, apparently made all of them feel a little nervous. The air here was alive with a charge of some kind of energy. Making his fur tingle. It was almost as if there was a Caern here. But that was impossible, for they knew every Caern in the forest.

  FireHeart looked for the Dark One, as everyone called him, that appeared one night, warning the whole tribe about an attack by creatures of the Wyrm. There was no way the tribe could have survived that fight. FireHeart wondered how Greymane felt after being literally snatched from the jaws of the Wyrm by the Dark One. After that night, the mysterious wolf  was allowed to stay with the Red Talons.

  ''Another unusual thing." FireHeart muttered faintly, causing several of his packmates to turn and give him warning growls. For younglings were not supposed to interrupt anything. Even waiting, no matter how odd the idea that a Ronin would be allowed to stay with the pack with no further explanations.

  Whenever asked, the Dark One would reply, "The next full light of Luna I shall show you where I came from." This is all he would say on the subject, no matter who asked him.

  And much to FireHeart's surprise this was enough. It was not fear, he could not smell fear on any of his pack mates. The Dark One certainly was not of the Wyrm, that was obvious the night he appeared. Nor was it a glamour, by this time if it was that, someone would have broken free and wrecked a blood vengeance on the midnight black wolf.

  If anything, it was the same thing FireHeart felt, a somehow overpowering sense of awe. As if this black wolf was somehow much more than what he seemed. And the only scents that the pack could pick up was an ever changing smell of the Wyld. Not something that a Red Talon would mind, but not normal either.

  Suddenly in the middle of FireHeart's musings, the Dark One just appeared on the rock in the center of the clearing, causing the tribe to jump and several of the Ahroun to almost go into a rage.

"The power here is almost more than we can handle," FireHeart thought worriedly, "even I want to change and I hate the two legged form."

  The Dark One ignored the ripple of unease that ran through the Sept. Instead he turned to face the east, where Luna was just beginning to appear in full splendor.

  As the shadows raced across the clearing, the Dark One let out a long howl of greeting to Luna and then turned to face the wolves surrounding him.

 "Welcome my children." said he, as another ripple crossed the pack, this time for a much different reason. "Listen as I tell you of a story from before the Wyrm turned evil, and the Weaver went mad.

  Long ago when the triat was whole, the Weaver would weave the pattern, the Wyld infused the spirit, and the Wyrm maintained the balance of life, death, and time.

  In the beginning there was much creation on the parts of the Weaver, whose patterns shaped all things, and the Wyrm who controled life and death. Soon the Celestials like Gaia and Luna were brought into being. And even they, the creations of others, made their own servants to carry out their will.

  The Wyld looked on his brethren's work and at first found much joy at the sight. For Gaia had created the beasts and plants to roam her being, The Weaver had created patterns that made one want to weep, and the Wyrm maintained the balance to keep it all in harmony."

  FireHeart had a sudden shock as the words brought back a memory from his Rite of Passage. All of a sudden he could once again see the bodies of his playmates scattered dead, on the forest floor as the creatures that killed them stalked up. Then suddenly there was some ever changing spirit in front of him. Going from creature to creature with no rhyme or reason to the shape.

  Once again the black lupus' words startled him from his thoughts.

  "But as time past the Wyld grew envious of his sibling's creations. Since the Wyld's spirit was in all things created, the other two felt that the Wyld should be content and not want to have so much. He would say to himself, 'Why should the Weaver be able to create the patterns of life, when I, who gives those patterns the essential spirit, can not make my own patterns?

  Why should the Wyrm control life and death when I, who gives the spirit, may not?

  Why may Gaia, only a Celestial, make her servants and the creatures of the wilderness, when he could not?

  So the Wyld set upon a plan, he would waited until the Wyrm in an act of balance smashed some of the Weaver's web. The Wyld was found throughout the pattern at that time, so the Wyrm would think  nothing of the Wyld being right there. Then the Wyld could take some of the web and shape his own creations."

  As the energies flowed through the night a wave of transformation hit the pack. Almost without knowing it, the wolves rippled through the change that left them either much larger wolves or half wolf and half human. Meanwhile the Dark one continued.

  "The Wyld did so and the next time the Wyrm smashed the pattern, the Wyld was there to take any pieces he could find. What was found one one large piece and five small pieces, which he took with him into the deepest of forests.

  Out of the large piece he made the Wyldling we call the Vortex. Since that piece was weak, the Vortex's violent energies tore pieces off itself creating the Lesser Wyldlings. These he made his personal servants and messengers.

  Each of the smaller pieces the Wyld made into Wylders, to insure the Wyld's presence in the pattern. To the Wylders, the Wyld gave the gift of form. These creatures could take shape of anything that belonged to the Wyld and since all living things had the Wyld's spirit, there were many forms to take."

  Again the vision of the ever changing creature that helped him kill those shadowy demons that killed his play mates, stabbed against FireHeart's brain.

  "Now the creations were eventually found out by the Weaver and the Wyrm. The Wyrm just planned to wait until there was a time to balance the pattern. But the Weaver was angered to unreasoning. For the Weaver felt the Wyrm destroying her lovely web was bad enough, but to have the Wyld to steal that selfsame web was too much.

  The Weaver then tried to spin a web over everything, incorporating it into the pattern. She could not weave the ever changing Wyld in completely, but did catch the Wyrm in the web. This caused the Wyrm to go mad and to try to destroy everything. For if it could destroy the pattern then it would be free.

  As the places between worlds got harder to get to, the Wyld pulled all but his spirit siblings the Wylders into the Deep Umbral. The Wylders stayed to protect the Wyld in the physical realm."

  The speaker seemed to be swallowed in shadows as his emerald eyes bored into FireHeart's.

  "This place is where the Wyld created his children and one of the most powerful of his Caerns has grown here.

  The Wyrm grows more powerful each day, and we need to go to fight it elsewhere. So I entrust this Caern to you, especially the youngling here. We will be back, as well as around, at times. So I need not remind you  that this is a very powerful place. The Weaver nor Wyrm must never find it, or the Wyld and Gaia shall loose much."

  And with that the long, lean, black furred wolf transformed almost instantly into an owl and flew off, leaving everyone staring in the direction of Luna. Except FireHeart who still stared at the rock, jaws wide open.