Cuno was panting hard. He and his pack had spent the last two weeks in an all out sprint to arrive back among their kind. Some of the tribe had given in to fatigue or hunger.
Not Cuno.
A new energy was welling up inside of him. He felt stronger, taller, more able than all of his pack. When they had last left the land of the Wrent tribes, he had been a tall but thin creature, skulking in the shadows of his superior. Now that Domne, their former tribe leader was dead, and this new gift was granted to him, Cuno was a threatening challenger.
Many skin tents and holes dotted the hills the Wrents had called their homes since being driven from the south. The paths worn down by Wrents traveling to and from the lands below would go on to lead Cuno and his pack to the other Wrent settlements. He would follow this trail until he had united the Wrents or perished in the attempt. And in his mind, he could still see himself as the leader of the Wrents, the one to unite the packs and tribes into one.
The dusty trail wound on around a large hill, and Cuno knew he was approaching the leader of the Arras tribe. It was he who had sent Domne and his pack down south to the elves of the woods. It had been their hope to kill as many of the long-legs as possible and return with their heads, securing their pack's place within the tribe.
Cuno now had a different mission.
He walked with a saunter as he came upon the hole of his tribal leader: Dumna.
The den of Dumna was the largest of the tribe. All around the path that led to his door, the heads of elves were shoved through wooden stakes. The banner of the Arras tribe flew above his den: a black cloth with one red line, with another white on top of it that formed an "X".
Dumna was the brother of Domne. He, too, was an albino Wrent. The two had claimed this was a sign that they were the strongest and most capable of leading. Cuno was there to disprove that.
He let out a long and loud howl, signaling to all around that there was someone now calling all attention on himself. Slowly, Dumna came from his hole, a few female Wrents following him, basking in his leadership and dominance.
"Cuno," he snarled lazily.
Dumna was not as tall as Cuno, but he was much broader and his power was known far and wide. The other tribes respected him, even if they didn't trust him. Those who got too close to Dumna and posed a threat were often dealt with quickly and publicly. Which was why Cuno had decided not to wait to make his own claim.
"Where is Domne?" the white Wrent asked, looking over the remnants of the pack he had sent south. "And where are the heads of the elves who will bring our tribe honor?"
The pack had brought back none of their revenge killings, such was their speed in coming north and the urgency with which Cuno had driven them.
"Domne is dead," Cuno replied, taking a step towards Dumna and standing to his full height. "And I am here to replace him as our pack's leader."
"That is not for you to decide," Dumna replied, also standing and sticking out his chest.
Dumna had the final say on all pack leaders in the Arras tribe. If he disapproved of any selected by trial, he himself would challenge them. Any Wrent who fought Dumna ended up dead. Cuno snarled and let out a threatening bark.
"It had been determined by challenge," he said, not taking his eyes of Dumna. "And I am Cuno, the Red Handed, leader of this pack."
Dumna jumped forward and bared his teeth at Cuno.
"You are a rat and not strong enough to lead any Wrent," he snarled back.
Many Wrents had gathered around the confrontation that was happening. Some growled at Cuno and snapped at his heels. Others barked their displeasure at Dumna.
A Wrent tribe leader had just as many friends as they did foes. Dumna had been the tribe's leader since before Cuno could recall. The young Wrent closed his paw around his embedded piece of Rimstone. He felt it burn with power.
A sensation he was becoming used to.
Cuno looked down and saw, as it had been doing each time he grasped his paw in this manner, that it had been engulfed in quiet flames of red. Dumna's eyes looked at the fire in Cuno's paw, then barked and bared his teeth at the challenger. Cuno could see a trace of fear, despite the fox's defiant yell.
“No fire will scare Dumna!”
Several other Wrents were howling at the red flames that began to engulf Cuno's paw and arm.
Then Dumna made his move.
There was no circling and sizing one another up. No threats and talks of whom knew the tribe better. Dumna had always been quick for the kill. It was his undoing. Cuno caught the Wrent as he charged, steadying himself with his hind leg and using his arm covered in fire to grab at Dumna's throat.
Though the tribal leader charged at full speed, Cuno stopped him easily. Power surged through him as he gripped his adversary. Dumna yelped in surprise and pain as the fire moved from Cuno's paw to his own fur and flesh. He tried to break free of the grasp that held him so tightly, but could not.
Cuno's new power was overwhelming.
Within moments, the strong white Wrent was consumed in red flames. A victorious howl escaped Cuno's snout as he flung the lifeless body of Dumna as easily as if he were a branch. The circle widened as Cuno strode around it, looking for any challengers who may try to face him now.
None appeared.
He barked wildly at the Wrents gathered around him.
“I am Cuno, the Red-Handed!” he shouted with all his might. “Follow me as leader, and see the Wrent tribes united under my strong paw!”
With his final words, he threw his paw into the air and out of it shot a brilliant red flame.
Howls of agreement echoed around him and sounded the first calls to unite the tribes since the days of old.
Cuno was growing strong.