Ander - Part 2: Subchapter 39
39
"So, you think it's true?"
"Is what true?"
"You know, that thing about the Wolf."
"Oh, that thing. I dunno. Dad seems to think so."
Luke folded his hands behind his head and lay back on the grass, his pants legs rolled up and his feet dangling inside the bubbly waters of the Farmer's River. Of course, that name was only a technicality this far East. Theirs was the only farm for miles and miles.
"It's because of that letter he got from Uncle Jon," Timothy said, imitating his big brother, although you'd never hear the little guttersnipe call him that. Since they were born only eleven and a half months apart, he had it in his head that they were born during the same year (which was technically true) and therefore they were the same age (also technically true, but only for two weeks each year), and therefore he wasn't Luke's 'younger' brother, but rather a very, very late 'twin.'
Yeah, it didn't make much sense, but Timothy hardly ever did. Luke didn't mind, though. His 'little twin' made life interesting this far out in the willy-wags.
"And how would you know what Uncle Jon said in that letter?" Luke asked, not really caring about the answer, just content to relax here by the riverbank, skimping on his chores.
"I know because I read it."
"Ha! Dad's gonna whup you if he finds out."
"Only if you tell him."
"And why wouldn't I?"
"Because then I won't tell you what was in there."
"What makes you think I won't listen to what was in there and then go tell Dad on you anyways?"
"Because -" Here Tim's debating talents failed him. "Dargh! Do you want to hear the story or not!?"
"Okay, okay!" Luke said, sort of laughing as he did. Messing with his little bro was too easy sometimes.
Tim immediately launched into his story, starting (as always) with the requisite opening of: "Get this!"
Luke rolled his eyes, but perked his ears just the same.
"So there's this vixen, right? Um... Kiana, I think her name is. She runs away from home."
"Why?"
"How should I know? Anyway! She runs away and at first everybody thinks she'll turn up once she gets hungry enough, you know?"
"Does she?"
"No! She doesn't! So now everybody's getting worried, going out looking for her, the usual. Then!"
"Then they find her bloated corpse in the attic, brutally murdered to death by her evil husband! Oh yeah!"
"What? No, you idiot! She wasn't even married! Anyway! She comes back! But with a Wolf at her heel!"
"Tripe."
"I swear to the gods!"
"And how does Uncle Jon know all this?"
"Because he saw 'im! He said it came right up to his mill and fixed his wagon in like, two seconds! Just lifted the whole thing up over his head with one hand! Fully loaded!"
"Tripe." Luke could usually give his bro the benefit of the doubt when it came to most things. He has developed a kind of 'Timothy adaptor' in his head over the years that lets him translate most of his insane ramblings into a language that at least made some kind of sense, but a Wolf lifting a fully loaded wagon above its head with one hand? That was a bit of a stretch.
"Nuh-uh! It's true!" Tim insisted.
"Nope."
"Well, that's what the letter said!"
"And how big was this Wolf?"
"I dunno, it didn't say. Just that it was 'really big.'"
"With glowing red eyes and claws like pitchforks, no doubt?"
"Make fun all you want, but I figure it has to be at least as big as a horse. Maybe even bigger!"
"And what's this thing doing going around fixing everybody's wagons for?"
"I dunno, but wouldn't it be awesome to see something like that? Do you think maybe we could get Dad to take us along next time he goes into town?"
"And leave Val behind? All by herself?" Valery was their little sister. She used to be even livelier than Timothy, but then Mom died. Now she just keeps to herself, 'The single rose among thorns,' as Dad liked to call her.
"She can come along, if she wants." Tim said, splashing his feet in the water, up and down. "It would be fun."
"Maybe," Luke admitted. Life could be really dull here, so far from the other Foxes, but he knew something Tim hasn't come to understand yet.
Dad doesn't like going to town. He doesn't like talking to the other Foxes. He doesn't even like looking at the lights at the other end of the valley on clear nights.
Too much of Mom everywhere; in the faces of the Foxes they used to be friends with... on the roads they used to walk together, hand in hand... inside every room of the house they used to call home. So many memories shared, all just lying around, waiting to snag him like a rusty nail, only no amount of hammering could make this nail go away. That's why they moved all the way out here. Dad didn't want to be reminded of her every two minutes.
Sometimes, Luke wondered if Dad ever looked at them and only saw a trio of rusty old nails...
But wait, why was Tim being so quiet all of a sudden? He turned his head, thinking that maybe his little bro had fallen asleep in the sunshine again, but what he found was the exact opposite. Tim was sitting up with his mouth hanging open, his eyes as big as dinner plates.
"Tim?"
Without a word, he raised one trembling hand and pointed upriver. Luke followed the imaginary line with his eyes until they fell on -
What the hell was that!?
The sight of it suddenly made his entire body feel like his feet; as if an icy torrent of water was washing over him.
"Luke, what the hell is that?" Tim asked, echoing his big twin's thoughts exactly.
"I dunno," Luke said, getting to his feet. It was difficult to tell from this distance, and he had no intention of going any closer. Even though it was just lying there, half in and half out of the river, completely motionless, its size was all too obvious. That thing was huge. It was a great big huge... thing, its dark colour making it stick out like a cockroach on a sweet roll.
"I think..." Tim said, his eyes growing even wider until Luke feared his eyeballs would just fall right of their sockets and plop down to the ground. "I think it's a bear!"
"I dunno, Tim. That doesn't look like any bear I've ever seen."
"Then let's go get a closer look!"
"We should tell Da- Wait, what!? Are you crazy? You just said it's a bear!"
"Yeah, exactly!"
Luke quickly stepped around his little twin to get a better look at his face. What he at first mistook for shock and fear was actually pure excitement. He was practically beaming with it!
"Tim, it's official. You have gone off the deep end. You took whatever wits the gods saw fit to bestow upon you and you chucked them off a cliff. You are unquestionably insane."
"I'm not crazy!"
"Said the Fox who wants to go pet a wild bear."
"I'm not gonna go pet it, you igrunamous! I just want to get a closer look, that's all. Besides, it's dead."
"How do you know that?"
"Just look at it! It's totally dead! Dead as a dormouse, dead as a doornail, dead as a... door."
"And if it's not?"
"You can stay here like a scared little vixen for all I care. I'm gonna go check it out, whether you come with me or not."
"That sounds like an incredibly stupid idea to me."
"Suit yourself, Miss Vixy McVixington." With that, Timothy sprinted upriver, his tail swishing back and forth in his excitement.
"Don't come crying to me if that thing jumps up and eats your face off!" Luke yelled after his moronic little brother. "Stupid idiot, calling me a vixen... Not like I care, anyway..." He folded his arms across his chest, the epitome of rational thought, valiantly standing against all forms of brainless shenanigans and suicidal skylarking that could get you killed and/or disembowelled. He wouldn't be the one screaming for help from a big brother who was too chicken to look out for his retarded little...
"Oh, for gods' sake..." Luke moaned. "Tim! Wait up!"
*
"Whoa..." Tim said.
"Whoa indeed," Luke agreed. It was all he could think of to say. There were no words that could accurately describe what he was feeling. At least not any that he knew of.
"Hey, Luke?"
"Yeah?"
"I don't think this is a bear."
"You're a genius, Tim."
"Go bite a thistle."
He was right, though. It was really big like a bear, and it had the dark black fur of a bear, but a bear it most definitely was not. Despite his better judgement, Luke crept a little bit closer, his muscles tense, ready to jump back the moment it showed any signs of movement.
It lay facedown on the embankment, its long legs still in the river. The water made a bouncy little dune as it tried to flow over them, making a sound no different to what it always made, day in, day out, but to Luke's ears it now carried a note of something sinister. The river was simply flowing on like it always did, as if this thing, this thing that used to be alive, was just another log in its way, something to flow over and under and around.
What stood out most for him was how this creature was wearing pants. Yes, they were of the primitive leather sort, fashioned out of dried buckskin by the looks of them, but still, pants.
"- is missing." Tim said, jerking him out of his thoughts.
"What?"
"I said his foot is missing. Look." Tim pointed with a long stick he had picked up along the way, the tip jittering slightly.
He was right. There was a huge black paw sticking out of its left pants leg, but nothing coming out of the right one. The end was just flapping in the stream.
"I wonder what happened," Luke said, his eyes slowly travelling up its body, coming to rest on its bare back. With its fur all wet and plastered to its skin, its muscles stood out like cords. By the gods, its shoulders must be wider than their whole front door! And those hands, easily bigger than dinner plates! They lay palm-down in the sand on either side of its head, its fingers splayed out, each one tipped with a long, black claw.
Despite his initial trepidation, Luke was becoming more and more fascinated by what he saw. He crouched down to get an even closer look and, not to be outdone by his brother, Tim followed suit. Side by side, they examined its face like a pair of old prospectors.
Upon closer inspection, it really wasn't all that different from a Fox's face. Sure, it was big and black, but the shape was about the same. "I think this is a Wolf..." Luke said, incredulous.
"The same one from Uncle Jon's letter?"
"How the hell should I know?" For some reason Tim always assumed he must know all the right answers, especially when there was absolutely no way for him to know any such thing. It was like a law, or something. "I suppose it could be, but what would it be doing all the way out here?"
"Maybe he fell in the river?"
"Oh, sure. And then it drowned in four feet of water after a ferocious catfish bit its foot off."
Tim stuck his tongue out while Luke, being way too mature for such childish indulgences, ignored him, choosing instead to come up with a more plausible theory. "I think somebody musta killed it," he said. "Then dumped the body in the river."
"What? Why would somebody kill a Wolf who fixes wagons?"
"I don't know, but if he died normally, then he would've been buried somewhere, stupid."
"Oooh! I think you're right," Timothy said, tentatively reaching for it with his stick.
"Hey, what are you doing!?"
"I'm gonna poke it, what's it look like?"
"Don't poke it!"
"Why not?"
"Would you poke a dead Fox?"
"Probably, yeah. But this isn't even a Fox."
"It looks pretty Foxish to me. If you ignore the size and colour, I mean."
"You're crazy. His muzzle is waaaay too wide."
"Well, maybe, I guess." Luke had to admit that Tim did have a point there. Those jaws were downright scary.
"I just want to check something real quick..." Tim said, the tip of his stick edging ever closer towards the dead Wolf's face.
As much as Luke wanted to tell his little bro to not poke the big scary Wolf with a stick, he also kinda did want his little bro to poke the big scary Wolf with a stick. Seriously, how often does something like this happen? Never, that's how often.
Luke held his breath as Tim eased the tip of the stick into the Wolf's mouth and carefully lifted its upper lip, revealing two rows of truly monstrous teeth, wicked sharp.
"Holy crap!" Timothy exclaimed, jerking the stick back. "Those things are bigger than my fingers!"
"I bet they're bigger than Dad's fingers!" Luke added, trying to imagine what it would be like to have those teeth clamp down on you. They'd probably take your head clean off.
He was just about to mention this thought when he noticed his brother's face. He had that look in his eyes again, something Luke liked to think of as 'The Crazy Eyes.' It was a sure sign that his little twin was about to propose something exceptionally stupid. And for him, that's saying a lot.
"I dare you to touch 'im!"
Just once, Luke would like to know what it felt like to be wrong about his brother's idiocy. Just once. "Nope."
"Oh, c'mon!"
"Noooooope."
"Just one little touch! I dare you!"
"Nopity nope nope nope."
"You scared?"
"I wouldn't be sitting here if I was scared."
"You're scared."
"No! It just feels wrong."
"Scared."
"Just because I don't like touching dead things doesn't mean I'm scared!"
"Scared."
"It's disrespectful!"
"Scaaaaared."
"Oh, fine! Gimme the damn stick!"
"Nuh-uh! Use your finger."
"What!?"
"You heard me. Use your finger, otherwise it wouldn't be touching, it would be poking. Two completely different things."
"You can still poke with a finger!" Luke demonstrated this fact by giving his little bro a hard jab in the shoulder.
"Ow! But you can't touch with a stick! That's what I'm saying."
"Mrehgrr..." Luke grumbled. "If I do this, then you'll have to do it, too. That's the rule."
"Of course."
"Okay, here I go," Luke said, steeling himself for what must be the stupidest, most exhilarating thing Tim has ever dared him to do.
"So go already."
"Shut up! I'm gonna!"
"So do it. Nobody's stopping you."
"Shut up and I will."
Wonder of wonders, Tim actually shut up. Normally this would be something to rejoice over, but now he had absolutely no way to put this off any longer. Damn.
"Okay, here goes..." Luke reached out, his index finger extended. He didn't want to put his hand anywhere near its mouth after seeing all those teeth, so he went straight for its shoulder. There were little white grains of sand sticking to its fur here and there, reminding him of the night sky. He wondered how long this Wolf has been dead for, and how long it's been drifting along the river. It can't have been very long, since decomposition doesn't seem to have set in. It didn't even have that 'dead thing' smell yet; that smell that made you crinkle your nose and turn your head away on pure reflex. The water was probably helping with that, though.
Luke's fingertip finally pushed up against the brute's shoulder, its fur thick and wet, but still coarse to the touch. He wondered if any bugs have taken up residence in this fine establishment of dead meat yet, like maggots or carrion beetles. They just love to dig and burrow into... oh crap, he was making himself feel sick. He wanted nothing more than to jerk his hand away from this dead thing lying in the sun, but that would make him look like a coward, so he held his finger right where it was for five more seconds, keeping a straight face despite expecting some creepy crawly to skitter up his arm at any moment. When the countdown reached zero in his head, he casually pulled his hand back, cool as can be, turned to his brother and said, "Your turn," all while fighting the mad urge to dunk his finger in the river and scrub and scrub till his fur came off.
"Uh-huh..." Tim replied, but he wasn't so great at hiding his reluctance. The little urchin probably thought his big bro would chicken out. Serves him right.
"What are you waiting for? An engraved invitation?" Luke said, giving him a taste of his own medicine.
"No, I was just stratergizing, that's all."
"What's there to strategize? You reach out and you touch him, just like I did. End of story."
"Pffft, I can do better than that. You just watch." Timothy reached out, not for the Wolf's shoulder, but his face.
"Um, Tim?" He didn't want to sound too concerned, but saying 'Um, Tim?' whenever his little brother was about to do something stupid was almost second nature to him. "I don't think that's such a good idea."
"For gods' sakes, Luke, it's dead. Look, I'll prove it..."
"What are you...?" Luke couldn't even finish his question. He could only stare, dumbfounded, as Tim's finger hovered above the Wolf's nose. Poking a dead Wolf in the shnoz would have been bad enough, but apparently Tim wouldn't be satisfied with something so blasé, because his hand just kept on going until it was right above the creature's closed eyelid.
"I'm gonna open it..." he said, The Crazy Eyes out in full force.
"Okay, Tim, I am serious now. That is a really, really bad idea." There was something off about that eyelid, but Luke couldn't quite put his finger on it, unlike what his little bro planned to literally do mere moments from now. It just looked... weird. Somehow different from what an eye was supposed to look like.
As Tim's reaching fingers drew ever closer to the Wolf's eye, a horrible thought flashed into Luke mind, like a premonition. He could see that eyelid flip open, all by itself, revealing a blood red eye. He could see it swivel inside the monster's skull and lock onto his little's brother's, freezing him in place like an adder would paralyse a field mouse with its stare. He could see the Wolf grab Tim by the wrist with its monstrous claws, each one easily puncturing skin as it tightened its grip until his bones snapped between its fingers like dry twigs. He could hear his little bro screaming for help as the Wolf opened its jaws and -
Oh dear gods up in heaven, he's really gonna do it, Luke thought, watching as Tim placed his finger over the Wolf's eye. He had to scrape together every ounce of willpower he had just to keep from snapping his own eyes shut in response. This is it, here it comes...
Tim slowly brushed the Wolf's eyelid, moving it up, delicately peeling it back until...
"Holy crap!" he shrieked, jerking his hand back.
"Aargh! What, what!?" Luke exclaimed, wondering what would kill him first; the Wolf or the heart attack.
"Its eye is gone! By my living Soul, eeeewww!"
"What?"
"Are you deaf? I said its eye is gone!"
"Its eye!?"
"It's gone!"
"You little bastard! You nearly -"
"What?"
"Never mind." Luke took a deep breath and sighed with relief. The way his heart pounded against his ribcage he figured he wouldn't have to worry about it stopping anytime soon.
The eyelid stayed half open after Tim jerked his hand back (Luke made a mental note to tease him on that later), revealing... well, a lot more than Luke wanted to see, to tell the truth.
Its eye was indeed gone. Where it was supposed to be was only an empty socket, still red with a layer of dried bloodflakes. The bone peeked out from underneath this cracked layer like the white veins in a hunk of watermelon. That's why the eyelid looked so weird a moment ago. It was just a flap of skin with nothing to hold it up, like a sail without a breeze.
Even though that eye (or lack thereof) was nasty to look at, it actually set Luke's mind at ease. It proved that his little 'premonition' was just his imagination going overboard again. There was no demonic red eye in there waiting to shoot hellfire at them. It was just a poor dead Wolf, either the victim of foul play or a horrible accident. If this was indeed the Wolf that had fixed Uncle Jon's wagon, then they should be ashamed of themselves, poking its body like a couple of hooligans.
"I think maybe we've messed around long enough," he said. "Time to tell Dad."
"Yeah," Tim said, maybe feeling the same things. This had started out as a scary, but fun little gross-out game, but now it was quickly turning into something sad. Looking at this giant, once a being of unquestionable strength, now reduced to a powerless plaything for inconsiderate Foxes playing cubs' games... there was no dignity in that.
"But first..." Luke reached out for the Wolf, his hand trembling only slightly.
"What are you doing?" Tim asked.
"I'm going to close his eye again," Luke said, looking over his shoulder at his confused little bro. "It's the proper thing to -"
Sssht.
That sound, barely louder than a whisper, there and gone in less than a second.
Luke spun his head back to the Wolf so fast he could hear the bones pop in his neck. "What was that!?"
"What was what?"
"Didn't you hear that?"
"Hear what!?"
Frozen in place with arm still reaching out, Luke examined the Wolf's body very carefully. For just a second, it sounded like the noise had come from...
No, it couldn't be. It was still lying in exactly the same position as before; down on its stomach, legs in the water, arms stretched out by its head. It hasn't moved a single muscle. It couldn't. Because it's dead. The thing he heard was probably his own footstep on the smooth river gravel.
"Oh, nothing," he said. "I was just messing with you."
"Jeez, Luke! That was not funny!"
No, it wasn't, Luke thought, his hand creeping ever closer the Wolf's empty eye. Not one bit...
He couldn't help but feel slightly disgusted as his finger touched down on that eyelid, so bendy and yielding. Without an eyeball to back it up, it was really more like a flapping curtain. Urgh, what was the point in acting all respectful if he couldn't even keep a straight face? He turned his head off to the side as he pulled the eyelid down, partly because he didn't want Tim to see how creeped out he was, partly because he didn't want to look at that big bloody socket anymore. Even though it was empty, it still felt like it was looking at him somehow, like it was trying to get one last peek in before he closed it for good.
Wow, now that was a pleasant thought.
Luke's eyes fell on the Wolf's hands again, the fingers curled in, eight little trenches dug in the sand by its claws, slowly filling up with seepage from the riv -
Wait... weren't those fingers splayed out just a while ago?
Everything stopped in that moment. Everything. The river stopped flowing across the pebbles, the wind stopped blowing, the trees stopped swaying, their shadows frozen across the grass. Luke's heart stopped midbeat, his entire body locked in time. He couldn't even hear Tim's breathing anymore. It was as if nothing existed, just those eight little trenches in the ground that weren't there before.
But they were there now, oh yes. They were there. Dug by dead claws.
Dead claws that maybe weren't so dead after all.
Powerless to stop himself, Luke looked down at the Wolf's face. Its empty eye was closed, held down by his finger, but the other one, the one nearest to the ground...
It was open.
It was staring.
It was staring at him.
The lock broke in that instant, and everything around him suddenly sped up. The river babbled across the pebbles, the wind blew in his face, his heartbeat raced in his chest, he could hear his little bro behind him, could actually feel him looking over his shoulder, completely oblivious to the danger they were in.
That eye... that dark eye, just as black as its claws, staring at him, unblinking. Its brow furrowed into a deep frown, felt just as much as seen because Luke still had his finger on its empty eye. The lips peeled back into a furious snarl, revealing far more teeth than Tim's little prodding stick could manage, teeth that were coated in a slick layer of saliva, teeth that were bigger than Dad's fingers, teeth that could take your head off with a single bite...
That did it. That finally broke the paralysis. Luke jumped up, but it felt like he was moving at a snail's pace, as if the air around him had turned into water and he had to fight with everything he had just to break the surface. "Tiiiiim!!"
"Wha - ?"
"Get back! Ruuun!"
Timothy must have seen something in his big twin's face, because he didn't question him for even a second. He turned tail and ran immediately, with Luke right behi -
That's when Luke felt the Wolf's claws clamp around his wrist, its grip like iron, stopping him dead in his tracks. He pulled and thrashed like a rabbit caught in a trap, but it was useless.
"Luke!" Tim yelled, starting back.
"No! Get Dad! Hurry!"
"But you -"
"Get Dad!" Luke shouted at the top of his lungs, but Timothy didn't move. He stood there, rooted to the spot, staring with wide eyes at whatever was happening at the end of Luke's arm, something Luke himself didn't have the courage to do just yet. "I said run, you idiot!"
Still nothing. He was either too scared to move, or he didn't want to leave his brother behind. A moot point, since Luke knew there was no way he'd be able to fetch Dad in time. He just wanted his little bro to get out of here before -
Growling, deep and guttural, rising up from the ground, perhaps rising up from death itself.
Luke twisted around, still trying to get free, but what he saw made his attempts seem even more futile.
The Wolf was getting up! It was only up on one knee so far, but it was already taller than he was!
Luke doubled his efforts, pulling back as hard as he could, digging his heels into the dirt, but it didn't make a lick of difference. The Wolf just squeezed him tighter until it felt like it would crush his wrist between its fingers.
With full-blown panic raging throughout his body, Luke realized that his premonition was coming true before his very eyes, with only one minor difference. It wasn't happening to his little brother.
It was happening to him.
The Wolf staggered as it put its weight down on its stump of a right leg, but that was all. It didn't even cry out! It just kept rising and rising to impossible heights, going up and up, looming over him until its head blocked out the sun, covering him with its shadow. Luke could still see the sun's rays shine through its fur along the edges, lining it with silver spikes, like a thundercloud ready to unleash a volley of lightning upon those unlucky enough to be caught outside in its presence.
Luke tried one last time to break free of this thing's grasp. He wrenched his arm back, pulling with all his might, backpedalling for all he was worth.
It didn't have the desired effect.
One moment he was fighting for survival, every muscle in his body working furiously, the next his feet weren't even touching the ground anymore.
This was impossible. Even as the Wolf lifted him up off the ground, Luke refused to believe that something like this could be happening to him. He could hear Tim screaming somewhere, and even that seemed unreal to his ears.
This must be a dream. He must have fallen asleep by the river. That's the only logical explanation. Luke tried desperately to convince himself of this, but dreams don't dig into your wrists with massive black claws. Dreams don't pull you up by the arm until it feels like the whole thing is about to break off. Dreams don't terrify you this much without letting you wake up!
"No!" Luke yelled, his wild thrashing succeeding only in swinging his body back and forth, making his shoulder throb. And he was still rising! Up and up, past the Wolf's chest, its neck, its massive jaws lined with all those killer teeth, up until they were eye to eye.
Luke stopped struggling. He was too scared to do anything other than stare back into the face of this horror.
Even though its right eye was empty, the lid was still working. It opened and closed along with its brother, but Luke could now see there was something terribly wrong. There was a hole at the bottom of that empty socket, a slit of blackness in the red. This Wolf must be in an unimaginable amount of pain, but it acted as if it didn't even realize it was injured.
Or maybe it simply didn't care.
It pulled Luke closer until they were almost close enough to kiss. He could feel its foul breath pass between its jagged teeth, blowing all over his face, reeking of rotting meat and stagnant water. A line of drool hung from its bottom lip, vibrating with each exhale.
It looked at Luke with its good eye and said, "Who... are you?"
Luke knew that Wolves must be able to talk from what Tim had said about Uncle Jon's letter, but to hear it address him like this still came as a shock.
"M-My name is Luke," he said, hoping to the gods that this was the same Wolf that had fixed his uncle's wagon. "W-What's your name?"
The question sounded ridiculous, but he didn't know what else to say.
"My name!?" the Wolf thundered, making Luke cringe. It sounded enraged by the very idea that he would dare ask such a question.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"
"My name..."
"Please let me go!"
"... Is..."
"Please!"
"BANNO!!"
This is it. Luke knew he was about to die. This Wolf was going to lunge forward and bite his face clean off. It would tear him open and then it would go after Tim and do the same. He would listen to the cries of his little twin as the river carried his blood away in red tendrils. They would both die out here in the sunshine. They would both die screaming in pain...
The Wolf came closer, its cavernous maw the last thing Luke would ever see. Its eye... glassy and unfocussed?
The Wolf kept coming, angling over him, pitching forward. Luke suddenly realized it was falling! It was going to fall right on top of -
"Ooof!" All the air rushed out of Luke's lungs as the Wolf crashed down on his body, pinning him down with its immense weight.
"Luke!" Tim screamed.
Luke gasped for breath, his chest barely able to rise under the crushing pressure. What the hell just happened!? Did it... die?
No, he could still feel it breathing on him, blowing hot air against his neck. He turned his head (just about the only part of him not pinned down) and checked its face.
Its eyes were closed.
This Wolf... this giant monster of a thing...
It was stone-cold unconscious. Maybe all those injuries were too much after all?
Luke craned his neck back and got a good upside-down view of his little bro, standing there with his tail between his legs and tears streaming from his eyes.
"Um, Tim?" Luke said. "For all the gods' sakes... Go get Dad! Now!!"
This is the end of Chapter 2! Woohoo!
I'd like to thank everybody who took the time to comment, fave, rate, and donate. I do all of this for you.
But now I've got some news which might not go over so well. I have been updating "Ander" for about six months non-stop now, and I'm feeling a bit burned out. That's why I've decided to take a few days off to recharge my creative batteries (and by "recharge," I actually mean consuming an unhealthy amount of ostrich biltong [it's kinda like jerky, but all Africany] while alternating between zoning out in front of South Park and blowing up trolls in Skyrim). But not to worry! I expect I'll go back to writing by Wednesday. Or possibly Thursday. Surely no later than next Monday, I assure you. >.>
Okay, now for the really bad news. Most of you probably don't realize this, but I used to be quite a ways ahead of you all when it came to this story. I call this my "buffer zone" and it acted like a safety net. It allowed me to look "into the future" so to speak, and tweak the things I've already written, but haven't uploaded yet, in order to enhance the quality and immersion. When I first started out, some of my updates were only a few hundred words long. But, as my small fanbase started to grow and more and more people started leaving wonderful comments, I began to feel like anything below 1000 words would be a bit of a jip, so I steadily increased my output until, eventually, I began to upload my story faster than I could write it.
My buffer zone is gone now, reduced to zero pages. I know this will piss some of you off, and even worse, it will disappoint others, but I'm afraid I can't upload the next instalments of Ander's story until my buffer zone has been repaired. I'll keep you all up to speed with this "loading screen."
Buffering: 100%
I hope you can understand. I'll work as hard as I can to resume updates as quickly as possible (once my batteries are "recharged" of course).
Thanks again for all your support. It really means a lot to me.
If you enjoy my story, please help keep my face un-mauled by irritable ostriches by dropping me a donation. Thank you! ^_^
Paypal: [email protected]
Donation Progress $34.34 / $100 (Unlock Sunday update)
First: https://www.sofurry.com/view/517235
Previous: https://www.sofurry.com/view/582553
Next: https://www.sofurry.com/view/657679
How and Why: The Story behind "Ander" (Journal): https://www.sofurry.com/view/517234
Special thanks go out to the following furs for helping me keep this project afloat with their generous donations. I couldn't do it without your support.
- The mystery fur strikes again with a second donation! If you'd like to be credited, drop me a PM with your username. :3
- PyrePup has also donated twice.
- KmlRock
Thank you! You guys are the best! ^_^