Cerestial: A Brief Beginning

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The Wolf Pack

Sunday 22nd March 2020

 

The dark grey cloud of smoke slowly filtered from the small gaps of Devin’s lips as he leant forward on his motorbike handles, his nails and rings clinking off the metal as he absentmindedly splayed his fingers up and down in a wave-like motion. Now disinterested, the finished cigarette was dropped to the ground and crushed under his leather boot. The wild soul had been the second, amazingly, to turn up with his usual biker crew to the large forest clearing with lush green grass that rolled down a slope until breaking into dark brown, murky sand that led into the cold waters of a vast lake.

The area was known as the Sunder Forest and was considered home for The Wolf Pack of the Grand City. It was a private, expansive forest with a few lodges scattered throughout the clearings and lakesides, and had belonged to the Drew family for generations. It had only been yesterday that a blonde elf had been brought to the largest house in the forest, disturbing the peace of the pack once more, this time with the extremity of the situation.
But Devin just loved to ruffle up the fur of the man he’d been absentmindedly staring at for the past ten minutes, who was very much in an enraged pace with a stream of curses being flung at the young troublemaker. Of course, Devin had his own reasons for bringing Ceres Briel into the area, but this had just turned into a very entertaining side effect.

The broad male with silvery hair that ran thick and to the nape of his neck in braids snarled as he turned back to face the younger and smug wolf, his saffron eyes vehement as the wild sneer only increased at the sight of Devin’s smirk growing. Both Wolves in the clearing were amongst two small groups of people who were very obviously leaning in agreement with one of the other. Devin had his group of troublemakers and young upstarts behind him and the older Wolf had a small band of what Devin considered, adults, as they were all in their early thirties.
The man’s large canines, one of which notably cracked in half, soon became visible as he took a threatening stance towards the boy sat still on his Harley Davidson,
“Devin Drew, are you not going to answer?!” He snapped, the low guttural growl of his wolf-self leaking into his words, “We’re used to you bringing people to our grounds, but this time you bring an Elf..?! A Briel at that, what did you even want from it?!”

Devin this time failed to keep his quiet, self-satisfied chuckle to himself as he rose from the seat of his bike, “Tsavo, I wanted a new experience,” He stated, taking a slow step towards the male. This small step caused the small group behind him to quickly lean into attention, each pair of eyes gleaming in anticipation. They could sense the exhilarating growing tension between the two now their Leader was stepping up to face the older Wolf.
“And you see,” Devin continued, his wide tongue lapping over his lower lip, “I got it, and it was delicious…” He purred.

Tsavo took a sudden step closer again, turning his nose up slightly at the young wolf, “You risked the pack for a playdate?!” He demanded, “Then you cut the hair of a noble Elf, who do you think they are going to blame?!”

“Nothing is fair in love and war, Old-timer,” Devin snickered, slowly cracking the knuckles of his fingers on his right hand with the use of his thumb, “Whatever blame they lay is going to be exciting, right? Though I have a feeling the snooty old Court is going to have their hands full with that one, I know I did,” He chortled, looking back at the gang who laughed along with him in response, causing the Pride in his chest to only burn more violent.

That’s when Tsavo’s hand snapped in, grabbing at the collar of Devin’s leather jacket and pulling him in, glaring down into his confident and not at all threatened expression, “You’re a disgrace.”

“I’ve been called worse,”

“You know, Devin-“

“Yeah, shit-face?”

“Your parents would be disappointed,” Tsavo hissed between gritted canines.
Like the passing of a dark cloud over a bright sun, Devin’s yellow eyes darkened immeasurably as the smile on his lips slowly fell into a dark sneer. His voice which was previously upbeat and know-it-all had now deepened into a foreboding, low growl,
“You don’t get to say what they would have thought,” He warned, his eyebrows furrowing his gaze into a dagger-like glare.

“I’m the one who knew them best, punk,” Tsavo whispered, “You were just a pup and in my opinion—“

“Don’t fucking say it…”

“You don’t deserve to be a Drew.”

In the blink of an eye, before the older wolf could react, a harsh, ring-clad right fist connected in a harsh punch, hard enough to cause the older Wolf to catapult backwards and to the ground near the suddenly alert and snarling group of mature Wolves. As he hit the ground, the man skidded for a second before his powerful body twisted with the momentum.
Twisted, Twisted-!

In a thrashing of limbs, the tough leather jacket had been thrown off and to the side, as now the man in front of Devin began to transform. It was a sight the young wolf was used to, but it always spelt out trouble.
This was fine, Devin lived for trouble.


The Younger wolf shook his fist out as he took a couple of steps back, his yellow eyes blinding as his pupils shrank, his own leather jacket being slid off and tossed back towards his own group of upstarts as he watched the man before him violently reach out his hands towards Devin. Bones cracked, split and changed in formation with sick snaps. Clothes ripped into tattered as muscles built and swelled, and what was previously medium length grey hair was now pushing out into a thick pelt of silvery fur that covered the man’s large and now canine body.



Ace of Prince

#330 in Fantasy
#165 in Short stories

Story about: selfdiscovery, mythical beings

Edited: 28.07.2019

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