Writing Contest! (ANNOUNCED WINNERS)

Reserving this post. This is amazing!!

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1486 words

    Blood painted the forest floor. The moon cast a pale glow between rustling branches. La’ruk breathed in, slowly, deeply.

    Time-worn trees and thick undergrowth surrounded a small clearing. A body lay in the center, its fur indistinguishable from the blood; its scent was drowned out by the stench of bodily fluids.

    “Hmm,” La’ruk hummed, approaching the body. He thrust his snout into the wolf’s pelt, prodding until he found a heartbeat. Assessing the area, a list ran through his head: Shelter, herbs, food. There wasn’t much time.

    Sunlight seeped into the cave. A crevice of rock in an ocean of foliage. Perfect for resting. La’ruk sat in the entrance, yawning. How long had it been since he’d slept?

    The smell of meat in the air tempted him, but he resisted.

    The wolf behind him grumbled. Over his shoulder, La’ruk scanned their brownish-gray coat, so dissimilar from his own black fur.

    “I’m alive?” the younger canine blurted, his masculine voice cracking. La’ruk watched as he ran his tongue along the wounds and flinched. 

    “You mustn’t wash the salves away,” La’ruk said. “You’d invite infection.”

    The licking ceased. “Thank you. My name’s Kintenook. Or Ten for short.”

    After introducing himself, La’ruk pointed his nose at the doe carcass in the corner of the cave. “You eat first. Take your fill.”

    “Are you sure? You’re the one who healed me. Plus, you’re, you know… older.”

    When he didn’t receive a reply, Kintenook stood and padded over to the meat. He dug in without further hesitation.

    Excellent, La’ruk thought. Fatten yourself up. You’ll need the strength.

    Between bites, Kintenook told his story: “In my pack, when two wolves reach the age of majority, they must fight. The winner stays. The loser is left and forgotten and...

    “My brother was stronger. I loved him, but…” he trailed off. “Do you have a pack?”

    “I do,” La’ruk said. “We do not abandon our own. There is honor among us.”

    “Why are you alone?”

    “I am on a rite of passage,” he said. “I must return with someone bright and powerful, like yourself.”

    “Me?” Kintenook cocked his head to the side. “I would’ve died if not for you. My own brother bested me in battle.”

    “There is no way to determine the accuracy of that statement,” La’ruk said. “You must be strong, or you would not have survived. The salves I used do not produce miracles. Your brother may have more prowess in battle, but that does not make you weak.”

    Kintenook slid down, resting his chin on his paws. 

    La’ruk stiffened, forcing the fur on his neck to lie flat. Failure is not an option, he reminded himself. He repeated a prayer in his head: Unity, lend me strength such that I may fulfill Your wish.

    Weeks passed. Wherever La’ruk went, Kintenook followed. He talked endlessly and asked too many questions. The older wolf answered those he could stand and ignored the rest.

 They packed on considerable weight: The young one proved to be a skilled hunter, and La’ruk detested waste. 

At night, La’ruk prayed until sleep enveloped him. His dreams were dark and calming, full of whispers and bright eyes glinting in dark meadows. 

    One rainy morning, after a pleasant dream, La’ruk padded through a dull forest, Kintenook’s breath on his tail. They were up to their bellies in runny mud. 

    May You hear me and grant me safe passage through this land, La’ruk thought. I will return to You soon.

    “Who does your pack worship?” Kintenook’s teeth chattered. It seemed he was used to lighter weather conditions. Still, he hadn’t uttered a single complaint.

    “We have one God. He is called Unity, for He brought us together.”

    “I see. My pack has--err, had?--multiple Gods controlling our lives: everything from fertility to storms.”

    La’ruk glared at him, a growl rumbling in his throat. “Unity does not control anything. He guides and protects us so long as we follow the rules.”

    Whimpering, Kintenook bowed his head. He shifted, before finally asking, “What are the rules?”

    “I am not allowed to discuss that with an outsider.”

    Kintenook’s whiskers twitched, but he did not voice the questions clearly burning his tongue.

    The following days were uncharacteristically quiet. Kintenook picked at his meals until La’ruk pressured him into eating more. 

    “Have you prayed to your Gods?” La’ruk asked between bites of a buck.

    “Not since my exile.”

    “You mentioned that They are in control of your lives. Do you ever see Them? Speak to Them?”

    Kintenook’s ears flattened. He stared at the ground. “Not once. Some wolves claim to have spoken to one God or another, but they’re brushed off as dreams or stories.”

    “Unity frequents us in our dreams. He joins us for ceremonies.” 

    “What does He look like?”

    La’ruk stood and stretched, leaving the rest of the meat for his companion. “I cannot share that.”

    “If I were to join your pack, could I see Him?”

    “Of course.”

    “I’ve been thinking about it a lot. I don’t think I’m strong enough to make it on my own,” Kintenook said. “Would you honor me by bringing me into your pack?”

    La’ruk rested his chin atop Kintenook’s head. “You are strong. You survived an attack from one of your own and kept going. You do not gripe when most wolves would give up, and you are open-minded and inquisitive. Do not underestimate yourself.

    “Kintenook, my pack would be glad to have you.”

    The new recruit’s curiosity in the following days was unbridled. La’ruk didn’t let irritation bleed into his voice or choice of words. It boiled just under the surface.

    The sun reached its peak as they traveled alongside a river; Kintenook splashed in and out of the water, his voice rising over the current.

    But La’ruk pretended to not hear him. His mind flooded with thoughts of home: Had his mate waited for him? Were his brothers alive? Had Unity spoken to the pack since his departure?

    The black wolf shook his coat and snorted. “Let’s go,” he said, breaking into a run. 

    Kintenook sprang out of the river, dashing to catch up. “What does your home look like?”

    “Long grasses and vibrant flowers--more colors than you have seen in your life.”

    “Race me,” Kintenook said, sprinting ahead. 

    La’ruk growled. He would not lose a race.

    They burst out of the tree line. 

    Kintenook scrambled to a stop, eyes wide; ahead of him, La’ruk slowed.

    Twenty-odd wolves, engaged in conversation and eating, stopped and stared, eyes glinting. Their shadows stretched beneath them in the setting sun.

    “La’ruk!” Shi’ri called, headbutting him. “My love, you return.”

    “Brother,” Tel’nun dipped his head. His gaze flicked to Kintenook. “Welcome.”

    One by one, the pack approached, sniffing the newcomer. Kintenook introduced himself. Many bared their teeth, but La’ruk told him not to mind them. 

    “Tonight you will meet Unity.”

    Kintenook barked and ran in circles. 

    “For now, get some rest.”

    The moon cast a sickly light over the plains. Kintenook had promised La’ruk silence on their way to Unity. Though the atmosphere didn’t invoke any pleasant topics, he didn’t quite understand why he had to be quiet.

    Ahead, the Dynasty Forest loomed. La’ruk had explained every death in the pack brought a new tree, courtesy of Unity. There were easily thousands of dark, scrawny trees.

    Kintenook’s fur bristled. Why did his stomach ache?

    As they came upon a divide in the forest, he fought the urge to vomit. It was as though the trees were tossed aside like rotten carcasses. 

    The ground rumbled; pebbles rolled and small creatures ran away from the forest, away from the wolves.

    La’ruk bowed, his nose pressed to the ground. He snarled at Kintenook until he followed suit.

    Unity crept through the bisection with legs far thicker than the trunks they traversed. His thorny claws sliced through branches. Black saliva oozed from His mouth, coalescing into a pool that stained rocks and dissolved grass. Burning white eyes contrasted an onyx body. 

    Whimpering, the young wolf tucked his tail.

    “You have completed your mission,” Unity said. 

    The deity rested His chin atop La’ruk’s head, sending him convulsing to the ground. 

    “You are my vassal now, and the leader of the pack,” Unity said. “I have granted you powers to assist in your work.” He pulled away.

    Still shaking, La’ruk got to his paws and howled. As the call grew stronger and steadier, so did Kintenook’s sense of dread. Mind gripped by terror, he stood stiller than he thought possible. 

    The wolves of Unity’s pack, of La’ruk’s pack, heard the signal. Their howls sounded in the distance. 

    Kintenook hadn’t moved, as though frozen in place by their God. Not that Unity would do such a thing. That would be far too boring for His tastes. La’ruk turned towards the plains and waited.

    When the pack reached them, barking and snapping at the air, La’ruk said, “Tonight, we will feast.”

    He looked at Kintenook. “Run.”

The Skárzgould

This is my entry for the contest I hope you enjoy it!

Contest Entry

Close to 1.4k words and hopefully is not to similar to other entries!

Reserving me  a spot. I'll for sure be working on this over the weekend!

EDIT: Took longer than I thought it would, but here it be! The Forest's Secret

Keeping Secret Until The Last Day! heheheehe ^-^

reserving a spot! Xy that prompt is hella cool 👀

here's my story!

EDIT: Accidentally edited past end time, so I did my best to bring it back to what it was originally (I only had to change a couple sentences). I understand if I'm disqualified because of that. 

The Blood of a Stone

Gaze glued to the ground, the tall wolf drew his claw across a stone. “We need to talk about your son."

“This isn’t the time, Boulder.” Venom laced Oakan’s voice.

“There’s something wrong with him and you know it."

Oakan took a step forward, flexing his claws, and a spark of fear flashed through the larger male's eyes. “Before you say anything stupid, I want you to know that Twig is not a monster.”

“I-I never said he was.” 

“Good.” Muscles rippling beneath his fawn pelt, Oakan brushed past the taller wolf. “Then I’ll be going now.” With that, he stalked back to the camp, leaving Boulder spluttering in his wake. 

“Birch?” He nudged her - no response. Oakan tried again. “Come on, Birch. You’ve been laying there since sunrise.”

The she-wolf stirred, ruffling her auburn coat. She lay at the base of a den, her golden eyes fixed on the sleeping mass of dark fur inside. “Shhh,” she said. “Twig’s resting."

"We should take a walk together. It's been a while."

           Birch cocked her head, and it hit Oakan how little he recognized her - her matted pelt, weary eyes, lowered tail. "I have to stay here to watch him." 

           "He's ten months old. He's old enough to look after himself."  Oakan couldn't hide the twinge of frustration in his voice. 

           Something shifted in Birch's expression. "What if something bad happens?" 

           "It won't."

           Inside the den, the dark mass lifted its head. Was it just Oakan, or had his son gotten bigger? "Leave me alone," Twig said, his voice a low rumble. 

         Oakan shuddered, a familiar sense of unease washing over him. It's normal for you to be nervous, Birch had said. Every new father is.  But he wasn't a new father anymore. Ten months had passed and it still hadn't gone away.

          "I promise it won't be for long," he said, turning back to Birch.

           The she-wolf looked as if she still wanted to object. But instead she mumbled, "Fine," and climbed to her feet. 

         The cool breeze tingled Oakan's frame as he tilted his muzzle to the sky, sniffing the air. He made out the lingering scent of rabbit somewhere off in the distance. 

       Birch looped between the trees, her gaze focused on something only she could see. Dead leaves crunched beneath her paws. 

       "This is nice, isn't it?" Oakan brushed up against Birch's flank. 

        "I guess so." The she-wolf's voice sounded far-away. She stopped. "Do you think he's okay?" 

       Oakan didn't have to ask who she was referring to. "I'm sure he's doing fine." Of course Twig is fine, he thought with a twinge of annoyance. He's not a pup anymore.

        A sigh escaped Birch's lips. "You're right," she said. "It's just so stressful. Every time I look away from him, I get this feeling like something terrible's going to happen." Birch swung a paw at a pebble, sending it skipping along the forest floor.  They watched as it disappeared into the underbrush.    

       "Try to think of something to take your mind off him." Oakan scanned the scenery. "That cloud looks kind of like a headless squirrel." 

         Birch glanced upward, the sunlight glinting off her amber eyes. She laughed, and Oakan realized just how long it had been since he'd heard her laugh. "Where did you get headless squirrel?"

          "I don't know. You think of something better." He rubbed against her playfully, tussling her russet-colored pelt.

         "They're clouds, idiot. They aren't supposed to look like anything."

       For a moment, everything felt right. For a moment, Oakan could pretend that nothing had changed; that they were just two young wolves in love, without a care in the world. 

       Then a yelp of pain tore through the forest.  And, in the blink of an eye, Oakan came crashing back to reality. 

            Back at camp, a clump of wolves greeted them, fear-scent wavering in the air. Oakan shoved past his packmates to get to the center of the commotion, his heart pounding in his ear. 

            Lying in the center of the camp was Boulder, his left ear torn and bleeding. "He attacked me!" The male's indignant howl rang through the clearing as Boulder stumbled to his feet. "That monster attacked me." 

            A wave of dread crashed over Oakan.

           "He didn't mean to!" It was Birch, curled protectively around her dark-furred son. Twig towered far above his mother's head, his pearly fangs barred. He'd grown larger, now nearly three times an average wolf's size instead of two. Birch swiveled to face her mate. "This was all your fault," she spat. "I should never have left him alone." 

              A murmur rippled through the crowd of wolves. "Your son is a danger to us all," somebody said. 

              Birch's eyes were wide. "You can't possibly be thinking…"

              Throughout his sentencing, the young wolf remained silent, his gaze trailing over the bickering packmates as if he were surveying his prey. 

             "Boulder is right." Paws trembling, Oakan stepped forwards. "Twig attacked an innocent wolf without warning. He has no place in this pack." 

            Birch froze, her jaw agape. "Oakan-" she started, then stopped abruptly. The she-wolf's gaze hardened. "Traitor." The word slipped from her mouth as if it were poison dripping off her tongue. 

           "Birch, please, just listen to me." A pang of regret clawed at Oakan's chest. He opened his muzzle to say more; to say something; to say anything, but his pleas were interrupted by a gruff bark. 

            "Where did the monster go?" 

            It took a second for the meaning of the words to sink into Oakan's skull. But sure enough, when he looked up, Twig had vanished. 

              Birch swiveled. "H-he's gone. How could he have gotten away?" Panic creased her face. "We have to find him." Lowering her nose to the dirt, she sniffed at the grass with a frantic passion. "I think I picked up his scent."

            "Wait!" Oakan made to hold her back, but it was too late. The she-wolf had already slipped into the forest. Casting a glance over his shoulder, Oakan hesitated, his heart pounding in his chest. A hush had fallen over his packmates, not even Boulder daring to speak as they eyed each other uneasily. Sucking in a breath, Oakan turned wordlessly and sprinted after his mate. 

            A soft breeze whistled through the trees as Oakan tore through the underbrush. "Birch?" he said to the darkening sky. No answer greeted him but the moaning of the wind. The moon cast its dim glow along the forest floor, faintly illuminating the trampled glass beneath Oakan's paws. He stopped, panting heavily, before trying again. "Birch?"

             More silence. 

             Neither she nor Twig could've gotten far, Oakan reassured himself. 

             A branch cracked. Oakan's head snapped to the source of the noise. "Birch, is that you?" 

            "Get away." A growl rumbled in the she-wolf's throat as her silhouette emerged from the darkness. "He doesn't want to see you." 

            "Twig? You found him?" A chill raced down Oakan's spine as he sniffed the air.

            "I said get away." 

            An ear-splitted crack echoed through the forest. Then another. As more cracks followed, it sounded as though the trees themselves were breaking, their trunks curving beneath the weight of something terrifyingly large. 

            "What's happening?" Oakan dug his claws into the earth. 

            From within the thicket of trees, a pair of glowing eyes appeared. A yelp escaped Oakan's throat, the earth trembling as the creature slunk closer. The monster was not standing on the ground, but suspended among the oaks, its huge paws curled around the trunks. As it drew nearer, its features became more pronounced: Its canine-like face. Its pointed jaws. 

            "Twig!" Birch sprinted towards the dark mass. "I was so worried about you." 

            From somewhere, Oakan found his voice. "That isn't our son." 

            If Birch heard her mate, she didn't show it. "I've missed you," she murmured as she wandered towards the clearing's edge. "You've grown so much bigger, haven't you? And stronger, too." 

            The creature growled. 

            Oakan's fur stood on end. "Get back," he said  loudly - too loudly. The monster averted its yellow gaze from Birch to him, its jaw tightening as its eyes full upon Oakan's flesh. He froze. 

            Birch swiveled to face Oakan as well, and as she did so, her lips curled into a snarl. “Why should I listen to you? You betrayed your own son. Your own family.” She spat at the ground in disgust. “You’re no mate of mine.” 

As a wave of despair crashed over Oakan, he found the beast’s looming shadow growing larger. The monster towered above him, anger burning in its yellow eyes. Its pearly canines glinted in the moonlight. A jagged claw whizzed through the air.

And then the world went dark.

My entry here!  1468 words total. 

The Shepherd. 

I've never been the best author, as I'm more of a visual artist than a writer, but I always enjoy writing when I get around to it.

I hope you enjoy my story, linked here (Google Doc)!

Good luck everyone! :D

:quietly reserves a spot because it gives me an excuse to write and write tension and im such a slut for that: