Moonsong and Wolfstep Chapter 1 (Reupload)

Chapter 1: Children, While Edible, Should Not Be Eaten

An ashen wolf in spring dashed through a forest still clad in the snow-white remnants of winter, hunting for life to hunt and feed upon.

A harsh winter had caused it to grow lean, but the wolf had still endured the long sleep far better than most of its kind. Indeed, if its brethren were to see it now, most would think that it was in the midst of preparing for winter instead of just recovering from it.

A thick gray coat with black tips at the ears and tails, the wolf moved smoothly through the melting snow. Survival was a never-ending task that involved the careful balancing of gathering the resources to live upon and rest, and right now, the wolf was searching for food. An odd berry bush had been a nice snack, and it had found a few voles and shrews coming out of the snow sleepily, but it was searching for something more substantial and there was a faint scent of… milk in the air.

Padding towards a fallen tree, the wolf found a woven basket, rocking slightly in a hollowed out nook. Pacing around it, the wolf sniffed at the sniffling thing swaddled in cloth and surrounded by herbs.

It looked like food, but the herbs made it smell bad. The wolf debated on whether or not to eat the thing. Watching it wriggle upon, the wolf decided to ask for help.

FOOD?

No. It’s a baby.

This was the wolf’s secret. While instincts as old as the first beasts guided the wolf’s basic movements, trickery and cleverness was humanity’s domain. And a Human Soul resided within the wolf.

Why a wolf’s body housed a Human soul was a question for the Heavens, but the wolf did not care. The Human Soul very much did care, but had long resigned itself to this prison.

Out of curiosity for the human, out of instinct for the beast, the two halves of the wolf worked together to survive. While in the wilderness, the wolf was in command, but upon encountering hunters and entering villages, the human guided the movements, planning three steps ahead whilst the instincts would have sputtered at one.

An uneasy trust was held. A human mind was not meant to dwell in a beast. A beast’s body was not meant to hold a human. Conflict arose, from wishing to cook and not having the ability to, to cringing at the violence inherent to nature, conflict arose, but both sides, beast and human endured.

Such inner conflict had caused it to be shunned by its original pack long ago, and the wolf had almost died in those first harsh, lonesome days. Eventually though, eventually, the wolf adapted and both halves worked together.

The beast and human demurred and debated on what to do with this… thing swaddled in cloth and abandoned.

PUP? The wolf asked again. It didn’t look furry enough to be a wolf pup, but the Human Mind thought it was a pup, so it… could be one? The Human Mind had been wrong before and sometimes it was better to trust the Beast’s Instincts for guidance.

If that’s what you want to call it. Somebody abandoned the poor thing. Terrible stuff. Hopefully somebody comes by and picks it up soon.

The baby opened its eyes. Blinking blearily without true understanding, it wriggled, struggling against the tight confines of the cloth swaddling it. When it could not escape, it let out a thin, weak wail. Not strong, not loud, but certainly enough to be irritating to those with keen hearing.

Flinching back, ears flicking, the wolf growled, NOISY.

Huh? Oh, right. The baby’s crying. Makes sense. It’s all alone. Bit soft though.

WANT NOISE STOP.

Can’t exactly stop a baby from crying. It’s what babies do. Try and comfort it?

Annoyed by the sound, still tired from journeying through the woods, the wolf remembered why it had been traveling when its stomach clenched in pain.

HUNGRY.

What? No, seriously, what?

Pacing around the baby, the wolf sniffed once, twice, thrice, cringing each time at the pungent smell of the herbs. Still, those were easily ignored and the scent of milk promised soft meat from this baby.

NOT PUP, the wolf ultimately decided.

…I don’t like this train of thought.

HUNGRY. NOT PUP. FOOD.

Fucking knew it. Knew I wouldn’t like this.

Just because one could endure a situation did not mean it was always tenable. Sometimes, it just meant that it had not reached the boiling point. For this wolf, that boiling point had been touched, but never tipped.

Until now.

The cruelty of Samsara is that the past life is erased. The kindness is that the past life is forgiven. The morality of a human could never be, should never be applied to a beast. Karma was measured differently on the various levels of life. To force the sensibilities of a human onto a beast was tragedy transcendent.

As it was, the human mind had been fading, pieces and parts lost everytime the beast forced the concession of certain acts in the name of survival, wear and tear eroding that sense of self to fit the body proper. Here and now, what happened next could force the wolf to become nothing more than mere beast as the human mind killed itself in grief.

Winter was ending, the wolf was hungry, and there was food to eat, swaddled in cloth and smelling of milk.

Opening its mouth, the wolf lunged forward to--

DEVOUR THE--

The wolf found its jaws snapping closed.

No.

Trying again, the wolf opened its mouth to--

DEVOUR--

The wolf found its head jerked to the side.

No.

Growling, the wolf was determined to--

DEVO--

This time, the wolf could not even open its mouth.

And I said no.

Trying once more, the wolf--

DE--

The beast found its control completely stolen as the body was jerked so hard to the right that it slammed its head into the wall. Forced to lean against, the wolf whined in pain as its mind split into two, the Beast’s Instincts and a Human Mind warring with one another.

For the past year, I have been stuck being dragged about this body by your instincts. You’ve kept us alive, for sure. Running, hiding, foraging, you’re good at all of that. But I still remember that time you made us eat our own shit. Holy shit, do I remember that time we ate our own shit.

If a breath could be taken in a mindscape, the following silence would have been a fine example.

I remember fighting and losing against you over that, but I’m not losing this fight.

NO DEVOUR?

Absolutely not.

These words weren’t spoken. None of them had been spoken. They were mere impressions, mere ideas sent to one another. The beast’s thoughts were simpler but thicker. The human’s thoughts were thinner but more complex.

HUNGRY.

And in this war of wills, the human laid down one non-negotiable truth.

Then we starve. I refuse to kill a child, a human child.

Growling and barking, the wolf paced in circles, biting at an invisible enemy, trying to hurt itself as its selves fought for dominance. It would’ve been comedic if the stakes were not so tragic. All the while, the child wailed softly.

MUST SURVI-

I have been in a hell of a cosmic comedy with you, a prisoner in a body not mine. I don’t know how long I can control this, but I will drag us off a cliff and break these legs of ours. I will lie and wait for the crows to come gather around our living corpse, and I will let myself be devoured before I kill a child.

The Beast’s Instincts pushed back, fighting for control, but the Human’s Mind forced the body they shared to crawl with clear intent to find a place to die. Bestial as the Instincts were, it knew, no, it learned how cold the madness and will of that Human Mind was.

So help me, you fuck up of a body-mate, we are not eating the damn kid. I’d rather die.

So Beast and Human fought in the mindscape for control.

The Human Mind had the will to control the body. The Beast’s Instinct had the innate skill to use it with grace. Previously, this was why the Human Mind had surrendered for so long, but to seek death was not difficult, merely a forceful wait.

When the Human Mind finally lost control and the Beast’s Instincts guided the body back to the baby, the Human Mind redoubled its fight, struggling with everything it had, tossing a leg out of alignment to break the stride, forcing the body to bite its own tongue, it harangued the wolf’s attempt to return to the baby..

Despite the struggle, the wolf stood over the baby and… laid down to curl around it, shielding the baby from the cold. Somehow, someway, the child quieted, comforted by the warmth of another, unaware of how close death had been.

NOT FOOD… PUP?

…You know what? Close enough.

That settled, the wolf began to groom the child with its tongue, finding comfort in its small giggles and then sleepy yawns. Lick upon lick, Human and Beast found peace with one another, slowly merging together once more, deeper than before to become a wolf…. and then more than a wolf.