literature

DotW | Enzo | Valda Kellot

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Literature Text

"Valda Kellot"
"Valda watches"
Word count: 1040
+1 Bone for Enzo

As quiet as the night usually was, Enzo’s head was singing. He had tried everything to calm it down, to think about the black behind his eyelids so that he could just sleep. It did not work. There was nothing he could do that would lull him to unconsciousness. It wasn’t necessarily bad things, either. His brain was just ticking over time, wandering, pondering, sometimes even about things he hadn’t thought of in years.

Finally, he surrendered to the urge to get up, and he slunk from the den, leaving his two sleeping girls to rest. Outside, a cool breeze washed over the valley, sounding a slight whistle through the trees. Enzo took a deep breath before looking to the horizon. Dawn would be soon, he’d have to make this quick.

Not every wolf would agree with his method of tiring himself out, but there was nothing else he could think of that would work. He couldn’t force himself to sleep, he couldn’t count sheep, he couldn’t drink herbal water. No, the only thing that worked was hunting. Hunting, to him, was like therapy. It was the doorway to serenity, the only doorway he needed right now. So, he set off, nose to the ground and tail high like a sail on a ship. It took a shockingly little amount of time for him to find a trail. This trail, he knew instantly, belonged to a deer- his favorite thing to catch. They were nimble, agile, keen on their feet, and so whenever Enzo was able to successfully catch one, he felt proud in himself. They were not the easiest prey.

It had taken him months to be able to hunt deer again after the incident with his daughter. He had grown a fear of them, one which he did not care to admit to anyone- besides his mate, whom he would tell everything. He could clearly remember how frustrated he had been that whenever he would be inches from bringing a doe down, flashbacks would hit him fair in the eyes and he would lose his prey because of a panic attack. It was not a good time for him, but luckily, with Embla’s help, he overcame the fear, and now he was here, hunting them down like he did so well.

With the moon creeping toward the ground, Enzo picked up his pace. He wanted to be back to hopefully get some sleep before dawn, and so Embla did not wake up with a cold spot by her side instead of him. He knew she would worry. Luckily for him, the deer was now in sight. He crouched low, belly nearly scraping the leaves beneath him. His eyes were narrow, beaming through the dark, set only on the prey grazing at the grass naively. He crept closer, every footfall calculated meticulously. Even with the dead leaves beneath his paws, he was silent. A mere shadow jumping from tree to tree, and nothing more.

He always pounced when he was at least 10 meters away, no more, no less, and it worked every time. Once he hit that mark that he knew so well, he transformed- a still breeze to a hurricane. Motion exploded from every joint, every pore, as he emerged from his cover and began to pursue the doe. At this point he didn’t think of anything else, all of his adrenaline was coursing to one point; the ground before each step. If he focused it anywhere else he would surely lose his course and therefore lose the catch.

It was ironic, actually, that the one thing he could do to fall asleep was also the one thing that needed so much adrenaline from him. It was like an addiction to him, the chase, the catch, the kill, he couldn’t think of anything else in his life that gave him this incredible amount of freedom. He was so caught up in how joyful he felt, he didn’t notice that the deer had made a sudden turn into a thicket. He followed as swiftly as he could, but it was especially difficult to keep up with his fur getting caught on every branch and thorn he passed. The deer began to cry as it began to get tangled up, its legs flailing and pushing as hard as they could to get it through to the other side.

These brambles felt as though they stretched on forever, and Enzo was wondering whether this chase was even worth it. But with the deer so close, just out of reach, the dark wolf was too tempted to move on. Finally, after what felt like literal hours, Enzo was close enough to touch the tawny pelt of his prey. But just as he did, the deer- and he- stumbled out of the entwined nest of branches, out into a clearing. He stood up, looking around at where he’d landed. The deer was gone, but before him, a shadowy figure, its limbs wavering, a smokey substance dancing from its back into the air.

”Valda.”

It spoke no words, but it began to circle Enzo. Enzo watched it closely, his eyes holding apprehension. But behind them, he was concerned. He had seen her- this version of her while Pet was being born. That was the first thing on his mind. He didn’t have any time to ask before she pounced at him. His mind went blank, but flashes of terror, blood, death, Embla and Pet’s faces, flew across the blackness. He tried to scream but nothing came out, he couldn’t see anything but these images, over and over again until finally.

He opened his eyes. He was back in the den. Embla and Pet were sleeping, but the sun was nearly fully risen. Enzo’s hackles were up, as he looked around for the black fox again. There was nothing, just the sound of birds chirping as Embla began to stir awake. He didn’t know whether to tell her what had happened; would she think it was just a bad dream? Or would it worry her more than Enzo cared for? For now, he kept it to himself, at least until he could find the words to tell her.


:icondomain-of-the-wolf:
+1 Bone for Enzo
1040 words

Summary: Basically Enzo has a bad dream- or a premonition- served to him by the ever lovely valda- the REAL Valda. Which also gets him thinking about this physical Valda that's plaguing Fellfang. Why doesn't she look like she did when Enzo saw her while Pet was being born? Perhaps not to scare everyone, or perhaps its something else. 
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Ramala's avatar
I love this. <3 So well done.