Thursday Morning September 20th, 546 ALW. Fennur's Heart, North-Eastern Glacial Regions. ….
Konan watched as the blue-eyed people of the caves descended like wolves on their dinner. It was structured and familial. They circled their fire and food in threes. Haurik, Mother, Sulekha and a man and woman sat closest to the fire while a larger number of people sat behind them and then the rest and the dogs behind them.
Most of the younger ones played and danced as they approached their food with dogs and their fellow people.
Some even sang. Most did a little bit of all of it while whispering and sparing glances back at him.
"Nuwetara…" Konan mumbled, "The dream…"
It was just like it. Different but so similar in ways.
Mother turned and looked back to Konan once before speaking to Haurik.
Haurik stood up above the others with a moose-rib in hand, "Cmon, I know your hungry. The body betrays." Haurik rubbed his stomach mockingly. Playfully.
Hesitantly, Konan walked further from the exit back into the cold world and entered the warmth and togetherness of a people.
The group separated and parted for him with many nervously watching. Few happily beckoned him forward while others watched blankly. Impartially. Warily, even.
Eventually he made it to center-circle where he sat beside Haurik and across from Mother, Sulekha and the two others.
"Here." Haurik handed Konan a moose leg, steaming and smelling of the flame and stone it stood over. Other smells entered the air as seasonings and spices were passed and pressed against the meats.
Konan watched it all in silence.
They watched him.
Mother spoke, "My name is Haljaani. But many call me Mother. What is your name?"
"…..Konan."
Everyone waited after he spoke, like they expected more.
"That is all?" Mother questioned.
"...yes." Konan said as he glared at everyone. Nuwetara rested her head on his shoulder in support.
"A lovely name." Mother replied. Then she pointed a long finger across the fire to the man seated next to Konan.
"This is my nephew, Haurik. Many know him as Old Hyena-Wolf." Mother said.
Konan looked over at the man. He nodded at him as he ate. "Nephew…." Konan played around with the word in his mind, "….like kin."
Mother nodded.
Haurik wasn't exceptionally tall like Haljaani. He was actually on the shorter side with the same light-bronze skin and curly hair. His was kept tied down to his scalp in braids while the rest of his hair came in the form of dense jagged sideburns running along his cheeks and jawline. When he smiled, the grey flecked hair bristled. He wore nothing but a leather sleeveless top and pants with a belt that held two daggers.
"As Alpha of the Velka-Nuukari Pack, I welcome you." Haurik said.
"Velka….. Nuukari." Konan repeated the words and their uniquely familiar sound.
In the distance, the winds howled. Literally.
"Howling-Frost Tribe." Konan translated.
Mother and Haurik nodded.
Konan cleared his throat to speak again, the others quieted. Sort of. His mind rambled. He focused on that so he could ignore the eyes of the red haired girl on him. They made his pulse quicken like the Berserkers.
"Other words….. two meanings. Why?" Konan asked unsurely.
Haurik looked to Mother with a confused expression.
Mother didn't seem bothered as she replied, "They're words from a different language, Golden-Child. An old language. The language of your people and our ancestors. It is known as Lycanic. A dead language to many, but the spirits still listen….. and respond."
Konan thought back to the snow and sunlight.
"Where are you from, Konan. You seem young— do you have parents around? A pack?" Haurik asked.
The others listened in more intently then.
Konan didn't think such things about himself. The realization was unsettling. He shook his head. "I am from…..." Konan looked around before shutting his eyes. "Something like…. dreams I think."
A few gasped.
Mother nodded.
The rest were silent.
Konan found himself meeting her eyes again only for her to look away.
"This is Sulekha." Mother introduced the girl seated next to her. "She's a talented healer and holder of Arctic herbs. She treated your wounds to the best of her abilities and without the help of the moon."
Konan looked down at himself— remembering the shots that blew holes in him.
There was no sign of them beyond dark stitchings and scabs circled by inks and symbols.
Konan felt the warmth and smell of spices under sunlight again.
"Thank—"
Footsteps echoed, falling in tandem with animalistic grunts and the smell of death.
Konan stood up and faced the new entrant. All the others went alert as they looked up from their food at him.
All except the dogs. And two boys that wore the same face with different hair. They were covered from head to toe in binding wraps covered in runes.
"All is well, Golden-child." Haljaani said.
"This should be interesting, right Ru!?" The one with a head of wild spiky curls asked as he chomped on frozen berries. He looked up at Konan and smiled. At the same time, sparks of flame and electrical currents popped out of his curls.
The twin shoved him as he kept his head down, "No! It won't be interesting. It could be dangerous, Maka. We stand before a living object of ultimate faith and its most ardent unbeliever. Storms are born from less intense extremes."
"Storms are fun!" Maka mumbled with a wolfish grin.
His twin brother sighed and hugged one of the large dogs closer to himself. He wore his long hair in braids with a fox-hide hood halfway over his head. He pulled it more completely on as the sounds grew closer.
The two spoke at the same time— it was then that Konan realized their eyes were different from the other werewolves. They each had one blue and one silver eye. But when they spoke in unison, their eyes both glimmered silvery-blue.
"Here we go." The twins said the same words but had completely opposing emotions infusing the words.
Konan didn't have much time to process as a shape exited the shadows and stepped into the cave.
He was nearly as tall as Haljaani. But what he lacked in height he made up for in nearly egregious bulk and jagged frame.
On his shoulders, he carried the carcass of a moose and in his left hand, he dragged along a primal looking battle-axe.
His nose was long and crooked. It scrunched up as he scented the air once before going rigid and looking up.
Konan and the new man met eyes.
Or eye.
He only had one eye. The other was a hollowed out dark-hole. A dried out socket surrounded by scar tissue.
A growl escaped his lips.
Konan found himself doing the same as his anxiety rose.
The man wasn't like the Berserkers. He was scarier. He probably felt his pain. And still, he wished to inflict more. In expert ways, if the way he broke Konan down with his eyes said anything.
"Golden-child, this is Berkaal. Also known as The Hollow-Moon. He is our pack vanguard and newest member. Id apologize for his upcoming behavior on his behalf, but I don't like him. Id also advise you stay out of his way, but he'll just get in yours." Mother said.
"Why is that in the Alphas Circle?" Berkaal asked. His voice was hoarse and raw— guttural as if he'd been outside yelling in a warzone for weeks.
"We are among the last known Lycan in five hundred years….. and you're worried about eating tradition?" Haurik asked as he turned around from where he sat.
"Yes! I'm worried about eating tradition among an unknown!" Berkaal threw down his kill so hard it's bones snapped. He stood up straighter then. His muscles bulged beneath his tight black thermal sweater as he shrugged off his white whool cloak stained by blood.
"Only unknown to you." Haljaani said.
"Don't speak to me, zealot!" Berkaal spat, never breaking eye contact with Konan.
"Who would you like to speak to you then? Because the spirits know you don't listen to me." Haurik said.
A couple people laughed.
Berkaal spat on the floor. "The Alpha's Circle is for alphas. The most senior, trusted and powerful of the pack. Parents, leaders, healers. We don't only do this out of tradition, but so the most capable can have the best chance of surviving any poisons or new additives in local fauna made by the scientists and exploring factions of Vampire-kind."
"Yes, thank you for the lesson, Professor Hollow-Moon." Haurik said as he pointed at him with the meatless bone of his meal.
"Where in that does it sound like a being you don't know at all fits? One who is young and afraid…one who isn't worthy." Berkaal asked.
Nuwetara hissed at him then.
"You're the only one here who doesn't know him. We are family. We are kin." Haurik said with a smile, "Isn't that right?" He looked around at everyone.
They nodded.
A few dogs barked.
"Hollow-face! Konan used Beast-Energy to manipulate snow and sunlight! He said this cool sounding ancient Lycanic word like Haljaani, but it moved the world! There was lights and—" Somehow, Maka— the wilder twin, ended up running around Berkaal as he explained the events with wild eyes and fiery curls.
"Stay away, freak-child!" Berkaal swatted at him.
Maka giggled as he flipped out of the way and ended up seated back beside his brother.
"You break your own rules." Berkaal said to Haurik.
"You deny your own existence." Haurik replied casually.
"I embrace reality." Berkaal replied.
"So what now? Will you eat with us? In your corner where you brood and break your bones to suck the marrow? Or—"
"I challenge Konan for his seat at the Alphas Circle. He is both unworthy and a threat to the Howling-Frost Pack— which I have sworn to protect. I won't break this promise." Berkaal said quickly.
Everyone gasped.
Konan's eyes burned gold.
Berkaal remained unshaken as he said to Konan, "I don't believe in fairy tales."