Field Of The Doves. Chapter 1; Part 1/4

    As we had walked through the garden in the twilight hour when both Sun and Moon glowed in the sky, a long moment of silence had been the kick I needed to ask the question, “…So, leaving the villages is evil, and it’ll never be okay for me come with you?”
There was no response from Rocco. Did he pause to think for an answer? I waited politely, and then waited some more until it became clear that an answer was not coming - almost as if he hadn’t heard me. But out here in the corn field one was inclined to notice even the smallest sound.

    A corn stalk snapped in my hand with the slightest pressure, producing a cracking sound that nearly echoed in the otherwise empty void that the two of us shared.
The mid aged man with a head shaved to the scalp, marched on ahead of me with the same undeterred, unconscious stride he must have developed while trekking a nearly unimaginable distances between our southern villages and the ‘other places’ - while I was stuck in tow of his footsteps, brooding over the most shameful kind of response one could receive, which was none at all.
         Finally with eyes trained on his back and the loudest voice my adolescent frame could manage, I added, “you can leave but I can’t – is it because my parents weren’t ‘normal’?”
         Slowing his stride until he moved no more, leg bent while suspended in the air, a delayed step that a moment later found its hesitant place in an earth that was still moist from last night’s rain, Rocco turned his head, two fingers twisting a red furry mustache, and a surprisingly amused smile on his lips.
         “That may be a part of the reason, one of many, Koda. You’d have to see the world to understand why there’s a danger in bringing any part of it back home, and why your violent father and … illusive … mother, makes you one of the less desirable candidates.”
{indent“T’wasn’t my fault I was born to them. What of Demi, gentle as spring grass and yet she’s an outsider. What parents did she come from? If she’d been fathered from the stiff antenna of a deranged rott-wood beetle…”, I paused only to take in a deep breath before blurting out, “…we’d never be of the wiser!”
         My step uncle only shook his head at me. We continued our stroll and soon the corn thinned out to weeds and bushes. Nearly at the animal’s Den now and wind upon our backs there would be no element of surprise; already a few long howls filled the air, little sharp claws scratched wood while the door jostled on its slider with the weight of pressing bodies.  The combined strength of Rocco and my own feeble arms slid it loose slowly. Tied with thin rope on my waistband was a stick dipped in layers of tar, wax, and tree bark that had smeared on my shirt. I would have a fine time trying to clean it later as, motherless as I was - new clothes did not come often.
         A strike of flint on the door from Rocco’s hand; once, twice, then on the third time the flame blazed brightly into being.
“Let me hold that while you tend to them devilish ones. As usual it appears that your presence has been sorely missed here.”
“They always do.” I said quietly.
         Once inside the barn I walked along the wall, my hand sliding upon the waxed mahogany wood. At the other end was the gate that kept in the Luupin at night, preventing them from raiding gardens, eating neighbor’s pets, babies, small children, or other random generally inedible objects that any other mammal would never dream to put into its mouth, let alone swallow.
         The Den was the largest by far in our village, and I had been told by others that it greater than Den’s in other villages as well. It was a part of my family’s heritage – from my mother’s side, and I felt a deep kinship with the Luupin. Them and I were the last survivors of our line. Step-uncle didn’t count. He only took care of me these years because he was as outcast as I, even as a Councilor.
         This led me to wonder, “What of the other villages, Uncle - why do they speak differently than we do, and wouldn’t it be better if we all spoke the same language and lived together in one big village?”
         At this he groaned, “Asking me won’t change anything so there’s no good in knowing. Your pups are hungry, Koda.”
It was true, at least in the case of the runt of the litter who had pushed her way to the front. Little Eri poked her head up through the gaps to quietly gaze with enormous blue eyes and pupils at a slit. The torch was much brighter than the nocturnal hunter was comfortable too.
         With a ‘click’ the gate opened. I reached in to pull her to me while caught completely unprepared for the barrage of eager tongues. Ranging from wet to rough, attached to my face and nearly removing the upper layer of flesh as sturdy teeth yanked on clothing and fingers, flanking paws pushed from behind, and even an adventurous one with shaky knees dared brave the heights of my back. To the delight and sound of Rocco’s laughter I stumbled over my feet and warm bodies to fall forward and be consumed in a furious tide.
         The mother sat away from us, a ray of moonlight from the great windows emphasizing a reddish brown stripe on her back as she watched the human pup wrestle with her many.  In the winter season each pup grew to the size of a year old bear, knocking me around as a plaything, or nearly, a chew toy.
         Rocco had climbed the ladder to the rafters as I remained on the ground struggling. Only when the radish shaped fruits rained down did they finally let me go.
         “Just you see – here in a few years they’ll be even bigger, and have greater appetites. Making a beast wait to feed only tempts it to explore what you taste like.”
         “They would never eat me! By the time you come back from your next trip, I’ll know them better than anybody.”
“I don’t doubt that, not completely. I’ll be going to bed now. A storm’s coming in and it’s going to be brutal. Make your runs short. Don’t go far.” Rocco said, hanging the torch up to a holster on the far end of the wall, were it would least disturb the pups.
         After he was gone I sat down and tried to place Eli in my lap. Though now she was getting too big and had to set her paws on my shoulders, head towering above my own.
         “Seems like everyone’s taller than me.” I said as she barked in agreement, “Shush you.”
         My hands touched upon the hardened shell of Eli’s head. It was ivory white and strong like the hoof of an angry Elephant Caboose. The fur of her back was stiffer than bristles of an iron brush, enough so that if I were to pet her from the other direction there will be little of my hand left afterwards. At least her paws were gentle as they kneaded at the fabric on my chest with round black stubs, too dull for clinging upon or ripping apart – though did help resist sliding while adding traction when at a full run.
         Eli was the rare pup of the litter. While the other brothers and sisters had curved black claws digging deep into the earth when the mouth latched on to its favorite prey - the Elephant Caboose, in a death grip as others in the pack climbed upon it’s back to eat the flesh. After much struggling, either throat would be ripped open or spine be severed.
         My runt on the other hand preferred Tusked Elk. With her slender body she could move fast and silently – smashing head on into the otherwise indestructible tusks - shattering them through to the skull in which pure force would knock the beast unconscious as the Luupin unhurriedly dispatched its life.
         When the full onset of night came, temperatures dropping to its coldest I dressed in the thickest gear I had and prepared the anxious pack to be let out. The first obstacle would be the door which appeared to be stronger and more resilient than myself. At first it refused to budge completely, and then finally after much straining on my part to the point of dizziness did it open an elbow’s length. Wide enough for Eli to come ramming the side with her might. The door banged open with such force the whole structure of the Den rocked on its own foundations.
         “My pups certainly not a baby anymore.” I mumbled to myself, butt-numb from the impact of falling and eyes wide as they took in the damage of a metal door bent crooked. It would never shut again.
         Before long, spurred on by the cold trying to settle under my skin, I had the eight Luupin hooked up to harnesses that pulled the sled. Eli was at the front leading, it would be she who led the pack, with her mother and strongest pup at the very end while the others pulled in front with their curved nails and strong back.
         “Ha!” I shouted.
         The sled lurched forward on the slick, slightly iced dirt ground. Over the next 40 miles moving my weight at nearly top speed would be effortless to them, it became easier for them with every passing month. Soon I would not need a sled and could ride on the shoulders of my beloved Eli.