Blue Wolf of Red Moon [2]

Instructions

Laghk opened her eyes, and blinked blearily at the world around her. Bright sunlight filtered through the canopy overhead, and the uneven ground scraped against her back as she was dragged through the forest. Laghk raised her head. Her paws were tied her chest, and her muzzle was bound with a sturdy vine. Laghk guessed it was to keep her from howling an alarm, since if she wanted to, she could easily part her jaws enough to speak. The vine tied to her mid-section was connected to another long vine, that was in the jaws of Mestagen, the wolf who has hesitated to attack her and Spice. A sharp stab of pity jolted through Laghk’s body as she spotted the slash mark on the light gray wolf’s muzzle, still lightly dripping blood as he scrambled to haul her over a tree root. Laghk twisted her head away from the pitying scene, searching for Spice. She found her friend bound in the same condition, her eyes closed and her muzzle twitching, as if in a dream. The darker brown pelt of the second wolf could be seen dragging Spice roughly over an array of pebbles scattering the ground. Laghk realized, with a flash of surprise, that Mestagen was taking care to not drag her over a sharp stone, or a jutting splinter, while the second wolf, (who Laghk had decided to call Gray), didn’t seem to care in the slightest what happened to their captive. Meanwhile, Spirk walked proudly in the lead, her tail high and ears perked as her companions panted with the effort of towing wolves their own size in their wake. A spark of pain shot through Laghk’s spine, and she twisted numbly around to see the claw marks that Spirk had left in their fight. She must’ve knocked me out. Laghk thought, gritting her teeth as one of her wounds scraped over a rough stone. Mestagen glanced back in surprise, as she let out a small gasp of pain. The light gray wolf slowed, letting his other laboring companion lumber on ahead, and turned to crouch beside Laghk. “Mestagen, what are you doing?” Laghk’s heart leapt to her throat as Spirk’s voice sounded from a little ways ahead. “Just checking her binding,” Mestagen lied. “I thought I saw one of the vines get loose when I pulled her over a rock. Spirk snorted. “Very well, just don’t be long, and know that we won’t be waiting for you.” The sound of pawsteps slowly receded, and Laghk let out a long breath. “You lied to her…” Laghk rasped, her voice rough from the dirt getting in her lungs. “…why?” To Laghk’s surprise, Mestagen laughed. “You really think… that I ENJOY working for her?” He asked, jutting his chin in the direction that Spirk had went. “Well, she IS your packmate…” Laghk murmured, feeling her voice strengthening from repeated use. Mestagen leaned over, his muzzle just inches from hers. “You really think that any good, reliable packmate would do THIS?” He asked, his voice close to a snarl, as he indicated the wound. “I-I guess not.” Laghk replied, lowering her gaze. “Well, that’s settled then.” Mestagen pulled back from her, and rose to his paws. “Let’s get to the point,” He barked. “I am getting you out of here.”