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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/687751-Chapter-Four
by Kier
Rated: 13+ · Book · Fantasy · #1633700
A rough draft of a fantasy work - new perspective on were-creatures and human relations
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#687751 added February 17, 2010 at 4:57am
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Chapter Four
Back at Rylan's home, the girls were in the yard, sitting on the ground and twisting long pieces of grass into braids, laughing at each other and throwing handfuls of grass at each other. Vala smiled to see such innocent play, such as she had not seen in a very long time, and she realized that she had squeezed Rylan's hand, which she was still holding. He cast a shy grin at her, dropped her hand, and strode toward the young girls, falling on one knee with his arms outstretched.

         “Come here, my dears!” he exclaimed laughingly as Storme stood up eagerly and Selda threw her last handful of grass at her before they ran to his arms, flinging their own around his neck and kissing him on the cheek.

         “Good morning!” Selda spouted bubbly, and her sister repeated her, their voices even almost identical to each other.

         “I want you to spend some time with the Lady Vala today, wouldn't that be fun?”

         They glanced up at Vala, yellow-green eyes wide and faces curious, and Vala smiled at them softly to reassure them.

         “I will save you,” she vowed to herself. Their innocence was overwhelming, their young lives just starting – they deserved more than what they would get if she could not help them.

         “Yes, Rylan,” they said almost in unison.

         He nodded and stood up, pushing them gently toward Vala, his hands on their shoulders. “Go on now,” he said. “She won't hurt you.”

         Vala's smile widened, though she did not show her teeth. “Yes, come along, dears. We'll go for a lovely walk, and we'll take Ember along with us.”

         She reached out her arms, offering a pale hand to each girl, and they, after glancing at her hand and up at her and back at her hand, accepted, their small hands clinging tightly to her own. She cast a glance over her shoulder, smiled at Rylan, and said, “Come, Ember. Come along, girl.”

         Ember loped over, ears pricked up in slight confusion at hearing someone other than her master call her, and she looked back at Rylan for approval.

         “Go on, Ember.” He laughed at his dog as she wriggled her body with enthusiasm, barked twice, and then bounced after the departing females.


                                                           *          *          *

         In another abode, similar to Rylan's as were most of the constructions in the clan's settlement, Blaine, a were-bear, was shaking out his limbs as he prepared to face the day.

(Wednesday, November 4, 2009)

         As he strode to outside of his home, he was presently joined by a red fox, which slunk through the shadows of the house with hesitation and caution, its ash (?) colored fur ruffled slightly by the faint breeze.

         Blaine grinned, revealing his pointed teeth, and greeted the fox. “Good morning, Carlyle.”

         The fox drew its black lips back in an expression that resembled a grin and also bared his curved, white teeth, and then, the fox stepped back, its fur thinning as its limbs lengthened and repositioned themselves in an image of painful but smooth transformation. In its place now stood a lanky, skinny man with wavy red-brown hair and twinkling brown eyes.

         “Morning, Blaine,” he said cheerfully, yawning after he did so and once again revealing his set of canine-like fangs.

         “You devil, you. What are you doing around here, causing trouble this early?” growled Blaine playfully in his deep voice, crossing his arms over his broad chest and staring down at his smaller, lithe companion.

         “What?” pouted Carlyle, his mouth turned into a pout though the brightness of his eyes still gave him away. “Can't a friend stop by to say good morning to another friend?”

         “A friend can indeed do that, but you only come around for two reasons. You either want breakfast, or you've got some gossip to dish out.”

         Carlyle threw his hands up in surrender. “Alright, you've caught me. I do in fact have some gossip you might find, ah, interesting at the very least.”

         Blaine narrowed his dark eyes at him under his black eyebrows. “What?” he drawled cautiously, his tone gravely and almost menacing.

         Stepping backward out of the reach of Blaine's long, powerful arms, Carlyle began, “Well, it's about your wonderful lady, Vala.”

         “What about her?” Blaine cracked his knuckles against his palm.

         “Well, if you were wondering where your vixen has disappeared to, she spent the night in that lowlife Rylan's home last night and is there to this very moment.”

         A snarl tore through the air, and Blaine lunged forward with Carlyle throwing his body against his friend's massive chest.

         “Hold up, Blaine. Hold up. You can't just go bloody the Priest's face.”

         Blaine grasped his small friend by the shoulders, lifted him with ease from the ground, and set him aside, lunging forward another step before he halted, turned around and stared Carlyle down with venom coating his dark eyes.

         “You're right,” he admitted, his shoulders slumping and the muscles in his neck relaxing. “I can't. I'll wait  to speak to Vala, and if I don't by the end of the night, I'll make a decision then.”

         He cracked the knuckles of his other hand against his palm, his and Carlyle's eyes locking in a stare of understanding.
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