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- Nov 3, 2021
- Messages
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Rumble, rumble,
Like thunder sounds,
Tumble, tumble,
Run back to town
Slavering, whispering,
Red eyes in the night,
Persisting, insisting,
It feeds on your fright
It comes, it comes,
the crown of the dark,
it's here, it's here,
the shadow's monarch
- A children's tale in Drokai
An uneasy wind passed through the small hamlet of Brakenshire. Nestled among the woods at the foot of a mountain, the winter had been unforgivingly cold this year and food stores had been running low for weeks. The villagers struggled against the frost and hail to gather what little they could to keep their bellies full. Empty bellies and abundant free time had tensions running high; the eerie whistling from the cracks in the walls only served to exacerbate already-high tensions.
"Ma, ma- my belly hurts," grumbled a child. It wasn't the first time the boy had said those words today, nor even this hour. His mother, an aging Rokkr who had seen winters like this time and again, was reaching the limit of her patience. Trade with the other shifters around Brakenshire was always hard, owing to the Rokkr's nature and unusual looks. Her boy, with antler-like horns and bony protrusions on his head and arms, could be mistaken as nothing else.
She sighed heavily.
"Go out and see if you can find something to gab on, then. There's nothing else in here for you today, not with us rationing our stores as we are," she told him.
The command was enough to get the boy's hopes up. He donned a cloak before shifting into his wolf form. His antlers were still prominent, though not as large as they would be once he was fully grown. The protrusions, likewise, were more accent than armor. His mother cracked the door, letting in snow and chill, and out the boy went.
"Come back before it gets too late!" she yelled after him. She wasn't too concerned about him in the cold, what with his heavy fur and survival training from his father. The mother simply knew that if she didn't guilt him with caution, he would get into even worse trouble.
The boy looked back at her, fur rustling in the rough wind, then disappeared into the night.
Thoughts racing, the boy-wolf leaps over a snow mound towards the small, white rabbit he had caught scent of. It scampered away with ease and the boy-wolf landed in the snow with considerable force. He sank in, powder all the way up to his snout, with his hindquarters sticking out of the snow entirely.
His feet struggled to find purchase for only a moment before he was free. His body shook this way and that to rid itself of snow.
- he misses, he finished his thought. His inner monologue had taken on a decidedly grumpy tone. Da's stories never go like this...
Though this was a setback, the boy was undaunted. He hadn't been hunting for so long, yet, that a poor pounce would damper his spirits. He continued his search, following the hidden scents in the snow, in search of his next target.
It wasn't long before he had a fresh scent. Blood - lots of it, and fresh enough to still smell warm. Maybe he had wounded the rabbit after all?
With nose down, he followed the smell all the way to a hollow under an overturned tree. The blood-smell was far too strong to belong to a body as small as the rabbit. The promise of what he would find within had his mouth watering.
Careful step by careful step, he approached the hollow. The dark inside didn't yield to his eyes as he got closer, the inky black refusing to give way.
Just how deep could this hollow go? he wondered.
A chill ran down the boy-wolf's spine. Something felt off, some inner terror sense telling him that there was a wrongness about this dark, but he dismissed it. Only cold, or nerves, or both, but nothing that an up-and-coming hunter such as he would yield to.
His face was right up to the unwavering dark when a pair of burning red eyes appeared before him. Then another pair, and another, their positions disjointed in a way that couldn't possibly come from any normal face.
The boy-wolf reared back, startled, and the darkness followed him. It stretched and pulled away from the hollow, an ooze falling sideways. The mass took shape, loosely, as a large wolf skull slid into place from somewhere in the mass. Its hollow eyes dug into the wolf-boy. The mass split beneath the skull, forming into a long, gaping maw, full of row upon row of terrible teeth.
Hot breath, the first heat the boy-wolf had felt since he left home, washed over him.
He howled in terror, ready to flee, but his legs wouldn't listen. His heart screamed out, begging the body to listen to its master and quit this place.
The only thing he could do was work his mouth, and as children are wont to do, once it started - well.
"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to - I wasn't going to - I was just so hungry and -"
On and on he went, enough words to fill an hour in the span of just a few moments.
"Hunnnggerrr," replied the thing in a tumbling roil of raspy voices.
The shadow-thing finished pulling itself out of the hollow. A pair of its own antlers snapped into place on either side of the wolf skull to finish its malformed, mercurial body.
After regarding the child for a moment longer, it opened its maw in a way that could only be described as 'cavernous'. The boy-wolf winced and curled on itself as everything went dark.
A heavy thud at her door made her jump nearly out of her furs. She rushed to the door and flung it open, disregarding caution in hopes that she'd find her boy there.
Instead she found a pile of mangled meat and bones. Her hand went to her mouth and she screamed. She collapsed to her knees. The smell of her boy was on the mess. A slow hand reached forward; no amount of good judgement would stop her from confirming her worst fears.
"M-ma," spoke a shaky voice.
She pulled her hand back a half length, eyes wider than ever before.
"It- it- the- the shadow-thing from Da's stories- it.."
The mother shook.
"-it had horns, like me," the boy's voice finished. He slunk forward, appearing behind the pile. His fur was a matted mess, his eyes haunted, but there was a spark of something in them that hadn't been there before.
His mother lunged at him, careful of his horns but quick to take him into her arms.
"I thought the worst had happened, you daft boy! And look at all this - where did you find so much meat?"
The boy-wolf pulled himself free, mumbling 'Maaaa, Maa, come on Ma' all the while. His body returned to his boy-shape.
"I didn't find this, Ma. It was this- this- the strangest, scariest thing I've ever seen. It ate me! And then it spit me out here, and all this meat was here, and -"
"Fool boy, you don't need to make up stories. If you stole it, we should take it back. Otherwise- who cares where it came from. Help me bring it in."
He bobbed his head and did as asked.
The boy knew he should be terrified. Shaken to the bone and then some. And yet, after a life time of being ridiculed and bullied for his strange, Rokkr looks, it was the shadow-thing's antlers, so similar to his own, that had grabbed hold of his heart.
For where ice-like fear should have taken root, instead the fire of surety burned.
The stories about the nightmare in the shadow, the unending hunger, the terror of the night were all true. And it was a Rokkr.
Like thunder sounds,
Tumble, tumble,
Run back to town
Slavering, whispering,
Red eyes in the night,
Persisting, insisting,
It feeds on your fright
It comes, it comes,
the crown of the dark,
it's here, it's here,
the shadow's monarch
- A children's tale in Drokai
An uneasy wind passed through the small hamlet of Brakenshire. Nestled among the woods at the foot of a mountain, the winter had been unforgivingly cold this year and food stores had been running low for weeks. The villagers struggled against the frost and hail to gather what little they could to keep their bellies full. Empty bellies and abundant free time had tensions running high; the eerie whistling from the cracks in the walls only served to exacerbate already-high tensions.
"Ma, ma- my belly hurts," grumbled a child. It wasn't the first time the boy had said those words today, nor even this hour. His mother, an aging Rokkr who had seen winters like this time and again, was reaching the limit of her patience. Trade with the other shifters around Brakenshire was always hard, owing to the Rokkr's nature and unusual looks. Her boy, with antler-like horns and bony protrusions on his head and arms, could be mistaken as nothing else.
She sighed heavily.
"Go out and see if you can find something to gab on, then. There's nothing else in here for you today, not with us rationing our stores as we are," she told him.
The command was enough to get the boy's hopes up. He donned a cloak before shifting into his wolf form. His antlers were still prominent, though not as large as they would be once he was fully grown. The protrusions, likewise, were more accent than armor. His mother cracked the door, letting in snow and chill, and out the boy went.
"Come back before it gets too late!" she yelled after him. She wasn't too concerned about him in the cold, what with his heavy fur and survival training from his father. The mother simply knew that if she didn't guilt him with caution, he would get into even worse trouble.
The boy looked back at her, fur rustling in the rough wind, then disappeared into the night.
***
The mighty hunter stalks into the cold night. He prepares to leap onto his prey and -
Thoughts racing, the boy-wolf leaps over a snow mound towards the small, white rabbit he had caught scent of. It scampered away with ease and the boy-wolf landed in the snow with considerable force. He sank in, powder all the way up to his snout, with his hindquarters sticking out of the snow entirely.
His feet struggled to find purchase for only a moment before he was free. His body shook this way and that to rid itself of snow.
- he misses, he finished his thought. His inner monologue had taken on a decidedly grumpy tone. Da's stories never go like this...
Though this was a setback, the boy was undaunted. He hadn't been hunting for so long, yet, that a poor pounce would damper his spirits. He continued his search, following the hidden scents in the snow, in search of his next target.
It wasn't long before he had a fresh scent. Blood - lots of it, and fresh enough to still smell warm. Maybe he had wounded the rabbit after all?
With nose down, he followed the smell all the way to a hollow under an overturned tree. The blood-smell was far too strong to belong to a body as small as the rabbit. The promise of what he would find within had his mouth watering.
Careful step by careful step, he approached the hollow. The dark inside didn't yield to his eyes as he got closer, the inky black refusing to give way.
Just how deep could this hollow go? he wondered.
A chill ran down the boy-wolf's spine. Something felt off, some inner terror sense telling him that there was a wrongness about this dark, but he dismissed it. Only cold, or nerves, or both, but nothing that an up-and-coming hunter such as he would yield to.
His face was right up to the unwavering dark when a pair of burning red eyes appeared before him. Then another pair, and another, their positions disjointed in a way that couldn't possibly come from any normal face.
The boy-wolf reared back, startled, and the darkness followed him. It stretched and pulled away from the hollow, an ooze falling sideways. The mass took shape, loosely, as a large wolf skull slid into place from somewhere in the mass. Its hollow eyes dug into the wolf-boy. The mass split beneath the skull, forming into a long, gaping maw, full of row upon row of terrible teeth.
Hot breath, the first heat the boy-wolf had felt since he left home, washed over him.
He howled in terror, ready to flee, but his legs wouldn't listen. His heart screamed out, begging the body to listen to its master and quit this place.
The only thing he could do was work his mouth, and as children are wont to do, once it started - well.
"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to - I wasn't going to - I was just so hungry and -"
On and on he went, enough words to fill an hour in the span of just a few moments.
"Hunnnggerrr," replied the thing in a tumbling roil of raspy voices.
The shadow-thing finished pulling itself out of the hollow. A pair of its own antlers snapped into place on either side of the wolf skull to finish its malformed, mercurial body.
After regarding the child for a moment longer, it opened its maw in a way that could only be described as 'cavernous'. The boy-wolf winced and curled on itself as everything went dark.
***
Some alien terror had gripped the mother's heart some hours after her boy had gone. She had done her best to stay put in the house for the sake of her other children, but worry was near to pushing her to action.
A heavy thud at her door made her jump nearly out of her furs. She rushed to the door and flung it open, disregarding caution in hopes that she'd find her boy there.
Instead she found a pile of mangled meat and bones. Her hand went to her mouth and she screamed. She collapsed to her knees. The smell of her boy was on the mess. A slow hand reached forward; no amount of good judgement would stop her from confirming her worst fears.
"M-ma," spoke a shaky voice.
She pulled her hand back a half length, eyes wider than ever before.
"It- it- the- the shadow-thing from Da's stories- it.."
The mother shook.
"-it had horns, like me," the boy's voice finished. He slunk forward, appearing behind the pile. His fur was a matted mess, his eyes haunted, but there was a spark of something in them that hadn't been there before.
His mother lunged at him, careful of his horns but quick to take him into her arms.
"I thought the worst had happened, you daft boy! And look at all this - where did you find so much meat?"
The boy-wolf pulled himself free, mumbling 'Maaaa, Maa, come on Ma' all the while. His body returned to his boy-shape.
"I didn't find this, Ma. It was this- this- the strangest, scariest thing I've ever seen. It ate me! And then it spit me out here, and all this meat was here, and -"
"Fool boy, you don't need to make up stories. If you stole it, we should take it back. Otherwise- who cares where it came from. Help me bring it in."
He bobbed his head and did as asked.
The boy knew he should be terrified. Shaken to the bone and then some. And yet, after a life time of being ridiculed and bullied for his strange, Rokkr looks, it was the shadow-thing's antlers, so similar to his own, that had grabbed hold of his heart.
For where ice-like fear should have taken root, instead the fire of surety burned.
The stories about the nightmare in the shadow, the unending hunger, the terror of the night were all true. And it was a Rokkr.