Neighbouring a domain of misfortune exists a peaceful place known as the Cavern of Arrival. This self-contained ecosystem is home to fascinating flora that has grown to rely upon magical energy in place of the long-forgotten sun. One particular species of moss took such sentiment further and evolved to begin emitting rich light across the cavern, enabling members of the animal kingdom to grace this once quiet paradise. Those brought here are forever changed by magic, its very presence driving evolution in wild directions. Creatures once servants to instinct now command higher-order thought and intelligence to aid in their survival. Under layers of foreign flora, the gateway to a most horrendous place, the Tower of Exile, resides. This ancient door, which has played host to fantastical inscriptions, has slowly begun to awaken for the first time in decades.
With the advent of night, slumber replaces activity for a vast majority of those inhabiting the cavern. However, before the ancient door, where most intelligent life avoids, a new light creeps forth. Contrasting the usual warmth falling from above, this light provides the unmistakable cold of emptiness. The once vibrant flora's beauty is lost as it withers away. Now free from obstruction, the mystical inscription's light travels freely and centres on a patch before the gateway. From the light wafts two contrasting columns of fog, one a violent crimson and the other a gentle gold. The two once distinct begin to mix. The body of a young man materialises from the intertwining fog, his pale features and hollow heart the result of the opposing fogs neutralising. Gracefully, with naught but a soft thud, the fog-born joins the cavern's peaceful slumber.
Warmth spreads throughout the Cavern of Arrival, urging once-unmet eyes to open for the first time. The empty one's eyes open without any real thought, allowing the sight of rocky ceilings to invade his senses. Despite the unfamiliar sight, there was no panic rising from within but rather an odd compliance. He neither liked nor disliked what he saw but rather simply rose to his feet. Distantly, he took in the beautiful grasslands decorated with fantastical flowers, yet felt no semblance of emotion. Without so much as a thought, he begins walking through these vast fields. The discomfort swelling from his feet nor the occasional insect on his skin, does not affect his constant pace as he ventures into the ever-stretching wilderness.
The listless man's responseless mind forces his exhausting body to continue forth even under the watchful gaze of a lurking predator. Eventually, the pleasant rays above begin to vanish one by one as night envelops the expansive wilderness. Nevertheless, he would've kept walking forward if not for the fur-bound creature deciding to block his way. His empty eyes meet those of the cautious predator, causing something new to occur. Something deep within his brain begins to move as his first thought forms in his head. It was in no way a profound realisation but rather a single word. Wolf. The next action he took startles the creature as he begins to walk right past it. This strange turn of events causes the wolf to take an interest in the boy, and it prepares to capture instead of kill.
Even if he had the time to react, there was no motive to do so. The boy's view of the world flips as the wolf hoists his body onto its soft back. Without even a moment to observe, not even to catch his breath, the pair was off at high speeds. The once slow sights pass by in a blur as the wolf darts off at speeds that embarrass his walk. Soon enough, the high speeds cause the boy to begin slipping off his new met abductor. It would happen any moment; he would tumble down to the ground and continue his unresponsive walk. Just as this event was about to come to fruition, his hands latched on, his mind having decided that his body's current situation was preferable. He did not consider where he was being taken or why but simply surrendered to the comfort his body had yearned for.
When the time comes for the sudden ride to slow to a halt, the boy's grip is not strong enough to prevent him from being flung. He soars like a ragdoll through his oddly long fall and watches as he lands not on the grass but rather further into a deep, dark hole. Towering above him, his fluffy kidnapper stares at him before heading elsewhere. Left in a hole with no way out, he seemingly decides there is no point in rising to his feet. Meanwhile, the wolf that abducted him heads north towards an unbelievably ginormous tree in the distance. They have concluded that their current situation is too unusual decides to report their findings to a more senior member of the pack.
As the wolf approaches what appears to be a crack in a small mountain ridge, a voice calls out to him.
"Beowl, how goes your hunt?"
He looks up and sees one of his seniors, his large frame and bulky muscles a testament to a might far beyond his own.
"I found something strange in the forest," begins Beowl as he explains the situation in greater detail. The wolf standing guard wears a twisted expression after hearing the situation. Having no answer to his junior's predicament, he advises Beowl to ask around the den. With a polite nod to the entryway guard, he enters and begins thinking about who to ask. He decides to ask one of the hunting parties, as their knowledge of the wilderness is a cut above.
Sometime later, Beowl manages to find the hunting squad led by Commander War Wolf Rawl. He hesitates for a second as he remembers what someone once told him. The members of War Wolf Rawl's hunting party are all battle-crazed meatheads. Before being able to decide whether to ask or leave, one of them calls out to him.
"What's with the tense expression, youngling! Did you run across something too strong or something?" The deep voice came from Fangor, a wolf covered in large battle scars. There was no longer a chance to walk away. Left with no other choice, Beowl once again explained what he saw in the wilderness today. Unlike when he was talking with the guard earlier, the sheer number of questions begins to overwhelm him. Was it strong? Did it get away? Where is it now? Questions came quicker than he could finish properly explaining. Without warning, the questions ceased as darkness fell over them.
Towering over Rawl's hunting squad, centring around Beowl stood a truly titanic creature. Its magnificent fur shimmers in the light while it looks down as if waiting for something. The wolves below swiftly line up behind Fangor and lower themselves not out of fear but respect. Before them stood no ordinary wolf but their pack's everlasting leader, the Divine Wolf Scrowl.
"Speak Fangor, for what cause do you hound this young one?" comes an unexpectedly soothing voice possessing both absolute authority and overflowing warmth.
After taking time to properly collect himself, Fangor responds, "My Lord, I saw this young wolf Beowl seemingly searching for aid. Following my nature, I approached to address his concerns," subtly gesturing to Beowl prostrating further back. Scrowl's demeanour signals for Fangor to continue. "My Lord, he tells of encountering a strange creature beyond my knowledge," he reports, trying carefully to not stumble over the words. A hint of intrigue appears in their leader's deep eyes, which drift upward to catch Beowl's reflection.
The gathered hunting party begins to disperse in response to their leader's cue, creating a clear path before Beowl. With just a few steps, Scrowl stands before a trembling Beowl, who is visibly shaken by the sudden attention.
"Child, there is no cause for fear. Tell me of this creature you encountered, and I shall rest your unease stemming from uncertainty." Scrowl leans down expectantly, waiting for the young one's nerves to settle.
Gathering his thoughts, Beowl begins, "Today I encountered a creature possessing four limbs, only two of which were used to walk." He continues his explanation in extensive detail before finishing, "I've trapped it nearby."
The lengthy explanation appears to have interested Scrowl, who commands, "Beowl, bring this creature before me at waking light tomorrow," before parting to attend business elsewhere.
Beowl could only think of how imposing their pack's leader was during his walk back. Never in his life had he felt such a presence. Arriving at the hole, he looks down to check on the strange creature. The sight sends a shiver along his spine. The boy lies flat with an unmoving gaze. His chest barely rises between breaths. Insects and filth ignore him, as if perfectly natural. Sickness swells in Beowl's stomach, unease consuming his mind. What is this thing? Is it truly alive? His hesitation is broken when the boy's eyes drift as if noticing something. Opposite the boy lies a neat pile of foreign material. Beowl slowly slides down cautiously and paws at the pile. It unfolds into two loose objects. The odd garments appear to roughly match the strange creature's frame. The young wolf is left with fresh questions.
The mixture of anticipation for the meeting and the sickness from the unreactive boy consumes Beowl's mind. When he eventually woke to prepare himself for the meeting, his body may have rested, but his mind certainly hadn't. Groggily, he carries himself over to the hole where the boy still stares thoughtlessly as if no time has passed. Presenting something like this to their exalted leader, covered in filth, would be unacceptable. Beowl glances upward at the lightless ceiling. There was still time to cleanse this creature in the nearby river. To soil his fur by carrying it again was not a pleasant thought. However, the idea of presenting this to Scrowl was far worse. Following a heavy sigh, Beowl slides down to grab the boy so he can start preparing them both.
Beowl could only describe washing the creature as a struggle. To begin, when thrown into the shallow water, it nearly drowns itself. It doesn't clean itself or move into a more convenient position. The only stroke of luck was that when Beowl goes to wash himself, the boy starts walking behind him. No longer burdened with having to carry it, Beowl arrives at the entrance to the wolf cove. Waiting there was Fangor, who upon seeing Beowl's calls out.
"Youngling! What took ya so long?" He approaches the pair and begins checking out the unusual creature, "It really ain't like anything I've ever seen. Doesn't look strong either."
Surprised by his unexpected presence, Beowl questions, "Fangor, why are you here?" he quickly looks to the clearing and notices a guard "You're not on guard duty today, right?"
"I'm here to escort ya through, ain't that kind of me? You don't want to be stopped by every curious onlooker and be late for your audience!" boastfully exclaims Fangor. Moved by the unexpected gesture, Beowl thanks his senior as the trio enters the cove.
Beowl hadn't thought of it before Fangor brought it up, but they really are getting the odd look. Parents avert the eyes of their children with impromptu distractions. The usual lush surroundings and unique wolf-made caves perched on cliffs feel more intimidating than usual. Occasionally, warriors size up the unknown walking by, only stopping when noticing Fangor. Beowl's ears twitch as the quiet gossip begins to spread, causing him to lower himself out of embarrassment. The presence of the boy has transformed walking through their colony from peaceful to nerve-racking. Glancing over to the seemingly careless Fangor, Beowl internally thanks him once again. Many footfalls later, they enter the sanctuary where Scrowl resides. He hasn't been here before. The scent of water in the air, the absence of adrenaline-inducing activity. Fangor's reassuring footsteps fade away. From here on, Beowl and the boy walk alone.