AngelsAreComing

Red & Wolf Backstory

Wolf:

Long ago, a hunter who went by the name of Wolf had dared to hunt in a forest occupied by a witch. Once he was discovered, the witch was very angry at him for killing one of her deer, which she had enchanted to be many unnatural and mysical colors. For revenge, she cursed him to be the wolf he always bragged of being; he had bright red hair before, so his wolf form was red-furred. He was not used to the intense emotions and urges of a wolf, however, so he could not control his bloodlust at first, and he killed another of the witch's deer within a few weeks. The witch saw that she had made a mistake in letting him continue to be a predatory animal, so she cursed him to be as still and cold as stone forever, locked as a sculpture on a ruined, crumbling church and never able to experience the heat of the hunt ever again. He was made of stone and marble, and his green eyes, previously' vibrant with life, were clear-cut cold emeralds, sparking with something other than life and optimisim.

He stood on that mossy wall for over a century, with only his mind to keep him occupied. He went slightly crazy with the eternity of no change- until he met the statue. She was in the shape of a human woman, and if anyone's eyes looked upon her she would turn to stone; except for him. He had no real eyes, so he saw her in her true, unfrozen state; fast and moving and beautiful. The statue knew of his curse and his nature, so she talked with him constantly, knowing that even though he could not move or reply, he could see her and hear her, which no one else could. And somehow, she could sometimes understand his feelings in reply, for reasons neither of them understood. One day, though, she proposed to touch his stony fur. She said that she didn't know exactly what would happen, except that he would change, and probably go back in time. She said that she felt selfish, for he gave her the one thing she thought she could never have; communication, and for someone to see her and hear her. But she had never been able to give him anything but her company and her stories. Wolf heard her, and was willing, for he had no desire to remain unchanged for eternity, even if he would not get to see his friend again. Slowly, the statue reached out to touch his fur... Suddenly, he flashed back through years, time passing in reverse.

He found himself standing in the forest. It seemed about ten years earlier, but he couldn't be sure. He wondered what would happen if he went to see his past self, then only frozen in stone for a few decades, but he decided not to risk altering the timeline. He blinked; he could blink! He could move! Sadly, he realized that since he was real again, though he still retained some of his stony qualities, he would never be able to see the statue's true form ever again. But he wondered what had become of her, in the future.

Back, forward in time, on the castle with the statue: Wolf didn't know it, but when he was transported back in time, he left something behind; an apple-sized chunk of his stone fur had broke off and stuck to the statue's finger, and when she squinted, the broken stone almost seemed to be in the vague shape of a tiny baby. The statue blinked, and the stone suddenly became more defined, magically molding into a miniature cherub. It's eyes were closed, and the statue knew that if she looked away and looked back and the baby's eyes were open, they would both be stone forever. So she kept her eyes locked on the infant statue, and flew quickly to a far corner of the forest and placed the baby down with it's face looking away. Then, tears in her eyes, she left as quickly as possible, all at once missing her friend, in awe of what they had created, and sad that she would not be able to stay with the child that had formed from their melded magic.

Back in the forest: Wolf went to a pool as soon as possible to see what he looked like. Alive, Wolf had pale green, steady eyes, and his fur, instead of turning back to red, had stayed cool gray like the stone and marble he was for so many years; it was dense and smooth, and it had a strange gleam like polished stone. Also, his movements seemed so smooth and calculated he looked like a living sculpture–if he stayed still, it almost looked like he had never come back to flesh and blood at all. He was disappointed, for he didn't feel like himself. Wolf also quickly realized that, with some effort, he could shift into his former, human form, though his skin was no longer warm and lightly tanned but pale and ashen, and his hair was as dark gray as his fur with streaks of raven black, hanging in loose waves to his chin. His features were sharper and more sculpted, and rough scruff gave his face a stony look as well. His bright green eyes were the most colorful thing about him. His human form seemed to be even more changed than his wolf self, and it hurt him to see what he had lost. So, he chose to remain a wolf most of the time. Luckily, though, after a few days his fur became a bit fluffier, and his eyes became more alive and a brighter and darker green, but his other stonelike features remained. Feeling a bit more like his passionate, optomistic self, himself, though still a wolf, he began rebuilding skills that he had lost in his century as a stone. After a few weeks of readjusting to life as a living, breathing, creature, he set out to search for the witch.

Wolf didn't know what he wanted with the witch, only that he knew he hated her and he needed to face the the forest, Wolf noticed something strange; since he had become a statue and was placed on the castle, where he couldn't see much of the woods, the forest had seemingly become brighter, and a small cottage had been built where there had been none before; the witch didn't allow anyone to live in her forest. He was curious to look closer, wondering just who the witch would let stay on her land, but he resolved to move on and find the witch's house. He found it quickly, for it hadn't moved since he last saw it, about a mile and some from the house. It was not as imposing as before, made to look deceptively homey, but the apparent warmth of the house seemed fake to him. A billowy, opaque smoke was wafting from the window, and he could identify a pungent smell when it passed over his muzzle. With his sensitive wolf nose, he recognized it instantly–sharp and sickly sweet, with an unpleasant electric feeling in the air anywhere near it: Magic. If the witch was doing something magical, he didn't want to confront her immediately; he would wait until she was finished, her magic momentarily weakened. So he padded at the edge of the path, out of sight.

After a couple minutes of walking, Wolf noticed an unexpected smell. It seemed like a human was nearby, but the witch had never let humans into her forest! He rushed into his human form, then stepped behind a bushy tree to observe. Soon, he sensed movement on the path, and then a flash of red–he started as a girl strode lightly and confidently down the path, which he suddenly noticed had a few old imprints of the same small feet from an earlier walk. Scolding himself for being so unobservant, he returned his focus on the girl.

She was small, petite, with a pale face indicating that she must rarely leave the shadows of the forest. He noticed some deep, shiny hair poking out her hood, assuming it was raven black until his eyes focused and he noticed the stunningly deep, garnet sheen of a dark red. But the girl's more noticeable feature was her hood and cloak–a rich scarlet. The hood covering her hair gave Wolf a jolt of memory, his heart heavy as he recalled the joyous days when he had a shock of red hair on his brow. Fingering his think, wolf-gray hair, he stared at the girl, unable to look away. Then a sudden realization hit him–she was on the path to the witches house! Pushing away the emotion her cloak had unwelcomely revived, he quickly trotted down to the path, knowing he had to do something, even if he didn't know exactly why.

The girl jumped as she saw the movement out of the corner of her eye. As she turned to look at him, Wolf quickly bent down and plucked an unnaturally deep orange daisy; one of the changes the witch had made to the forest. And he looked up at her, suddenly afraid, for he had never spoken to anyone in centuries, unless his silent conversations with his statue-friend counted. Her face was older than he had expected, probably around 17 years of age. She had tilted, shining silver eyes, paired with dark red eyelashes and small, pouty lips the color of her cloak. With a wide, sharp jaw and an upturned nose, she had a surprisingly intimidating expression.

Opening her mouth, she protested, "who are you and how are–" As her accusatory eyes looked up towards his face, she stopped, her gaze flickering with an unreadable expression to the top of his head, then back down to his face. The girl–or young women?–parted her lips as if to speak, then closed them. Confused, Wolf lifted his hand to his hair, flinching as he felt the soft fur of his canine ears on his human head. At the same time he knew that he must also still have his narrow pupils and sharp teeth; he had forgotten that he had retained some of his wolfish features to retain his inhuman senses to better observe in hiding. Slowly lowering his hand, he gave the girl an embarrassed half-smile, holding out his excuse; the flower that he had hurriedly plucked from the side of the road. The nearly-glowing orange, looking so bright and alive, looked even stronger against his pale, ashen skin.

"The orange would compliment your hair," he spoke slowly, his voice low and rough with disuse. It felt like his throat and tongue were still stone, and they were slowly cracking to let out a voice he had almost forgotten. Again bittersweet memories resurfaced, of times when he had sung joyfully after a successful hunt with his hunting brothers, bellowing out notes he knew were wrong, but enjoying singing out his spirit anyways. To him, they always sounded more beautiful than any paid singer at a faire. The girl raised her slender fingers to the flower, hesitating as she noticed his long, rough nails, but then finally taking it. Rubbing one of the silky petals between her fingers, she looked back up at him warily. Wolf had a sudden sense of self-consiousness, realizing that he was still wearing the thin, tattered wolf-skin that he had been wearing when the witch cursed him. He tried to glance away, but the girl defiantly refused to break eye contact.

"Why?" She asked simply. Wolf looked down at her, feeling uncomfortable to be the one confronted, instead of the other way around. He was used to being the hunter.

"Why what?" He countered, slightly confused. The girl waved her hands vaguely.

"Why... Everything." She stared up at him with a hard gaze. "The approaching me in a forest where there isn't supposed to be anyone else, the flower, the, the ears and the teeth!!" She gestured wildly, her voice rising. Hesitantly, Wolf answered her.

"Well, I'm... New to the forest. But I was here a very... VERY long time ago." He gripped his hands behind his back. "And I gave you the flower because I used to have red hair, and... I miss it. So I was wondering why you weren't showing it off." He felt a clenching in his stomach, realizing that his statement had more truth in it than he had intended. "And... Have you noticed how many of the animals and the plants here look unnatural?" The girl nodded warily. "Well, I guess you could say that I'm one of those unnatural animals." Hoping that she wouldn't ask for specifics, he quickly added, "so can you answer some questions of mine now? Like your name. Last time I was here, no one was allowed to live here. And what are you doing along in the woods?"

Standing tall, the girl said "My birth name doesn't matter. My mother has always called me Red." She adjusted her cloak. "And my mother was born here, as was my grandmother. And I am going to see her. She says she has something for me."

"Well... Be careful." Wolf said slowly. "There are dangerous... Things in these woods." He wondered where the girl's grandmother lived; he hadn't smelled anything else humanlike past the witch's house.

Red shrugged. "I'll be fine. My grandmother tells me that if I wear this cloak, the animals won't bother me. She says that red is the color of a hunter, so they are afraid." Wolf had a small jolt, remembering his days of hunting with his red hair and, later, red fur. Suddenly she reached out, touching his hair. "And I think your hair looks fine as is." She pulled away her hand suddenly, though, eyes widening. "Wait... I... Think you still have some red in your hair?" She said hesitantly. Wolf reached up, pulling the strand of hair to his eyes, seeing a streak of red where he was sure he hadn't had before. But he looked up as Red continued, "Well... I must be off." Smiling confidently at him, Red turned, walking away so lightly it seemed like she was dancing. Wolf's eyes followed her until she disappeared from sight, wondering exactly what he should do with his newfound information. Realizing that it was already getting dark, he made a decision, shifting fully into a wolf and running to confront the witch.

Wolf arrived at the witches cottage, relived to see that the sickly sweet smell of magic had mostly faded from the air. Slowly stalking up to the door, as camouflaged as possible, he shifted to his human form. Lifting his hand, his knuckle had barely grazed the door when it swung open, and Wolf found himself face-to-face with the creature that had populated his nightmares for centuries. She scanned him, bare feet to rough, textured hair, with her darkly gleaming eyes. She was in some sort of disguise, with her pale white witch-hair gathered under a bonnet, and her form, disfigured from her overuse of magic, was hidden under a clunky dress. But he could never forget her face. She gave him a slow smile, and he was unsure if he recognized him, for she had never seen him in his new human form. "Remember me?" He prompted hesitantly. "You'd think you'd recognize something you created." Her smile shifted to a smirk.

"Of course." the witch said smoothly. "I'm been expecting you... Just not so soon." Her countenance displayed no hint of unease, though Wolf was beginning to feel some himself. He shifted his weight, realizing that in all the years he had imagined and re-imagined his confrontation with her, he had never considered that she would be so calm and strong. She was the only thing that had ever made Wolf feel like the prey rather than the hunter, and while he had resolved to never feel that way again, she was doing what she always did; making him feel small and powerless.

In his frustration and rampant emotions, Wolf suddenly growled, wolf teeth emerging and pupils slitting as he jumped at his enemy with claws extended. When he landed on her in full wolf form, knocking her onto her back, he bit at her neck, but he somehow his teeth clamped down on air. He swiveled his head towards her head, which had moved inhumanly fast, and saw her confident smirk still plastered to her face. With a snarl of rage, he slashed out at her head, only for the witch to push him aside and off of her, and his claws only cut her sleeve, grazing her arm. The witch paused, staring with only a mildly annoyed gaze at a minuscule bead of dark, nearly black blood slowly forming on her skin.

Quickly jumping up and crouching as he faced the witch, Wolf bunched his claws to leap, but suddenly a large, unfinished door leaning against the wall flew towards him, glowing with magic, and slammed into his side. With a yelp of surprise, Wolf was flung into a small, dark closet, the door without a knob, lock, or hinge smashing into place after him and encasing him in darkness. A small sliver of light shone from under the door, and he quickly lay on his side and shoved his face into the crack. He could see inside, and he desperately scrabbled at it with his claws, but they didn't even mark the surface of the door; it still radiated a faint aura of magic, and Wolf knew that trying to break down the door would be just as ineffective. He also quickly realized that he was unable to shift to human. Whimpering as he saw the witch quickly mend the only tiny scratch he had been able to give her, he collapsed and let his paws fall to the ground with despair. And he lay there, with nothing to do but watch the person who had stolen his life continue on with theirs like nothing had happened.

Meanwhile, in the forest...
Red strode quickly along the path, watching the nearly-dark sky with worry. She didn't want to be late! Soon, though, her mouth creased into a smile as the cluttered little cottage of her grandmother came into sight through the trees. She sped up, almost running up the shallow wooden steps of her grandmother's house. Red held her fist up to the door, hesitating only as she noticed a cool light shining from the windows. She had never seen candles without a warm yellow flame, and she wondered how light in the house could be as cold as starlight. Shaking away her thoughts–her grandmother always told her she overthought everything–she gave the heavy door 3 loud knocks.

Inside, the witch's head shot up at the sound of knocking. Could Red be here? She wasn't expecting her until tomorrow! And Red had spent the day walking through the forest... She slowly turned her head towards the closet with eyes widened with fear for the first time in centuries. Could Red have encountered...? Yes, yes she most certainly could have. Pacing with worry, the witch's thoughts tumbled darkly in her mind. Her power was strong, but she had made a mistake in trying to alter humans the way she altered animals... it had damaged Red's mother, but had turned Red into something even worse. Something that had magic of its own, changed by the girl's nature into something that could undermine the witch's own magic. The witch had let her live because she was more useful than harmful before, but now the risk was too great. She first needed to see if she could turn Red against the wolf, and if so, make her leave, but if she could not, Red would have to disappear more permanently; she would be to dangerous. With a morbid look on her face, the witch waved her hand jerkily, causing all the least valuable things in the room to silently fly around, knock against eachother, and break, as if there had been a dangerous fight. She dimmed the lights, and as a final touch, tore her clothing. The witch lay down in bed and waved a hand over her face, and it morphed into pale, wolflike features. Grabbing the covers of her bed with newly-formed claws and setting down her shaggy head on the pillow, a witch in wolf's clothing waited for her prey.

Red waited outside for a bit before hearing a weak voice call from inside the house. "Come in, dear!" A rough, strange voice resembling her grandmother's called from inside. Red's brow furrowed with confusion as she slowly opened the door stepped inside; something was wrong. Taking small steps, she hesitantly wandered through the room to look at her grandmother's bed in the corner. She pulled back the bed curtain to see her grandmother's face darkened by a shadow. But it looked off. Though the wide frames of her glasses, high collar of her shirt, and pulled down bonnet obscured most of her features, the strait, long nose and wide mouth were inexplicably not her grandmother's.

"What is wrong, dear?" The mouth said slyly. "Sorry if I look or sound off, dear, but I am a little sick." The corners of the mouth lifted slightly to briefly expose sharp teeth, and Red stared at them, an uneasy frown on her own face. Trying to confirm what she saw, she looked closely through her grandmother's thick glasses, stepping back as large eyes and slitted pupils came into view.

"Why... why are your eyes so big, Grandmother?" Red asked slowly. The smile only seemed to widen as it answered.

"Why, the better to see you, my dear!" It crooned in a low voice. Red's eyes flickered to up to the bonnet, only to see the gray tips of furry ears poking out slightly.

"And, ah, how... Large your ears are!" Red continued. Practically laughing, it answered quickly,

"Oh, the better to hear you!" One ear twitched, and Red flinched. She knew who she was looking at, but she couldn't believe that the stranger she had met on the road, though certainly sketchy, would do such a thing.

"I... I know you're not my grandmother." The creature's smile faded at her words, but Red thought she saw a new glimmer of what seemed like triumph in it's eyes, which didn't make any sense. She started backing away slowly, her gaze flickering around the room. It landed on a door, which might be a better escape than the front door, for it didn't have a knob on the outside. The creature's eyes slanted to where Red was looking, and it quickly stood up with a savage smile, bonnet falling off its head.

"Well of course, my dear. So you can leave now, or..." It bared it's teeth with a smile that was now closer to a grimace, "die." Red almost tripped backwards as she started moving her feet faster. But suddenly, as she was staring in fear at the creature, she realized that something was off. It's hair was shades gray and marble, but it lacked the vibrant red streak that had she had touched when she had first left him. Stopping her movement, her mouth opened in shock as she saw a glowing green eye from under the door.

"Wolf..." Red whispered. Wolf's copycat cocked its head, trying to decipher what she meant. With a rush of adrenaline and an intensity of emotions that surprised herself, she grabbed at the first thing she could–a large, dark metal spoon that had been sitting inside a matching pot on a dark fire, still warm from recent use. She held it up, barely registering that it had a faint glow from whatever was inside the pot. Red ran forward, the creature's eyes widening as it saw the spoon, and she slammed it into the creature's head. It screamed out in pain, and it was as if the spoon had burned it, even though it seemed only slightly warm to Red. Dropping the spoon, Red leaped forward and punched the creature in the face. As it stood stunned, Red grabbed its face, trying to find a way to knock it out completely. But then she stopped, and pulled her hand away.

The creature was Wolf no longer, but her grandmother. Gasping in horror, Red stumbled backwards. Her grandmother's eyes opened, and she saw that the faint glow that had always occupied them was faded; Red had never thought of it as unusual before, but now she realized that her grandmother looked more human now, if that was possible. Not knowing what to do, think, or feel, she could only watch in confusion as the lines in her grandmother's facer deepened, further and further, sinking lower into her face until she was nothing but a gray skull. And then the skull, along with the rest of her skeleton, collapsed in on itself into ash.

Red crawled, numb, to the door. She put her face to the floor, and a bright green eye stared out at her from the darkness of the closet. She stood and grabbed the edge of the door, and as the glow that emitted from it faded, it slid easily away. The light fell on a wolf, crouched raggedly on the floor of the closet. He looked up at her with gleaming eyes, and as he stood, he was no longer a wolf–he was Wolf. Wordlessly, he wrapped his arms around her, hugging her small form to him. Bending his head down, he whispered, "Thank you".