Everything had been planned, but not this. The thought of a wolf pack attacking us had never even crossed my mind. In the first moments, every place turned into a pool of blood, bodies writhing and twitching on the ground, torn hides and tufts of fur scattered around. I started walking through the chaos, keeping my breath steady as I quickly assessed the situation. The traps we had set worked. At least fifteen wolves had leapt onto the sharpened tree trunks and impaled themselves, their bodies broken, their last desperate attempts ending in death. These were only the ones that had fallen, the stragglers of the pack. Around me I saw other bodies, injured people, chunks of flesh soaked with blood, crushed under the chaos. The sight tightened my chest, but my mind was clear. I had to act as a leader.
I stood in the center of everyone, raising my voice so all could hear. They turned to me. "We survived a great and unexpected battle, tonight we will mourn our losses," I said in a calm but commanding tone, "Now I will tell you what must be done. My war chief Cycnopy, take those who cannot fight, from both our tribe and Chief Xeptolyn's tribe, lead them with two of your warriors into my tent, and guard them. My tent is like a fortress, with only one entrance, the door." At my words, the wounded, the elderly, and the children quickly moved toward me. I guided them, helped some with my own hands, and led them into the safety of my tent. They needed shelter, and I would provide it.
I turned back to the others, my voice cutting through the night. "The rest of you, search the area. There may be more. Those without weapons, arm them now!" My commands rang out, and the warriors moved with urgency. I saw Xeptolyn and his people as well, their eyes fixed on me. In them I read fear, but also admiration. They had seen my leadership and strength in battle. That recognition burned in their eyes, and I knew I had left an impression. We began to gather our dead. A heavy silence fell as bodies were lifted from the ground, covered in blood. Fifteen lives had been lost. Speaking the number aloud lowered my head for a moment, the weight of the loss pressing down on me.
The dead were placed to one side, hides laid gently across them as shrouds. Some prayed, others tried to hide their tears. All the survivors gathered in my tent. It was far from the battlefield, safe from the open night. Inside, wounds were being tended, quiet words of comfort exchanged. I lit a fire in the center, letting the flames push back the cold. "Warm yourselves, heal," I told them. With my own hands I served food, passing pieces of meat to trembling fingers. The heat gave brief comfort, and in that moment, even small kindness was a form of strength. To lead was to show both steel and compassion, and tonight I carried both.
I walked to my throne, towering and impressive. It looked almost mythical, with wood rising around it and branches stretching upward. Even I had never seen it in such light, under such weight. Standing before it, I thought of the women who would be honored, and the justice and power it represented. I stood tall, my chest swelling, my voice booming. "Look and see. Only twenty wolves attacked us, and fifteen people died. What if two hundred warriors came against us? What then?" My words echoed through the square, drawing gasps and whispers. Fear shifted in their eyes, replaced by the seriousness of my question.
I delivered my offer, deliberate and bold. "Here is my proposal. Let us unite our villages. All responsibility and authority will be mine. You will eat as you wish, lie with whom you desire, live as you choose, so long as you know your place. What I bring to you is survival, better hunting, stronger defenses, and a life more secure. If you stand with us, I will give you new hope." Faces around me changed, the elders suspicious, the young flashing with light, others torn between despair and longing. I held their gaze, the silence almost louder than words.
Then I softened my voice, lowered my tone, but sharpened the weight of my choice. "We have suffered tonight, and I will give you one day to consider. Speak among yourselves, think carefully. Those who wish to join us will leave everything behind and come. Those who refuse, I wish you luck. You will walk your own path, and no harm will come to you." By offering them choice, I gave them freedom, and I knew true loyalty would only come from willing hearts.
I ordered equipment to be given to them, spears, knives, some rope and pieces of hide. I gave them food, enough for their journey. And finally, a single torch, lit by my own hand. "Take this fire," I said, "carry it to your village, let it live. Use it to warm yourselves, cook, and rest." With this, I dismissed them. They walked away into the dark, me watching their backs. Torches glowed in their hands, their hearts caught between sorrow and newfound trust.
When I returned to the square, the stench of blood lingered, thick and overwhelming. Strangely, a part of me welcomed it. The power, the control, the raw truth of survival, it all stirred something fierce in me. I called Cycnopy and his two warriors before the people. My voice rose like a storm, commanding, undeniable. "If it had not been for our war chief and these two brave warriors, our losses would have been greater. Now it is time for their reward. When you leave this tent, choose any woman you desire, and tonight you will lie with her." My words crashed over them, shocking some, exciting others. The women of the tribe looked eager, proud to be chosen, as if it were an honor. In the aftermath of grief, this was taken as celebration, a relief after the storm.
My tent emptied, people spilling into the night with laughter and hushed words, leaving me alone. I stepped into the dark again, returning to my bison. I refreshed its meal, training it as I had done before, whistling commands, repeating signals. Slowly, it was beginning to understand, to bond with me. This beast would one day be more than an animal. It would be my partner in war.
When I finally entered my tent, fatigue weighed down on me. I longed for the night to end. I lay down and closed my eyes. My dreams filled with visions of a growing tribe, of new ideas being forged, of warriors standing strong and hunts plentiful. And yes, the women, many of them, waiting in my tent in days to come. The thought of that potential, that rising power, made me smile as sleep took me.
Before surrendering to the night completely, I glanced outside. The camp was still, the stars sharp like cold eyes above us. My heart carried grief and hope in equal measure. We had survived this night. Tomorrow would bring new trials, new opportunities. And I, Ragno, Scream Of Fire, would plant the seeds of something greater alongside my tribe.