
Not bothering with useless protests or questions, Oriah set her sights on the tree the hunter had assigned her and focused on nothing else but climbing it. She pushed out all other concerns from her mind, one by one, and hoisted herself onto the lowest branch. Climb, climb, climb! the squire chanted, trying her best not to think about how soon the wolf behind them must be finished with its rodent meal.
If there was anything the desert taught her, it was balance. That, for every act of expanded awareness, there was a counter act for single minded determination. To learn not only how to pay attention to all life that dwelled within the forest or to cancel out everything except survival, but when as well, was as crucial a skill as any.
And to know that for every life taken, another might continue to live.
Oriah's heart felt the old, ghostly pang of grief. Priah. Then she let it sink back into the inky depths of obscurity, settling herself onto a branch high enough to be out of reach of claws and teeth. The squire watched their shaggy predator with anxious eyes. Muzzle covered in blood, the wolf licked its maw a few times before raising its head and staring up at the trees with steady, yellow eyes.
So, it knew they were there. Back propped against gnarled bark, Oriah pulled an arrow from her quiver and knocked it with slow, careful movements. She tried to ignore the wild thumping of her heart and clammy, shaking hands. I don't want to kill you, the girl confessed in her mind. She wasn't even entirely sure she could kill the wolf from this distance. But she knew she had to try, should it boil down to "him or us." And if more showed up, those would have to die as well.
The squire's arms quivered. She realized her conscience was rebelling, despising such thoughts. Despising herself. It was true, that the wolves would kill and eat them without hesitation in a time of such scarce food and harsh conditions. But she had a warm bed and hot food to return to; they did not. She had been blessed to be born with the ability to choose between right and wrong, to dance and sing, to worship her god and live life as she believed it ought to be lived. But wolves were wolves; they killed to live, and nothing more. And, feral as they were, they had a pack to think of as well. For a moment, Oriah wondered if they ever felt similar hesitance. What if one of them was a Kelvic, somewhere out there? Did they have such thoughts? Did they care at all, or had they abandoned their humanity long, long ago?
She was at the brink of lowering her weapon, will all but dissipated, when more rustling sounded nearby. Stifling a gasp, Oriah tightened her grip once more, eyes glued to the scene below her. She counted the bodies as they emerged. One, two, three...four...
Her heart sank. So many. Five wolves. Five hungry, muscled, whip fast beasts with claws and teeth sharp enough to tear out their throats. She and the Eth hunter were safe up in the trees, for now. But they could not stay there forever. Eventually, they needed to come down.
And when they did, the inevitable would come to greet them.
But, what was this? Something...strange was happening. At least it appeared so, to the squire's novice eyes. Instead of greeting his pack, as she'd expected him to, the mangy wolf lowered its ears and slunk back a little.
Thunk. One of the wolves--the alpha, it seemed, as it was much larger and weathered looking than the rest--tossed something beside the chewed up rabbit. Oriah's eyes widened in recognition. It was the deer head Medhozic had thrown into the trees at the beginning of their skinning and butchering. The first wolf looked at it longingly but made no move to feast on it, not even a sniff or lick to taste it. With what seemed very much like a look of disdain, the alpha huffed and bent to tear a sizable chunk before guzzling it down.
The others followed, but not First Wolf. He stared at them forlornly for a bit, and now that there were others to compare him to, Oriah noted he seemed much thinner and more ragged then his peers. Or perhaps they weren't his peers...?
Her guess was confirmed when First Wolf inched forward. Just one paw in front of the other, accompanied by a pitiful whimper. The Alpha snapped up and snarled viciously. His pack followed suit and kept it up until First Wolf bowed out completely to scamper away. An exile, Oriah realized. Packless, family-less. A literal lone wolf left to fend for itself.
Satisfied, the pack returned to feasting on their meager meal. It wasn't long before they finished--even what was left of the rabbit as well--and sat on their haunches, engaged in a bit of post-dinner grooming.
By then, the Benshira had long since lowered her weapon and arrow. It didn't seem as though the other wolves knew or cared of their presence. Perhaps, if they stayed up here long enough, the beasts would simply leave and they would be free to go.
Watching with bated breath, Oriah kept as still as quiet as she could, grateful for her companion's foresight. She kept up a state of alertness, ready to follow the Eth's suit if he deemed the situation safe enough to descend back to.