In the spirit of that pun up there in the title:
Also, while Direwolves are probably best-known among the general public thanks to A Song of Ice and Fire (or least the Game of Thrones show), they are – or at least were – a real animal, though the real extinct animal’s name is written as two words, rather than one.
© J.B. Norman — Published by Emona Literary Services™
“Look at these claw-marks,” Apolline mutters, surveying the broken branches on the floor of the forest clearing and the trees with long gouges in their trunks.
She stands up and looks at the others.
“I think it’s obvious what our culprit is.”
“Yeah!” Roland agrees with a nod. “A Vampire!”
The grin on his face falters.
“Right?”
“No, Roland,” Alda tells her brother.
“A Mummy?” Roland offers.
The others stare blankly at him.
“Some… kinda… fish-guy?”
Alda sighs. “No, Roland.”
“Sir Roland,” Apolline says, with her typical Aurorean diplomacy and tact. “I do believe we are looking for a Dire Wolf.”
“Like… a…” Roland mutters, “Were-Dire Wolf?”
“Do you mean a Wilderling?” Lucia asks. As a Wilderling herself, she’s feeling that as an oddly personal insult.
“Do I?” Roland asks.
“A Dire Wolf would certainly explain everything that’s going on around Middlesbrooke,” Apolline muses. “The livestock being snatched. The horses being too afraid to go along the forest roads.”
“The big, wolf-looking the farmers have been saying they’ve seen in the night,” Roland offers.
“Well, yes. That is the rather most obvious sign,” Apolline concedes.
Petra happily rubs her blue, stony hands together. “A Dire-Wolf will be a most excellent test of our abilities,” the Half-Troll Amazon muses.
Maybe it’s just because she’s a cat, but Lucia can’t imagine a situation where she’d be excited to meet a giant wolf…
Roland turns to Apolline. “So, what’s the plan? How do we find the Dire-Wolf and what’s the best way to fight them.”
Apolline opens her mouth to speak, but Roland continues before she can respond.
“And,” he ventures. “Can we be sure he isn’t a Vampire?”
“Yes, Roland,” Alda says. “Animals can’t become Vampires.”
“What about a Mummy?”
“So,” Lucia says to Apolline, consciously choosing to pretend that Roland’s not there. “How do we find him?”
“Dire Wolves are notoriously territorial,” Apolline says. “And it looks like he’s marked this clearing as his territory.”
“Is that what I’m smelling?” Lucia mutters.
“Actually. It may not be the best idea to be standing right in the middle of this clearing,” Apolline notes with a frown.
“I hear something,” Petra declares.
On the one hand, Alda has a natural instinct to shelter behind her brother. On the other hand, she’s been Roland’s sister long enough to know that whenever something happens, it usually happens to him. And so, he decides to take shelter behind Lucia.
The Wilderling woman puts a protective arm around Alda.
“I hear it, too,” Roland notes. He points to the group’s left.
Suddenly, there’s a rustle of leaves. A branch cracks. There’s a low growl from within the shadows of the trees. They catch a glimpse of bright, glowing eyes.
The Dire-Wolf leaps. From exactly the opposite direction as Roland is pointing.
It moves in a blur of grey, catching Roland and bearing him to the forest floor.
“Look,” Roland says, now wrestling with the Dire Wolf. “I found him!”
He tussles with the Dire-Wolf. He manages to pin its jaws shut, buying enough time to look questioningly up at Apolline.
“I’m not going to turn into a Werewolf now, am I?” he asks.
Alda sighs. “No, Roland.”
“Aww. That would be so cool.”
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