Paths Beyond

This chapter was so fun to make but took me quite a while so I hope you enjoy it. It has exceeded 2600 by just the 3 words, but the editing process took me quite a while.

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"What's going on?" asked Bark with a tremble in his voice.

Keen steadied himself, his knuckles white around the shaft of his spear. "That was no ordinary wolf," he said grimly. "We need to leave. Now. My guess? The creature that drove these two Hooded Horns this far out is the same one we just heard. It must have broken through the barrier from the inner forest." His voice dropped. "If we don't leave everything behind and retreat immediately, we won't make it."

Without hesitation, Keen raised his whistle to his lips and blew three sharp notes, the sound piercing through the frigid air. Moments later, three distant cries echoed back. Keen's shoulders relaxed slightly. Brawl's group had heard the call—they were retreating to the village.

Bark's eyes drifted to the sled. The Hooded Horn carcass lay piled high, a monumental prize. "You can't be serious, Keen," he said, his voice thick with desperation. "Leaving this behind is insane. Do you know how many people this could feed?"

Keen turned to him sharply, his voice hard. "And if we try to haul them both, we'll be killed. Then the village will have nothing. What would happen if three of the best hunters died today? We're not risking this for greed."

Bark's jaw clenched as he struggled against the logic. "I... I can't do it, Keen. My son's naming ceremony is soon. What if this winter is worse than the last? What about the people who rely on us?"

Grey interjected before Keen could answer. "What if we take just one sled?" he suggested. "The wolf's an animal. It won't leave easy prey to chase us down if we're fast enough. Between the three of us, we can carry one Hooded Horn and still get away."

Keen hesitated, glancing between Bark and Grey. After a tense moment, he relented. "Fine. One sled. But we move now."

They quickly secured the smaller of the two Hooded Horns to a sled, tying themselves to it with ropes. The three of them began jogging through the forest, their breaths clouding the cold evening air. The dim light of the setting sun cast long shadows, and the mist rising from the snow made the woods feel like a labyrinth of frost and shadow.

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Far behind the hunters, a colossal wolf prowled through the forest. Its coat was a living shadow, black as obsidian, each strand shimmering faintly under the moonlight like rippling water on a midnight lake. Along its spine, jagged tufts of fur rose and fell with each breath, bristling with latent energy. Golden eyes burned in its face, bright and sharp, but their intensity carried more than hunger—they gleamed with a purpose that surpassed mere survival.

The wolf slowed as it neared its prey. The scent of the dead Hooded Horn filled its nostrils, thick and musky, promising a meal that could sustain even its immense body for days. Yet this was not just another kill. This hunt had driven it far from its territory, across the strange translucent barrier that separated its world from this one. The barrier was no simple obstacle; it had repelled the wolf many times before. For days, it had prowled its edge, observing, analyzing the faint pulses of energy that wove through its translucent surface. When it found the cracks, it had struck with force and precision, tearing through the veil that had long kept it at bay.

Crossing the barrier had been a calculated risk, but one the wolf deemed necessary. Its current form, powerful as it was, had limits. To evolve further—to reach the next stage, where its strength and intelligence would ascend beyond anything it had known—it needed more. The Hooded Horns had been a promising target, each brimming with the kind of essence it required to grow. Their capture and consumption would have been a step forward, an essential link in its chain of progress.

Now, with the prize before it, the wolf lowered its regal head, steam curling from its nostrils as it inhaled deeply. The massive carcass of the Hooded Horn lay still in the snow, its thick pelt crusted with frost. The wolf's sharp claws dug into the ground as it moved closer, its body humming with tension. It opened its jaws, crystalline teeth glinting like frost-covered blades, and prepared to tear into the prize it had pursued for so long.

And then it froze.

A scent struck it, sharp and intoxicating, cutting through the musky staleness of the Hooded Horn. It was faint but unmistakable, like a thread of gold weaving its way through the air. The wolf's jaws snapped shut, inches from the carcass, and it raised its head abruptly, nostrils flaring. It sniffed again, slower this time, processing the layers of scents around it.

There it was again. Something different. Something alive.

The golden glow of its eyes flared brighter, narrowing as it turned its head to the wind. The Hooded Horn no longer mattered. Its energy, though once enticing, now seemed crude—an unpolished stone compared to the brilliance of what lingered in the distance. This new scent was purer, sharper, and richer than anything it had encountered before. It stirred something deeper than hunger. The wolf's tail flicked, its posture shifting from predatory focus to something almost like curiosity.

It took a step back, pacing in a slow circle around the Hooded Horn's body. This new prey was moving, and fast. Its trail was faint, nearly lost in the cold breeze, but the wolf's keen senses honed in on it with ease. It tilted its head slightly, considering. How had it missed this before? Could this energy have been near the barrier all along, hidden under the chaos of the Hooded Horns? The thought unsettled it—a miscalculation, an error in its pursuit. Such lapses could not be allowed if it sought to ascend.

But no matter. What mattered now was that it was close. And it was better.

The wolf crouched low, its black fur rippling like a storm-tossed sea. The faint golden aura surrounding it pulsed faintly, distorting the air and sending small sparks along the ground. Snow hissed and melted around its paws, and the plants beneath withered instantly, as though the land itself recoiled from the wolf's presence. Its claws flexed, digging into the frozen ground as its muscles coiled for a powerful leap.

When it launched forward, it did so with terrifying speed, a blur of shadow streaking through the forest. The Hooded Horn lay forgotten behind it, discarded as if it were little more than an afterthought. Branches snapped, and snow exploded in its wake, but the wolf's focus was absolute.

This was no longer just a hunt. This was a chance for transformation. Evolution. And this new prey, whatever it was, would be his.

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"We're almost there!" Keen panted, his voice tight with exhaustion. "Don't slow down!"

Grey's gaze shifted to the horizon, where the village's wooden wall and pale red glow loomed faintly in the distance. Relief began to bloom in his chest—until he noticed the lights. Specks of yellow flickered into existence around them, glowing faintly in the growing dark.

He froze mid-step, a shiver running down his spine.

"What are you doing, Grey?" Bark shouted. "Keep moving!"

Grey's voice wavered as he pointed to the lights. "It's getting closer."

Keen followed his gaze but saw nothing. "What's getting closer?" he asked.

Grey's mind raced. He thought back to his earlier meditation, remembering the faint flicker of yellow light he had dismissed. Now he understood—those lights weren't random. They marked the presence of living beings, and this yellow light belonged to something far more dangerous than anything he'd ever encountered.

"Get ready," he said softly, his voice steady despite the fear coursing through him.

Keen's eyes narrowed as he studied Grey. The boy wasn't panicking—he was preparing. Keen adjusted his grip on his spear, falling into the familiar role of leader. "Bark, get behind that tree. Grey, climb that one over there. I'll distract it. Bark, aim for its back. Grey, shoot from a distance. Keep it off us long enough to cripple it."

Without hesitation, the three moved into position. Grey scaled a sturdy elm, notching an arrow as he settled into the branches. Keen stood in the clearing, his figure a solitary silhouette against the moonlight.

The wolf arrived like a shadow given life. It was massive, its golden eyes glowing with an unnatural intensity. Keen tightened his grip on his spear, his breath steady.

But through Grey's unique vision, the wolf appeared radiant. Its fur glowed with golden light, sparks of energy dancing across its frame like miniature lightning bolts. Crimson streaks marred its shimmering coat, and the sheer power radiating from it made the air hum with electricity. It was terrifying and magnificent—a creature out of legend.

Keen hurled his spear, but the wolf turned, catching the weapon in its jaws with supernatural reflexes. Bark's spear followed, striking true in the beast's mid-back. The wolf roared, the sound shaking the ground beneath their feet.

It spun, its gaze locking onto Keen. Grey loosed an arrow, striking its nose and forcing it to halt. The wolf's attention snapped upward to the elm where Grey was perched.

"Grey, run!" Keen shouted.

But Grey couldn't move. The wolf's golden gaze bore into him, freezing him in place. He reached for another arrow, but the wolf lunged, its massive body closing the distance in seconds. Bark leapt from his hiding spot, tackling the beast mid-air.

"Grey, get to the village!" Bark yelled, his voice strained as he grappled with the wolf. His hands gripped the spear embedded in its back, but the wolf recovered quickly. Its jaws clamped around Bark's leg, and with a powerful toss of its head, it flung him into a nearby tree. The sickening crack of bone echoed through the forest.

"No!" Keen roared, charging the wolf. He yanked Bark's spear free and drove it into the creature's side, but the wolf barely flinched. Its golden eyes burned with fury as it lashed out, flinging Keen aside with a brutal swipe of its massive paw. Keen hit the ground hard, his body crumpling into the snow. Gritting his teeth, he struggled to push himself up, but his strength was fading rapidly.

The wolf turned back toward Grey, its focus narrowing. It bared its crystalline teeth, the golden glow around its body intensifying as it readied itself for the kill. Grey loosed another arrow, striking the wolf in the eye, but the beast only grew more erratic, sparks of energy cascading across its fur as it thrashed violently.

Grey reached for another arrow, only to find his quiver empty. Panic rose in his chest as the wolf lunged at the tree, snapping its jaws. The force of the impact shook the branches violently, and Grey lost his grip, tumbling into the snow below.

Keen saw it all, his vision swimming as he fought to stay conscious. He reached for his atlatl and spear, but his arms trembled, too weak to throw with any real force. The wolf's immense size and resilience meant it would simply shrug off another attack from him. Keen gritted his teeth, his frustration boiling over as the wolf turned its glowing eyes on Grey and began its charge.

"Grey!" Keen shouted, his voice hoarse but urgent. Summoning every ounce of strength left in his battered body, he raised the atlatl and hurled his spear—not at the wolf, but toward Grey.

The weapon streaked through the air, embedding itself in the snow just within Grey's reach. The young hunter's eyes widened as he saw it. The wolf was nearly upon him, its jaws gaping wide, death mere moments away.

Grey lunged for the spear, snatching it from the snow as the beast descended. With a cry of defiance, he planted his feet and thrust the weapon upward with every ounce of strength he had left.

The spear struck true, piercing the wolf's throat just beneath its jaw. The beast froze mid-lunge, its golden glow flaring one last time. The energy that had coursed through its body began to ripple outward, no longer violent but gentle, like waves on a still pond.

Golden light poured from the wolf's wound, spilling into the air around it in delicate, flowing tendrils. The creature's form shimmered, its fur seeming to dissolve into motes of light that rose into the sky. Its snarls faded into a low, resonant hum, and as its massive body crumbled to the snow, it glowed like a constellation unraveling before their eyes.

Grey stood frozen, the spear still clutched tightly in his trembling hands. His breath came in ragged gasps, but something gnawed at him—something he couldn't ignore. The way the wolf had focused on him, ignoring Keen and Bark even after their attacks... It wasn't random.

It wasn't hunger.

As the last motes of golden light rose into the air, Grey's gaze lingered on the shimmering snow where the wolf had fallen. His hands tightened around the spear as a cold realization settled in his chest. That thing—it had come for him. He didn't know why, but he felt it deep in his bones. The wolf had been after him from the start.

But why?

His thoughts were broken by Keen's hoarse voice. "Grey! Don't just stand there," Keen gasped, pain etched into every word. "Go to the village. Get help. Bring sleds. We need them for Bark, the wolf, and the Hooded Horn."

Grey hesitated for a moment, his grip tightening on the spear. But the urgency in Keen's voice snapped him into motion. He dropped the spear and sprinted toward the village, his heart pounding. The questions would have to wait—there was still too much to do.

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Keen limped to Bark's side. "Come on, say something," he pleaded, his voice breaking.

Bark's eyes fluttered open. "Are you crying, Keen?"

Relief flooded Keen's face. "You idiot," he said, laughing shakily. "You've got some nerve calling me out when you're the one lying here like this."

Bark coughed weakly, managing a faint smirk. "Well, someone had to show you what it's like to take on something bigger than you can handle. Like a real Grand Hunt."

Keen shook his head, his laugh tinged with sadness. "You're unbelievable. Throwing yourself at a beast like that—what were you even thinking?"

"Thinking?" Bark rasped, his grin widening slightly. "I don't bother with that. I just figured you'd screw it up if I didn't."

Keen let out a soft snort, gripping Bark's shoulder tighter. "You're impossible."

Bark's smile faded slightly, his gaze drifting skyward. "You know, I didn't expect to make it this far anyway. After... after she didn't make it, I thought I wouldn't either. That maybe I couldn't handle raising him on my own."

Keen's heart clenched. He didn't need to ask who Bark was talking about—Bark's wife had died giving birth to their son. The loss had nearly broken him, but somehow, he'd carried on. For the boy.

Bark's voice softened further, almost a whisper. "Stone... I think I'll call him Stone. It suits him. Strong like her, but steady enough to outlast anything."

Keen nodded, his throat tight, tears streaming down his face. "It's a good name. A strong one. He'll carry it well."

Bark exhaled deeply, his breath rattling in his chest. The forest fell silent as Keen realized his brother was gone. He gripped Bark's shoulder tightly, his quiet sobs lost in the cold night air.

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I found it difficult to write the scene at the end of the chapter. Making the reader have strong emotions toward a character they barely know is quite difficult, so I decided to keep it simple. I figured adding too much banter would take away from the scene rather than add to it. If you enjoyed please comment, vote/like, and follow.