Vigil

One must tread very carefully into the forests of the Wesen mountains. The wolves held no love for outsiders, and getting lost in the harsh climate meant a lonely death by freezing. Body encased in snow and ice until thawed by the sun's kiss, whenever it deigned to shine. If it deigned to shine. But no place is more dangerous than the temperate-weathered forests. Not quite in the upper regions of the mountain, not completely at the very bottom.

The forests were green and lush with only the barest hint of snow dusting the top of the thick canopy. Aromatic and colourful flowers grew amongst the brush. And it is here, in this gentle forest, must one be at their most guarded.

The Wesen herbalist, Kahel, lives in a cave flanked by two weeping trees, their leaves like drapes that hung over the entrance to her den. A den that held herbs of every kind, the rarest medicines said to cure any illness, miracle salves that could close the worst of wounds in an instant. And of course, Kahel herself. Sharp as a whip and twice as deadly. Prominent fangs jutting from her mouth, always curled in a loose smile. A visage that invoked terror rather than compassion, a temperament built for war and not healing.

But it isn't her that one must watch out for.

Kahel was formidable, true. But she was slight; among all the Wesen wolves, she was the smallest. And despite it all, Kahel would rather not get her muzzle dirty. Why do any of the work when her beloved guardian was nearby? Her sentinel, her watcher, her champion.

Herbalists have always been highly sought after and protected. Not every wolf has the skill needed to identify boneset from yarrow and even fewer have the talent like Kahel does. To find herbs even in the dead of winter, to use a dying plant as though it were plucked yesterday, to cultivate her own blossoming garden.

Wesen protect their own, and Sibyl made damn sure no one would take Kahel away from the pack.

And so came Vigil, though he was Akbal first. Akbal the wanderer, the nomad, the father-killer. A wolf of almost herculean size, dwarfing Mallus, and even the Black Beast's impressive stature. Beside him, Kahel looked mouselike for when Akbal sat, he was tall enough to stare the gangly two-legged creatures that occasionally wandered their lands in the eye. Thick muscle was well-hidden beneath a coarse coat of fur that made him look even bigger than he already did. At a far enough distance, most couldn't tell Akbal from a bear.

The name Vigil came much later, given to him by the wolf he had pledged himself to protect, and the one who so effortlessly stole his heart. He had been named so after one full moon night, when Kahel lay fast asleep in her den, and an intruder managed to slip past the pack's defenses with the intention of spiriting her away to serve as herbalist for his own pack.

Akbal had kept watch through the night. Silently. Without so much as twitching a single muscle. Without so much as a breath. When the would-be abductor approached Kahel's den, Akbal had leapt down from his overlook and brought the intruder a swift end. Morning rose on bloodied grass and a stilled wolf with a missing throat.

Vigil came was born then, for his watch through the night.

The need for guards surrounding Kahel dwindled to nothing after that. Where she goes, he follows. And when he isn't by her side, he's scouting the area a mere call away, looking for threats before they even get a chance to come close. No wolf Sibyl employed could have ever come close to the almost devoted protection Akbal gave. That Vigil gave.

Sometimes, he wondered if Kahel would have still given him a name had she known that he already possessed one. More often, he wondered if he would let her do it anyway. And even rarer did he think to himself on the darkest of nights, when the stars don't shine and the moon remained hidden behind the clouds, if he would have liked her to know his name.

Not that he could ever say it.

His voice had died long ago. Father's last gift to him. Not even the barest whisper could leave him now. Akbal will die without anyone ever knowing his name. The mere thought that even in his death, his father still managed to steal yet another thing from him made his blood boil and his lips peel back into a vicious snarl.

A squirrel he didn't even notice whined and scrambled back up to its tree mere seconds before Kahel sank her claws into the ground where it stood. A litter of fallen leaves were disturbed by her failed attempt to grab a snack, sending debris into the air. A single leaf landed on Kahel's nose and she angrily batted it away. "Nice, Vigil. You owe me dinner."

Akbal stared her down. "What?" Kahel protested. "You do! That squirrel would never have gotten away if you didn't snarl at it."

Keeping his eyes locked on her, Akbal took a running leap at the tree, breaking eye contact for just a moment to snatch the escaped squirrel that thought it could take refuge on a low branch. It gave a single squeak before falling limp and silent in Akbal's mouth. When he landed, he took extra care to crash into a pile of dead leaves at just the right angle to send even more leaves raining around Kahel. The big bad wolf with fangs that could easily rip throats yelps when a tiny worm landed on her paw. Akbal's shoulders trembled from laughter, even if he didn't make a sound.

"I never should have healed you," Kahel muttered balefully. She looked like she was almost pouting. Eventually, Akbal tossed her the squirrel and even though Kahel complained about him "showing off" to no end, she still snapped the tiny critter in her jaws and had herself a snack.

When they first ventured into the less traveled parts of the forest, it was noon. The sun was high in the sky and even in the mountains, the air took on a humid, heavy quality. It was dusk now, shadows began to creep at the corners and the frigid temperatures for which the Wesen Mountains were notorious for began to colour their breath. Puffs of air came from Akbal as he laughed at Kahel's unexpected bout of immaturity.

They should head back. If they wait too long, the frost would take hold and they might not find their way through the forest at all. Akbal gestured to the trail they came from. "Just a few more minutes," Kahel insisted, as though she hadn't said that a few more minutes ago. "I haven't found fenugreek herbs yet. I need those."

In his time as Kahel's keeper and bodyguard, Akbal had never even heard her mention fenugreek before. Before today, he didn't even know it existed. Or that she needed it. Kahel was certainly never silent about what she wanted. Many a time had she sent Akbal out scouring for a specific herb in the middle of the night for an urgent cure the pack needed.

But, necessary cure or not, Kahel could not stay out here. Let Akbal search for it, if he must, but she needed to return home. He gestured again to the trail. When Kahel ignored him, Akbal snapped his teeth at her. She snapped back, her teeth just barely nicking the side of Akbal's muzzle. But she relented. Not happily, of course, but Kahel did turn around with a scowl on her face and an edge in every step.

Akbal followed behind her at a safe distance. A gust of wind swept by, bitter cold. Even with the warmth of his fur Akbal could feel the sting. Kahel outright shivered, her steps faltering just for a moment as her entire body seized with cold. Akbal caught up to her easily, and walked beside her. She practically sank into his fur.

Without needing her to say it, Akbal quickly dropped down and carried Kahel onto his back so she could focus less on walking, and more on staying warm. A warm sigh was his reward, breathed into the scruff of his neck as Kahel happily sheltered herself from the wind. They might have a storm tonight. If Akbal hurried back for Kahel to tell him what fenugreek looked like, he might have just enough time to find a few without freezing to death.

He sped up his gait and almost missed Kahel's mutterings in the process. "The fenugreek was for you." Akbal twitched his ear, an acknowledgement that he heard her, that he was waiting for her to continue. Kahel scoffed, one of her paws brushed against Akbal's throat, lightly tracing the scars of a bite mark. "Supposed to help with damaged voices."

Akbal almost tripped. Kahel nipped him in the ear for almost letting her fall to the ground. "Should I make a cure for weak legs too?" Akbal swatted her backside with his tail. Kahel nipped him again. "Here I wanted to help you." She huffed and tucked her head in, probably about to sleep the entire walk back to her den. "Shouldn't have bothered."

Within minutes, Kahel was snoring against his back. Akbal walked contemplatively the entire way home. He hadn't thought about his voice in a long time. Any of the herbalists he'd gone to in the past all said that it was impossible for him to regain it, that it was lost forever. If anyone could do what no other herbalist can, though, it was Kahel. The possibility of having his voice back sent a thrum of giddiness reverberating through him. There was no sound, of course, but in her sleep, Kahel giggled a little as she felt the rumble in Akbal's chest.

Maybe he'd get to tell her his name after all.