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Bear Necessities
A parade of wolves files out into the snow. Unchanged, Ambassador Anguis is heading towards me when a mildly fluffy and slightly threadbare grey wolf clamps his teeth on my sleeve and tugs, hard.
“Drop it,” I command, as though scolding an ill tempered pitbull. He worries my sleeve to the point where I expect it to rip and I’m contemplating whether it’s safe to slap his wet nose when a shiny black wolf grabs a hold on the other sleeve. Their combined pull heaves me forward, to the amusement of the ambassador. “Alright, I’m coming,” I mutter. “Stop it, both of you.”
Outside, I stutter to a halt in the snow, stunned. Fourteen eagle guards have transformed into their aquiline forms. It didn’t occur to me their size would increase in the same manner as the wolves. The birds now stand twice the size of their human forms, with hooked beaks sharp enough to cut through armour.
Wings steps out onto the snow, feathers swirling around his rising body, squawking so loudly, the vibration dislodges an avalanche of snow from a nearby chalet roof. He stalks to my side, towering above my quivering head, peering down through beady eyes. My gaze drops to lethal claws, grasping at snow and ice. He delivers another ear-splitting shriek and unfolds an enormous pair of wings to their full, gigantic span. Everyone else disappears behind a wall of brown plumage. I suspect he’s trying to intimidate me. It’s working.
Curt’s wolf crawls beneath the fanned display, feathers draping over his face, and rumbles impatiently.
“I’m coming,” I snap. “If birdman could possibly flap to one side.”
“Perhaps you could join your fellow eagles?” a disembodied, but firm voice announces.
The wings fold neatly back against his body as Wings lets out a final squawk and struts over to stand near, but not with, the aviary. His absence reveals the smiling ambassador, hands clasped before him. Oh my, the snake certainly is charming.
“As you will not be changing, I suggest you stand with the snakes for the usual preliminary rituals,” he says, guiding me with the lightest of touches to my shoulder. He glances down at my two flanking wolves. “You can join the pack once again, when they change back.”
“I can stay inside, if I’m in the way, or it’s easier?” I venture. Dulcis lets out a tiny whimper and I immediately backpedal. “I’ll stand with you, Ambassador, if I may.”
“Indeed, you may.”
Heading towards the Snake Delegation, keeping pace with Anguis, I hear a decidedly irritable growl echo behind me, followed by a ripe fart. My current companion pretends he hasn’t heard it.
“Why do you stay as men when everyone else changes?” I ask Anguis, curiosity getting the better of me.
His king exercises excellent hearing, answering, “Because we’re snakes,” with the sort of supercilious smile that’s the province of those born rich and powerful.
I see. Maybe they’re not so charming, after all.
“Meetings between the wolves, bears and eagles have traditionally taken place in animal form to prove they carry no weapons and to display their true faces,” Anguis helpfully adds. Serpen glances at him, but says nothing.
The animals may not be carrying weapons, but the snake guards certainly are, closing in to form a tight semicircle around us. The resulting claustrophobia makes me want to grab Anguis’ arm, but I refrain.
That bleeding awful trumpeter reappears to further traumatise everyone’s hearing and he’s playing a hyperventilating dirge that would depress an angel. I’m so happy when it ends, I applaud. All faces turn in my direction, horror plastered across them, whilst Anguis gently lays a palm on my hands to stop me. His smile doesn’t falter.
“Sorry,” I whisper. “I’ll just stand here quietly.”
“Let’s hope it’s the day for miracles,” he whispers back.
A thump, thump from the forest precedes the arrival of a hulking great, brown bear, legs like tree trunks, his coffee coloured fur peppered in toothmark scars, with a long slice down the side of his slightly bent nose. He’s so scary, he reminds me of a cartoon villain.
“Ursid, the War General,” Anguis tells me.
“Yikes,” I mutter, shuffling back a step.
Behind the nightmare general pads a closed circle of bears, ranging from pitch black to tan brown shades, all carrying a colossal weight of muscle and fur. The odd roar reveals a jagged set of cream and brown teeth. If they open wide, they could take off my head and most of my torso with it. Geez, aren’t there any small changers in this world?
As the circle advances, I catch brief glimpses of the bear in the centre, enough to see that he’s unmarked, young and a glorious shade of honey ginger. I glance at Anguis with an unspoken question.
He leans towards me. “Adamo, the bear prince. He’s a spirit bear; very rare. This may get a little loud, but don’t move.”
“Right.”
Alpha pads forward as the circle breaks and Adamo thunders through the bears towards him. I wince, expecting a rugby collision or a bout of sumo wrestling. They halt, bear and wolf noses barely inches apart, and bellow, spraying each other with airborne spit. The roar and howl are so loud, I’m tempted to cover my ears, but I promised I’d stand still.
King Serpen turns to nod at Anguis and the ambassador marches towards the confrontation. “Give way,” he commands. I’ve no idea how they hear him over the racket they’re making, but the noise suddenly ceases. “Submit to your king.”
All the wolves and bears drop low, noses sticking in the snow. That horrible muffled click sounds like Curt’s hip as he bends, but he doesn’t protest. The eagles fold away their wings and bow their heads, but it’s noticeable that their bodies don’t drop lower. Granted, that would be difficult with skinny bird legs, but it still has the effect of enforcing an obvious hierarchy. It makes me wonder what Wings is doing with the wolves.
Anguis turns towards his king. “Your Majesty, we bow.” All the snake guards bow their heads, Anguis last of all.
“You may change,” Serpen announces.
All shrink back to their human forms, leaving the eagles standing, but the bears and wolves lying prostrate in the snow. Frankly I find the whole thing distasteful.
“Stand before your king,” Anguis commands and they drag themselves to their feet, brushing snow from frozen extremities. I’ve given up looking away.
The young bear prince rises to reveal himself as a colossally tall, strapping teenager, barely older than Dulcis, with masses of freckles coating his nose, carrot ginger hair and an impressive six pack. His face isn’t bad either. And I’m not the only one who thinks so. The revived Dulcis catches sight of her possible proposed and judging from the smirk on her face, likes what she sees.
Sensing eyes burning into his impressive physique, Adamo glances over Alpha’s shoulder. When his eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets at the sight of her curves, she lifts her chin and stares straight at him.
Right, well she’s certainly changing her tune. Apparently they’ve both been zapped with a gallon of teenage hormones. I’m not her mother, but I think someone needs to put the brakes on this, and standing around in the cold getting an eyeful isn’t helping.
“Your Majesty, may we begin negotiations?” Anguis asks.
“You may,” Serpen replies, coughing genteelly as a violent shiver passes through his body.
A dark cloud flashes across Anguis’ face and is gone, hidden in the folds of statesmanship. “Prince Adamo, Alpha Wolf, please clothe yourselves and repair inside.”
Once clothed, Adamo asks Alpha, “May I be introduced to the Alpha Daughter?”
Alpha nods and an entirely too eager Dulcis dances forward without needing to be summoned. I hear tutting and sighing, realise it’s me and force myself to stop. There’ll be no clinging to hands now; not mine anyway.
“I’m honoured to meet...” Adamo begins, trips over his own feet and lands in a heap at hers. That’s it; they’re both gone.
That raucous laugh echoing across the snow is Curt.
The teens look so embarrassed that I give him the ‘Stop or I’ll make you suffer’ glare and his snigger fades away. When I turn back, the prince and my surrogate girly are staring at me like I saved their drowning puppy.
The wolf brothers, however, give me their ‘public enemy number one’ growl and Wings sizes me up for bird feed.
Oh, for Pete’s sake, what am I getting myself into?
