The Trial

“The most important part of every Stonecreek wolf's life is to pass the Trial.”

It’s a phrase Shikoba finds himself echoing a lot, something other wolves have also told him, and the more it’s repeated, the more nervous he’s beginning to feel. He understands that this is his initiation into the pack and he’s confidence that fate will guide him, but it’s already past noon and he can’t seem to find himself a trophy to present just yet.

His paws are used to rough stones, but his mind isn’t keen on the clutter of rocks. They arch high over his head, higher than the wispy trees of the land, towers of superiority to remind him he’s merely a visitor to this vast land The Earth Mother has blessed them with.

“If I were a fate influencing creature, where would I be?” He asks himself quietly, small talk to keep himself from getting too overwhelmed by the long shadows the rocks have. Shikoba’s tail brushes over thick grass, several crickets springing away, bouncing into the dense part of the ‘forest.’ Calling the gathering of trees up here is a joke, the structures of Sharp Stones are the true forest, not the foliage. Shikoba decides to follow the crickets, who chirp loudly in alarm to one another, fleeing giant paws that could possibly crush them.

Silly crickets, that’s not his goal here. His goal is to discover a creature that seems so beckon him forward, to chase and earn the reward, not cheat himself an early return to the pack.

The cream wolf traverses over the rough terrain with ease, the crumbling of stones certainly making things alarming, but his eyes dart from stone to stone, confirming the safe route across the steep edge he finds himself wandering along. The clouds catch his eyes, causing Shikoba to halt, lavender eyes fixating on puff of pinks hovering over distant mountains. “Nearly dusk.” he comments, situating himself on a rock, tail sweeping behind him in a lazy wag. This isn’t the time to sight see, he’s very aware of that, but the vibrant colors of the sky are worth viewing if it means he’s already failed. He’s got until the sun entirely vanishes, he assumes, that would count as evening being his reason time’s up in The Trial.

“Patiently.” He tells himself, wind whisking through feathery fur, “Your sister was the one to rush ahead, you’re the older brother here.” He’s got no one to confide in, he hardly knows the faces of StoneCreek yet, he can’t help but dwell on his sister even if the past is to be left behind. If he fails, he fails, but wandering aimlessly won’t aid him anymore than sitting here.

Peaceful, he’s not used to it. This land feels comfortable, fresh, it doesn’t hold paranoia and tension like living out on his own did. Here feels like the gentle flow of the river, something to coax life along, not the twist and turns the rapids bring. Ah, while he’s clueless to the disarray this land will be forced into in the upcoming moon, it’s clear skies for now, and he will cherish that.

He cherishes this chance, he just wishes it wasn’t seen as a failure in the eyes of others.

There’s a shrill squeal in the stones behind him, Shikoba jumps up, pulse racing in his ears. There, that’s it. It’s echo calls him, it guides him to race through rows of stone, an invitation to catch his destiny. The canine spins around quickly, the sunset bathing the land in a warm hue, casting out his shadow before him like an arrow to victory.

It’s a hare, it has to be, nothing would cry out so helplessly like that. Is that a trophy? Will his chief be proud of him? He’s so dull, so bland, a wolf of little interest - does he truly deserve a spot in a pack full of the most noble wolves he’s met?

Despite the flash of insecurities causing him to fumble, Shikoba recovers and races forward, leaping over large stones and traversing through nooks, scent of the hare far too strong. The sun is lowering fast, but he’s confident his paws can carry him faster.

There, it’s there, a body far smaller than his own, racing through the same maze he is. Jaws snap, nearly catching the hare, but a sudden gust of wind pushes the creature over and he misses completely. His claws skid loudly on stone, it’s such a rush to stop himself and turn around in order to pursue the hare, only just now processing the creature didn’t fall; it was pushed.

Gaze snapping towards the sky, he sees feathers of ivory and chestnut fan out against a violet sky, and he’s pushing himself off the ground to soar with them.

Shikoba isn’t sure what pushed him to go for the owl, the hare was helplessly writhing on the ground to try and find its footing to escape, much easier prey than that of the bird swooping in for a kill. But his paws moved before he could think and he was leaping towards the cotton candy clouds, triumphantly gasping as his teeth sunk into plush feathers. A squeal, not that of the rabbit, but the owl, concludes his fate.

Shikoba lands hard on the stones below, airy fur fanning out just like the owl’s wings as its accepts it can’t escape the jaws of the wolf. He pants hard, as best as he can with the trophy clamped in his mouth. Feathers line the ground, some in his fur, some still fluttering in the air, giving him a moment of grandeur before realizing that he shouldn’t drabble further than he has already.

Bright feathers contrast sharply against his fur, even bathed in the royal purple hue of the land, as a trophy should. He can’t wait to tell the stars about his victory tonight in hopes his sibling is looking at the same array of constellations as he is. He soon learns that it won’t be hard to cherish this new family of his, not when he’s got so many wolves to learn from.