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In the ancient forest of the Wood Walkers, a small circle of trees created a clearing where the moon shone bright. From the ground, small points of red light glowed in the darkness, contrasting with the silvery moonbeams. No Wrent had ever been able to Speak to the stone, and so few understood it. The fifty that gathered in the small clearing treaded on the precious stone as if it were like any other. They cared little for magic.
Only revenge.
Cuno snarled as he paced around the clearing. All that was left of the foxes that had traveled south with him and Domne stood in a circle around him while he angrily thought of their next step. Obviously, none of them had dreamed that Domne could be bested in battle. To have been killed by a human was even more of an insult.
Their race held a grudge against the elves alone.
But now, Cuno had the dark-haired woman's face etched into his memory. He would not rest until he had driven his spear through her heart.
"What now?" Ballo asked.
Cuno barked at the interruption and bared his teeth at the young, ignorant fox.
Ballo was a small, black fox. He was eager to prove himself a strong warrior in the pack and had even taken down his first elf in the last raid. His strength could grow in time. With the proper skill and teaching, he could become a powerful Wrent. But his ambition was showing its ugly head.
Cuno was sure that Ballo was too eager for his own good. Domne had been their leader. Now that he was dead, a new leader must rise up to take charge. Cuno stared hard into the black eyes and recognized the fierce look of a challenger.
There were few Wrents who had spent as much time with Domne as Cuno had. He was the one to take charge now. Not this young pup.
"What would you have us do?" Cuno asked, still walking the perimeter.
Ballo took a step into the circle and began to walk along the outer edge, his eyes never leaving Cuno's.
"We strike back," Ballo replied. With one paw he gripped his spear firmly.
"The elves think us beaten. We ought to use that to our advantage."
He stabbed his spear into the air several times for effect.
"We strike at night and disappear after killing many elves. We take revenge for our fallen!"
Some in the circle barked their approval of the plan. Others stomped their paws into the soft earth. Any Wrent plan that involved killing the long-legs would receive at least some approval. In his years following after Domne, Cuno had learned one important rule: You can't exact revenge when you're dead.
"And have them kill the last of our pack in the process?" Cuno countered.
Ballo bared his teeth and snarled at him.
"And would you have us run with our tails between our legs?" he barked viciously.
This time the Wrent's spear was stabbed straight at Cuno. He could feel the moment approaching. Wrent leaders were never chosen by popular vote nor were they passed down from father to son. The foxes followed only the strongest. They were bound to the Wrent who could prove his strength no matter the challenge.
Cuno made sure of his footing before turning to face Ballo full on, rage and determination filling up his being.
"We make war," he replied. "Not our pack alone. Not our tribe alone. All tribes. We take the forest of the long-legs as our own."
Ballo laughed, but Cuno stood firm. This plan was materializing in his mind as he spoke it. He could see himself as the leader of the Wrents: strong and vicious. He could feel that this was his moment.
The scoffing of this challenger would not take that away from him.
"And how will you do what no other Wrent has done before? How will you, Cuno, unite the tribes to fight as one?"
Cuno growled in response and clinched his fist, knowing the time was close at hand.
It was true. The tribes never fought together if they could help it. United though they were in their hatred of the elves, they were divided in their purposes and tribes. No Wrent had ever given allegiance to another who was not of their tribe.
But Cuno saw what he knew others could not.
An opportunity.
"A mongrel like you wouldn't understand," he barked.
Ballo howled with anger and dove at Cuno, spear tip pointed at his heart.
He was ready.
With one strong paw, he knocked aside the spear. With the other, as Ballo's body came crashing into his, he grabbed a glowing red rock from the ground and thrust into the side of Ballo's skull.
It exploded with a blast, throwing Cuno off his paws and hurling the body of Ballo several feet away.
He could smell the grass and dirt beneath him with excellent clarity. Burnt flesh and skin also invaded his snout with ferocity. The hand he had held the rock with was burning like it was on fire.
The night sky spun above him, but he felt a surge within him. A sudden swell of energy.
He was hurt to some extent. It pained him to move the paws underneath him and lift himself off the ground. None around the circle moved. They all stood still, seeing who would rise.
Cuno looked for the blow of retaliation from Ballo, but it didn't come. His body lay smoking several paces away from Cuno. The challenger was dead. Fully satisfied with his work, Cuno now examined his throbbing hand.
Though the fur to his elbow was brown, from his forearm to his paw, it was turned a brilliant color of red. Embedded in the middle of his paw, surrounded by pulsating and still charred skin, was a rock similar to the one he had smashed Ballo's skull with. It was smaller, though the color was the same.
Cuno guessed it had broken off during the explosion.
He reached out his other paw to touch it, expecting it to hurt greatly. To his surprise, when he placed his paw on the rock, it glowed but didn't cause him the slightest pain.
Trying to grip it with his other paw, he pulled. There was still no pain, but it wouldn't come out either. The stone was lodged deeply into him. He closed and opened his paw several times. Each flex brought a brighter glow from the rock now lodged in his hand. Cuno felt a fire in his arm. Clenching his paw tightly, he could feel energy pulsating out from the stone. This was a sign. He was meant to be the one to unite the Wrents. The stone had blessed him with power. He could feel it was true.
Cuno looked around at the yellow eyes that were trained on him.
Their pack's new leader.
“Adach, Gile,” he called out to the circle.
A general rustle followed as those who looked on either looked to the ground or for the ones who had been singled out. It was not uncommon for a Wrent leader to kill whomever he thought might pose a threat. Whether a direct challenger or someone who may become one.
Two Wrents slunk forward, cautious of Cuno, and bowed their heads low. Cuno had plans for these two that did not involve killing them right off.
“Travel north as silently and quickly as you can. Back to our lands. Tell the tribes you encounter, Cuno the Red Handed is coming.”
For a moment, they continued to stay low, only looking up at the Wrent who had commanded them. Now was his time to show his might.
“NOW!” barked Cuno, driving his paw with the stone at the both of them. He felt the power of the stone surge within him. A flash of red light and a burst of flame between the two sent them running north, tail between their legs and yelping in pain.
The circle around Cuno widened as many looked at their new leader in terror and awe. Clasping his paw around the stone of power, he glared back at them. Now was the time to become a leader.
“We move northeast,” he said. “To the human lands.”