Cries of the Wolf

Cries of the Wolf

A wail cut through the cool night air, this was the day of his birth, Akodo Inuichi, wolf's blood. That cry, strong and seeking was what gave Inuichi his childhood name of pup and later would be a deciding factor in the choosing of his name. A long wail, calling out and feeling the world it entered. Meeting and reacting to its surroundings and returning with a knowledge that could only be passed on through such an interaction. Oh the cry of that wolf.

The air was still crisp and tonight another cry rung forth. This wail was cutting and strong. Not the cry of a babe but the cry of a cold winter's night as it looked down upon one who would claim its company, a silent form under a newly fallen crust of snow. The wolf looked down upon the bandit village, a snarl coming across his face as he looked at those who would defy bushido and the heavens. Silently, the wolf stole into the village, the snow crunching lightly beneath his paws. A patrol and a breath, one stolen another gone, laid to rest by the canine foe. Deeper into the village, a group of men around a fire, a whisper, a cry, guttural struggles and three more departed this world, their throats pierced by the fangs of the wolf. Then there was silence, and the wolf once more stole into the forests and the cries of the winter screamed on.

A whisper, a dream, calmly it stole through the forests as it sought that which was wanted by all. A stream, cool, running, cackling, fresh and untainted by the storms of creation. The wolf stopped for a breath to drink the nectar of the rocks. A rustle, the wolfs ears perk to attention as his eyes pierce the foliage. The rustle again, a crack, and the wolf is off, a bolt in shadows. Slowly a beast moved towards the water, its foul hooves digging away at the ground. The abomination from those who spilled blood dipped its head in towards the water. A speck, a flash in the corner of its eye, now pierced with the claw of the wolf. It’s hold true. The beast rears. The wolf its on its back, its teeth are at the beasts neck. A drop, a thud, and the beast is gone. The wolf steps back, cool, and then he is gone.

A small village, a festival brightens the night. The sounds of laughter, joy, goodwill ring into the darkness like bells for the lost and blind. A birth. The wolf stands by watching the events. A shout, a scream. A house is on fire. Raiders pour into the village like a breaking floodgate, a nightmare born upon the ground. Death, the merciless spreads her wings and baths her wrath upon the people. The wolf is there, the raiders have seen him. He has killed many. The raiders flee but the village no longer whispers. It is silent. It dies that day.

Yet again, the cries of the world found their way and their companion. Today, the cries of struggle, torment, pain, and bitter conflict fell upon the wolf. Calmly he stalked his prey, with agility born of nature and drive born of heaven he passed through the conflict. A foreign blood stood before him, a wicked blade in his hand. A breath, a cry, and another fell torn by the wolf. Still he moved forth, his eyes fire, his mouth formed for the coming destruction. The again, foreign blood stood before him, royal blood of those foul creatures. The wolf smiled the smile that only the hunter could produce. Cries, pain, the low rumble of combat, the silence, the silence that always came after one left to join death. The wolf stood atop the foreign blood, that royal blood and let forth a cry of victory. Triumph, dominion, power, raw power, those were the sounds of the cry. Again the wolf looked to the royal blood. Blood poured from that mans wounds. All he could utter was “who?”

“I am Akodo Inuichi, I am the wolf.”