Chapter One: Forest Midnight

The darkness of the night diminished his sight, the vivid smell of the forest filled the air atmosphere. The twilight was illuminated only by the moon, shining brightly upon the treetops. Little light penetrated the canopy, but what did revealed the inhabitants of the forest: the plants and animals resting undisturbed by the outside. Among them, was Feinor, a young man of only eighteen. He had slanted, dark green eyes, and was lean and strong from life in the forest, with dark brown hair, a shade away from black.

That night, his dreams were racked with terrible nightmares of death, destruction, and despair. He could only watched helplessly as he saw his family, a pack of wolves, torn and slaughtered by his own kind: humans. He witnessed the death of his leader, his body limp on the ground. It looked so real to him, so vivid, he thought it might come true, or even that it was happening at that very moment.

Feinor sat up, sweating, fear revealed through his eyes. He glanced around, looking at the other wolves. The ones whom he had seen dying in his nightmares. Letting out a sigh of relief, he stood up, and walked outside the cave. He looked around slowly, staring at the trees and plants, admiring their peace and serenity. For the longest time, he had been awed by the power of his sight. He could see better than any wolf in his pack, and had night vision, even though he was human. Skirn had told him he was gifted, but Feinor had a feeling it was more than that. He never mentioned it though.

Skirn was his pack leader, and had been like a father to him. All that the wise wolf had told him was that he found him in the forest as a baby, left alone. Whenever he tried to pry more information out of him, he didn't reply, instead he just looked away. Ever since then, he wondered, who am I? While Feinor was deep in thought, he didn't hear Skirn approaching him from behind. His leader prodded him with a paw, and he looked behind him, surprised. The wise wolf lifted his nose, and sniffed the air. He scented many animals, but most importantly: human outsiders. Feinor, wake the others, Skirn instructed. He dipped his head, and crept away, back to the den. Feinor also knew that he had another gift. He could communicate with all animals, from his very prey, to the wolves he now considered family.

Waking the others, he announced, Skirn scented Humans, so be prepared. Each bowed their heads in acknowledgment, saying nothing to betray the night's stillness. While the pack had never shown aggressiveness towards Feinor, they had never truly recognized him as one of their own. He had always been an outsider, and his only protection had been Skirn. The leader had taken an interest in him when he had been born, thus Feinor had lived with him since, and he couldn't imagine life differently. Skirn knew how the other wolves felt, and did everything within his power to prevent it. In the end, though, he could only protect Feinor.

Feinor, it would be best if you stayed behind, said Rin, a She-wolf with whom he had become friends. He looked at her questioningly, not understanding why she had suggested so. He finally relented, and nodded his head in acceptance. After Rin left, he looked down, drooping his head to show his disappointment. He wanted to show his loyalty to his pack, but he was never let out of camp. Feinor looked at the trees, admiring their serenity.

If only things were always peaceful, like nature, he wished silently. He watched as most of the pack assembled in the clearing, while those who were too old or expecting or nursing pups stayed behind. He saw them charge into the forest undergrowth, and disappear into the shadows. He saw Skirn hesitate, and watched him approach Feinor.

Dont worry, Feinor, stay and protect the camp, he said, as if he had sensed Feinor's thoughts. Minutes faded into hours as he awaited their return. It was nearly dawn when he heard he howls and yelps arising from the forest. Immediately alert, he looked around wondering what actions to take. I cant just stay here and do nothing, he decided irrationally. He ran into the forest, headed towards the epicenter of the dissonance.

Feinor arrived at the scene, the blood of both human and animals alike ran thick on the ground. He stood for a moment, dazed by the atrocious sight. In his rage, he charged at his own kind, who were just as shocked. In a flurry of blows, he took down each of the remaining men, leaving them unconscious on the forest floor. For a second, he marveled at his strength, but the moment soon dissipated when he saw Skirn lying limp on the ground with a knife through his stomach. Rushing to his leader's side, he watched helplessly as he could do nothing to end his suffering. Then he heard him whisper, Feinor, you are the only one who can help us. You are the Ameska. Animal Friend.

What do you mean? Feinor asked, both confused and desperate.

Without answering his question, he rasped, Go to my den and take the egg. He paused to take a breath, and then continued, All will become clear in time. As he finished, his leader faded away into the unknown, leaving Feinor helpless and bewildered in the middle of a tragedy. He fell to his knees, in tears. “Just like in my dream,” he whispered to himself.