Far in the distance, from the safety of the Puddifoot smial, Yorric heard the howls of wolves as he sat peeling and chopping potatoes with Bryony, a task his hobbit friend's mother had given them in preparation of tonight's supper. He was happy to be of service, glad to do whatever needed doing in return for the hospitality Bryony's family had bestowed upon him. He stilled in his work, narrowing his eyes as he listened to the sound.
"Oh don't fret! The Bounders will make sure they don't get too close!" Bryony assured him, grinning when a horn sounded far in the distance, answered by another. "See? They'll chase them off right quick! Make sure they don't carry off any livestock."
Yorric nodded, and relaxed after a moment, returning his attention to the potatoes.
The sound of the howls, the thought of wolves carrying off livestock, such things took him back to another winter's night, one far in the past, when he was far younger, trying to prove himself a man...
The wind howled, snow falling rapidly as Yorric trudged through the snow around the outside of the ring of massive, ancient oaks that surrounded
Beorninghús, beyond the brambled fence that also surrounded grandfather Grimbeorn's home. Though the night was frigid, he was warm in the wool clothes his mother had made him from the sheep they kept, and a warg fur coat that had once belonged to his father when he was far younger.
Only on loan, but soon the coat would belong to him! His father had killed the warg on a night just like this one, during his own test when he came of age. Guarding Beorninghús, and all the animals within! Now it was Yorric's turn! His father said the coat would be his, if he proved himself tonight. He would! He would be fearless, as his father had been. Fearless and fierce! He would defend their home with tooth and claw, make his father, Berengar, and mother, Wynflaed, proud!
No moon, nor stars to light his way, too stormy a night for such things, he had only a lantern to light his way, yet as the night wore on, the storm grew worse, making the horizon disappear as blowing snow blended the sky and ground into a featureless white expanse. He did not fear, nor growl and grumble at the growing cold and hard to see conditions! Such things were not fit for a son of Berengar! Such a night made a bear feel alive!! That is what his father would say, with a booming laugh. He laughed, and told himself that several times, when he really started to long for hearth and bed. Such a night made a bear feel alive!!!
He slowed to a stop when he heard a howl. And another. Another! More! Wolves!! Nearly a dozen! Let them come! He had been hoping for a warg or two, for what a challenge that would be for a young bear, just like his father had faced! but a dozen wolves, that was nothing to chuff at!! He would prove himself, there would be many toasts to him, and his father and mother would be so proud!
Grinning, he started to hurry towards the noise, freezing when he heard another howl. Not a wolf, nor was it the howl of a warg. Those he had heard before. This sound...This eerie noise was something like the howl of a wolf and a warg combined. Worse. He had never heard it before, and it chilled him down to his marrow.
He had heard tales of the wolf beings. Larger than Beornings, with horrid claws and terrible, sharp teeth, they hunted with wolves, commanded them, and could run on all fours or two legs with the speed of a wolf. They lived high in the mountains, and it had been many years since they had come down so low. He had never seen one, nor his father. Long had it been since they had troubled Grimbeorn the Old!
More howls! There was more than one of them! Three, maybe four, along with their wolves! What had brought them down from the mountains? This winter had been harsh, harsher than any he had seen before, every day seeming to bring a storm like the one that raged around him. No doubt hunger had brought them, and they sought to carry off Beorning livestock!
This was a threat for a fully grown warden of his people.
No! How could he ever face his father again if he ran from this threat?! The thought of his father's disappointment chilled him more than the howls of the wolf beings.
With grim, resolute determination, he set his lantern down and shifted into his bear form, sounding out the loudest, most ferocious roar he could manage before he gathered the lantern handle in his maw, charging through the snow towards the sound of the howls. Others would surely come, they would have heard the howls too, but he would stand against this threat to their home with the wardens!
Gleaming eyes and dark shapes were nearly upon him when he could finally see them ahead in the lanterns glow, one massive, humanoid shape, and two wolves on each side of the figure, all running on all fours. Where were the rest?! Surrounding him, no doubt. Let them try to down him!! He tossed his head, letting the lantern fly, flinging it with such force that it crashed against the wolf being and broke, engulfing the fearsome creature in flames.
The wolf being reared up on two legs with an enraged snarl, ripping the flame licked fur mantle from his shoulders, about to pounce upon Yorric, but suddenly, Berengar, his father was there in his massive bear form, charging the wolf being, crashing against the creature with the force of a landslide, with claw and maw!!!
Then two of the wolves were upon Yorric, the others moving against his father as he fought the wolf being.
More howls, but they were answered by the roars of bears! Uncle Brandulf was there too! And others, but they were just dark shapes moving in the swirling snow.
Brandulf’s roar rang out in the storm like thunder! He barreled out of the white swirl and smashed into one of the circling wolves, jaws closing around its spine with a crack that was swallowed by the wind. Another bear surged in from Yorric’s left, it was his mother, Wynflaed!! She sent two wolves tumbling through the snow!
Yorric had no time to marvel, for the pair that had leapt for him struck almost together. He reared, roaring again, and met them with sweeping paws. One wolf flew aside, skidding across the snow with a yelp, and the other sank teeth into the thick fur of his neck, but Yorric twisted and bit down hard, feeling ribs give beneath his jaws. He flung the limp body away and spun just in time to face another wolf.
Around him the fight became chaos, dark forms lunging and colliding, growls, howls and roars! The heavy thuds of bears meeting wolves, snarls cut short by crushing blows!
At the heart of it all, Berengar fought the wolf being.
The creature was immense, his claws long and black. Fire still clung to tufts of its fur clothes where the lantern had struck, smoking as snow hissed against him. He struck at Berengar, claws raking fur and hide, but Berengar answered with raw strength, slamming his bulk into the creature again and again, and then with a powerful swipe of claws, ended the creature.
Another wolf being burst from the storm, leaping for Berengar’s flank, and Yorric saw it. Fear flared, but it did not root him to the ground. He charged!
He hit the wolf being low, teeth clamping around his leg. The creature snarled and crashed into the snow. Yorric snarled back, holding him fast as Brandulf arrived a heartbeat later and finished the work with a single, crushing bite!
Of the wolves that remained, some tried to flee, to vanish into the storm, but bears ran them down with relentless fury. Others fought to the end, snapping and snarling until they were crushed beneath paw and jaw, or slashed or pierced. One by one the howls faded, until the only sound was that of the wind, bears, and the snarls of one remaining foe...
One last wolf being staggered back from the bears, for the third had been downed by the other bears. The wolf being was bleeding, burning eyes darting wildly. He tried to turn, to run, but Berengar did not let it. He surged forward, rose up, and brought his full weight down upon it, then his maw was at the creature's neck. There was a final, choking cry, then just the sound of wind and bears remained.
Bears stood amid the wreckage of the fight, steam rising from their bodies, breath coming hard and fast as the storm began, at last, to ease. One by one they shifted back into their human forms, powerful men and women wrapped in fur and wool, faces grim but none gravely harmed.
Yorric shifted last.
He felt a heavy hand rest upon his shoulder. He looked up to see his father standing before him, Berengar’s face streaked with blood and snow, his eyes bright and fierce...And proud.
“Well done, Yorric.” Berengar said. "You stood your ground.”
Uncle Brandulf laughed, a booming sound. “Aye. Charged a wolf-being without a second thought! Had we not come, it would have been your last thought!"
"It would have been a good death. Protecting home, as I was tasked!" Yorric snorted defiantly to his uncle, his father laughing and clapping his shoulder.
Then they set to the work that needed to be done, as Beornings always did.
The wolves were skinned, their pelts folded, bundled and packed away against the cold, the bodies dragged far from Beorninghús, to feed the wilds. The bodies of the wolf beings were dragged together, stacked with broken branches and split logs. Fire was brought, and the pyre lit, snow no longer falling by that time.
Only when it was done did they turn homeward.
Yorric walked between his father and mother through the gates, exhaustion settling into his bones at last. The light from Beorninghús spilled out warm and golden, cutting through the snow. Inside waited hearthfire, food, and the low murmur of voices that would soon rise in celebration. Yorric could see his younger cousin, Hármund, peering out from one of the windows. He grinned tiredly at his favorite wrestling partner, nodding to show he was not rid of him yet!!
At the threshold, Berengar stopped and tugged the warg fur coat more securely around Yorric’s shoulders.
“No longer on loan!” He smiled. “You earned it tonight. Such might! Crushing bite, strong swipe of claw!"
"Brave bear. Wear it with pride!" His mother praised, hugging him tightly.
Yorric swallowed, chest tight, and nodded, hugging his mother back and smiling to see his father's eyes shining with pride and love, which mattered far more to him than any praise he would hear inside! "Thank you, Father. I had hoped to face a warg as you did! Never could I have imagined such a trail!"
"Nor I! What a trial! A cub would have run to safety! You proved yourself a bear grown! Come and feast! While we drink to you! I cannot wait to speak to my father. Surely Grimbeorn will now rethink who should-" Berengar started, but his wife gave a chuff of annoyance.
"Do not poke a sleeping bear! Terrible was the last argument over the line of succession! Let him merely hear the tale of how Yorric proved himself tonight, that alone will have him rethinking! Do not pester him to do so and sully this day!" She advised in a firm whisper.
"Wise you are, my cherished one. I will heed your council. Hear this, Yorric! More precious than honey is a wise and fierce wife!" Berengar laughed, pulling both wife and son close, hugging them tight.
Yorric embraced them both, feeling that he would be hard pressed to choose a day more dear to his heart than today! He tried to focus on the moment, for he knew the reprieve from his father's ambitions was only temporary. For as long as he could remember, his father was ever lamenting the fact that Brandulf and his line would someday become chief, ever scheming to eclipse them. Within a week, he would be scheming again.
Tonight, though...There would be no scheming, only celebration.
"Yorric! Yooo hooooo!! I think you've chopped that poor potato quite enough!" Bryony's voice brought him back to the present day.
Yorric blinked, finding he had chopped the potato nearly into mush!
"Goodness, you were miles away for a few moments there, weren't you?" Bryony chuckled. "Worried about the wolves??"
Yorric shook his head, wiping his hands on the sheet Bryony's mother had provided him for an apron, before reaching for his slate and chalk, writing upon his slate: 'Was thinking of the past. Of protecting my home from wolves.' He thought for a moment to add 'and other things' to his slate, but thought better of it, not wanting to scare his little friend.
"Oh! Do you want to go help the Bounders chase off the wolves?? I'm sure they'd appreciate the help! Perhaps not as a bear, though! I think they'd be quite alarmed by that and might try to chase YOU off, too!" She chuckled as a horn sounded nearby. "That'll be the Stock bounders mustering, come, we'll catch them before they leave!" She hurried to stand, wiping her hands on her apron, Yorric nodding as he stood, untying the sheet from around his waist and draping it over a chair.
"Mum!!! We're done with the potatoes! Yorric wants to go help the Bounders chase off those wolves!" Bryony hollered.
"Oh! Do be careful! Quite sure those wolves would run for the hills in terror when seein' him, but be careful all the same!" Missus Puddifoot called as Bry and Yorric hurried out into the night.
Turned out she was quite right, those wolves were no trouble and made themselves scarce when Yorric joined the Bounders, but Yorric appreciated her concern all the same!
