Heights

Once upon a time, while the snowflakes fluttered down to the earth, a small group of kids wandered into the forest. The group consisted of three brothers; Rùa, Éan, and Ulf. The eldest, Rùa, was forty seasons old; the middle child, Éan, was twenty eight seasons; and the youngest, Ulf, was celebrating his coming of age - his twentieth season. To celebrate, the elder brothers dragged him deep into the forest, coated in white.

“Where are we going, mhac?” Whined the youngest one, voice meek.

“To celebrate!” Enthused Rùa, leading Ulf around the maze-like forest by the hand. Éan was following behind them. “We are going to teach you how to hunt!”

“That way you won’t embarrass yourself in front of daid.” Spoke Éan, arms crossed over his chest. Ulf was initially confused, but just nodded, going along with his brothers. It was winter, it meant that most of the animals were hibernating by now. There was nothing to be seen except the color white, the dead trees, and the three brothers, leaving behind their footprints on the snow as they walked. After some searching, Rùa’s ear twitched at the sound of leaves rustling. “Shh!” He looking around, searching for what might have made that noise, the other two looking as well - though, Ulf had no idea what it is exactly that they were searching for. “Look!” He whispered to Ulf, pointing over to a bush. “A squirrel. Go get it.”

Go get it? Ulf stared at the little creature, shaking his head as he cling to his brother. “No… No. Don’t wanna.” He whined, not wanting to harm the little animal. “Just go!” Hissed Rùa, shoving the youngest one over to the squirrel. Ulf stumbled forward, the squirrel getting startled and running away. The little one froze, unsure of what to do. It ran away. But before he could give up, he could hear his brothers hissing at him to just go. Follow it, said his instincts, and just like that his little feet began to run until he reached a dead end. A tree. “I- It climbed…” He pouted, turning to his brothers for guidance, but all they did was give him a look that just screamed the obvious. Climb it. So he did. It was hard. He fell a couple of times off the trunk, and he could hear the laughing of his brothers and he swore he could even hear the squirrel laugh. And after a few tries, he did it! He managed to reach the thickest branch, where the squirrel was at. “Got’cha!” He beamed, crawling on the branch, closer and closer as he tried to close the distance with the animal. But, what he did not know, is that the squirrel is far more agile and knowledgeable than him. What Ulf thought was victory for he cornered it, the squirrel seemed it as a win.

The more it backed away from the little feral child, the thinner the branch got. And once the end was met, Ulf smiled and giggled, launching forward to catch it. The squirrel evaded this quickly as he jumped to another branch from a nearby tree before a snap could be heard. “Huh?” Wondered the young boy as he gripped onto the wood, feeling as though the tree is tilting. The scenery underneath him got closer and closer until he finally hit the ground.

“Ulf!” Yelled his two brothers, running from where they were over to the child laying on the cold snow. He had landed on his right side, his back facing the brothers that approached him. “Are you okay?” Asked one, before Ulf broke into tears. His loud crying made the other two press their hands against their ears to muffle out his cry of pain. Éan turned to Rùa and leaned closer, “I’m getting mam and daid!” He yelled before running away from the scene, leaving Rùa alone with his crying brother.

Not long after, Éan comes back with a woman, her gasp echoing in the empty forest. “Ulf…!” She rushed over before kneeling down beside him. She gently scooped him up, helping him stand up. He was a mess. A couple of cuts from having hit many branches on his way down, sticks and leaves tangled in his hair and… a swollen wrist. She cupped his cheeks in her hands and gave him little kisses on his tear stained face, his crying diminishing a bit. “What happened? What did you two make him do?” She finally asked once the youngest one had calmed down, turning over to glare at the two eldest brothers.

“W- We didn’t do anything, mam! It’s not our fault he’s stupid and can’t hunt!” Said Rùa, his hands playing with the fur garment around his waist.

“We just took him to teach him before daid does, and he was stupid and fell off the tree.” Elaborated Éan.

The she-wolf gave them both a good, long and scary stare as if intimidating them to say the truth, but was brought back to Ulf who had spoke up.

“Mam… I- It hurts…” He sniffled, not even daring to move his right arm. The woman just looked at him warmly, stroking his disheveled hair. “We’ll have Ágnes do something about it… Now, come on.” She stood up, scooping him up into her arms - though, he did wince and protest a lot. She gave one last look at her two eldest sons before turning around, walking back to the pack with her three children.

Upon arrival, Rùa and Éan scurried off to hide as their mother rushed over to Ágnes, an elderly she wolf that was very much knowledgeable with herbs and the like. Not exactly a healer, but is the closest thing they have to one. “Ágnes, are you here?” Asked the mother as she entered a tent, made of animal hide that seemed to be sewn in together in patchwork. The inside framing was made of wood and fibrous string, the ones that are going horizontally having little bunches of greens tied to them.

“Ah, Saoirse!” Spoke a voice as she entered the tarp, Ulf’s mother - now known as Saoirse - turning around to face the old lady who was holding a bundle of sticks in her scarred arms. Face worn and full of wrinkles and scars, rumors say she had an encounter with a human hunter when she was still a pup. “And the little Ulf…” She reached over and pinched the crying child’s cheeks. “What brings you here, my dear?”

“Ulf fell off a tree and hurt himself.” She explained, holding Ulf’s right arm for Ágnes to see - though, the act made Ulf upset and cry even more. “Stop crying already. Crying doesn’t solve anything, Ulf.” Said Saoirse, letting go of his arm. Though her voice was soft and gentle, you can still tell that that was intended to be a scolding. But, they worked, for a moment. Almost as if his whining and crying didn’t serve as a warning that it hurts, Ágnes also took the chance to look at his arm after setting the sticks on the ground. Her yellow eyes examined the progressively swelling on his wrist, moving his hand up and down - much to Ulf’s dismay, for he was at this point screaming and clinging to his mom with his one arm. The loud whimpers from the inide attracted some children, including the two brothers that had made him climb the tree in the first place, the many curious heads just looking.

“Hmm…” She let go, shuffling to one side of her little home. “It looks like it hurts him more when he moves his arm.” She concluded, looking through her collection of things - taking out some fiber twine and a couple of the sticks she had foraged. “When eldest also had something similar happen to him, but on his leg. That foolish boy…” She grumbled, recalling the memory of her children as she bundled Ulf’s tiny arm with the sticks, weaving the twine in between them and making some sort of makeshift cast.

“What is this for?” Asked Saoirse, looking at the curious contraption that their relative had made on her son’s arm, completely ignoring her crying baby.

“If he wants to heal, he’ll need to not move his arm at all.” Answered the woman, tying it all off with a tight knot.

“But… But it’s almost his coming of age. Lugh will be in charge now-”

“He can’t hunt, much less learn how to control his powers with an injured arm, Saoirse. Speak to your mate about it, don’t be ignorant.” Ágnes signaled towards the exit, “Now leave, I have things to do.” And much like that, Saoirse left the tent without another word, the curious children making a run for it into different directions as she walked out, except for her two sons who trailed behind her.

“What’s wrong with him, mam?” Asked Rùa, looking at his little brother and then to his arm. “Why does he have that?”

“Ágnes said it’ll make him feel better.” She explained, going into their own little tent - much like the other one, it was made of a patchwork of hide and sticks for framing. The ground was covered with fur, bringing some sort of warmth for the family of five. “Don’t take it off, Ulf. I’ll speak to Lugh about your training.” She spoke softly to her youngest, setting him down on the pile of fur.

“B- But I wanted to be a wolf too-” Sniffled out the little one, looking up at his mom with tearful puppy eyes.

“Well, no one told you to climb the tree. Learn from your mistakes and don’t do it again, alright?” She said, patting the boys head before leaving. The two brothers stared at him for a while, curiously poking at his arm before laughing. Ulf could not stand his brothers, they were mean to him. He simply pulled his arm away from them before making himself a little burrow under the furs.

“What a crybaby. I bet even aint’s baby will start hunting before him.”

“Wait ‘til daid comes back, he’ll hate you for good.” After the two brothers finished taunting the little one, they both left the tent to go out and play with their cousins and relatives, while Ulf was just crying in his lonesome underneath the pile.

It felt like an eternity, waiting for his father to come back from their hunting trip outside of the camp’s boundaries and Ulf had spent the whole day inside the little tent. When the day turned into night, and the already cool breeze turned even chillier, Ulf perked up from his spot at the sound of howls, recognizing one of the many. His dad’s back with the rest of the men. On a normal day, this noise would bring about excitement in his mind, where he will rush over to where the men were and greet his father and everyone would feast around a fire. But tonight, that noise was most likely far more scarier than the incident, more painful than the throbbing ache pulsing through his arm. He was all curled up, waiting for his parents to come in, his stomach already preparing itself to be empty for the night.

Voices. Right outside the tent. Ulf’s ears perked up at the sound of his mother’s voice explaining what had happened, to non other than his father. Before she could even finish, the man walked into the tent, looking down at his young son with fearsome eyes. He was… terrifying right now. Ulf used to look up to him, wanting to be just like him, but right now he is cowering in fear. The man’s harsh facial features, his scars, his enraged and disappointed expression. “What did you do?” He asked, voice husky and loud, even without it intenting it to be.

“Like I said--” Said Saoirse, shutting up as a hand was raised to stop her.

“Ulf. I want him to explain.” The little one gulped, hugging his knees with his one good arm. Though he does not know it, his brothers were outside the tent; waiting to be called or to be mentioned.

“Rùa and Éan said they were going to teach me to hunt--” But, before he could even finish - or start - the two that were mentioned barged inside. They were hoping to not have been brought up, but he did anyway.

“We were just trying to help, but he decided to climb a tree to get a dumb squirrel!” Shouted Rùa, “We told him not to but he was really desperate to get that squirrel. Right, Éan?” The middle child nodded in approval, though they both knew that that was not the whole truth.

“Y- You did--”

“We didn’t!”

“You told me to grab it--”

“But you climbed-”

“Enough!!” Yelled the man, interrupting the argument between his two sons. He had such a tired expression, letting out a sigh as he gave all three of his younglings a glare. “All of you are at fault. Rùa and Éan, it was your job to make sure he didn’t get hurt. And Ulf, wolves aren’t built to climb trees. Now, you two, get out.” Like dogs with their tails in between their legs, the two elders walk out of the tent and Ulf was still on the floor as he resisted the urge to cry. Crying solves nothing, he repeated. Though, he got a bit startled when his father knelt down before him, taking a good look at his arm. “... And what do you want me to do, Saoirse?”

“Be gentle with him…?” She suggested, watching the two with slight distance in between.

“Saoirse, are you stupid? He probably won’t even walk when he starts to learn how to control his powers, let alone catch anything. No. I’m not taking him.” Letting go of Ulf’s arm, he stood and turned to his nervous mate. “Until he serves for something, you’ll have to stay with him.” He ordered before leaving the tent, his mood not exactly the best. Saoirse looked just a little bit upset, though she smiled up at Ulf nevertheless.

“Looks like we’ll be together for a while longer, Ulf.” She said, sitting down beside him as she nuzzled his head and gave him smooches. “So get better and so that you can become a strong wolf, okay?” Ulf nodded, accepting his mother’s affection as he clung to her, his face pressed against her chest - her warmth, smooches and nuzzles bringing about a sense of comfort for the petite wolf.