by Cloe Cullen
Chapter Seven: Jorah
T hey spent the next hour hanging around that ledge, talking and telling tall tales about the past and about monsters that lurked in the dark night. Finn told the most tales, getting up to his feet and using his whole body to help visualize every scene and word that crossed his lips. Dancing like a madman, he began to even sing some parts, offering for the rest to join in.
So they did, letting their worries and stress melt away as the group moved their bodies, laughing and stumbling around each other, Finn continuing to tell his tales, mimicking the Seers’ old, weary method of preaching, moving like a rickety and bony elder. The sight was so comical that they all doubled-over in laughter, causing Nyx to accidentally stumble back after losing her footing.
Jorah caught her just before she fell hundreds of feet to her death below, seizing her wrist, her feet rooted to the ground, yet her body angled out over the vast nothingness beneath her. She simply stared in awe at Jorah’s reaction time, and he quickly pulled her up to safety and into his arms, her smaller frame crashing into his. She looked up at him, thankful and longing, but Jorah sighed and spun her into Keanu’s arms, who promptly picked her up, much to her dissatisfaction, and placed her as far from the ledge as possible.
Nyx fought off Keanu, tapping her foot on the sloped dirt trail, crossing her arms as she frowned at Jorah.
“Hey, don’t look at me like that,” Jorah began. “It was your fault to begin with, so how about a ‘thanks’ for saving your life?”
Nyx rolled her eyes, but eventually caved and smiled. “Fine, thank you. And thank you, Keanu, for so gently placing me away from another potential tumble.”
Keanu bowed gracefully with a sly smile, causing the rest of them to burst out once again in harmonious laughter.
Once their sweat covered their bodies, and chests heaved from the exhaustion of dancing, singing, and telling stories to each other nonstop, the group finally sat back down to look back out over the Oldwood forest miles below them. Just as it had an hour prior, the woodland swayed and moaned with the breezes that were sent down from the Northern Mountains. Endless tiny, dark shapes roamed and darted through the small clearings, and many flocks of various colored birds rose and soared from their perches on branches. Off to the side, some pebbles and rocks from a ridge on the mountain rolled down, almost crushing a family of what looked like deer below.
“It’s a dangerous world out there, isn’t it?” Nyx said, her eyes also glued to the deer below. “I mean, whether the clans of the forest...the Pack and Pride, right? Whether they’re friendly or not doesn’t change the fact that Vampires are still out there, right?”
“That’s a poor excuse for not making the leap to venture down,” Jorah said casually, lifting his gaze to the horizon beyond. Just barely could the edge of the Oldwood be seen from their tiny perch, though he couldn’t spy any big details. He wondered what the Blackwood really looked like now, after more than half a century of being in the Vampire’s control. Was it still charred and black, or had green sprouted ages ago, reanimating the Bear Clan’s former home? “Besides, whether there are still Vampires or not doesn’t matter.”
Remaining quiet, Nyx rose to her feet. “Either way, I believe it might be best for us to climb back up. The sun will probably set in another few hours, and the climb will take a little while. We can’t miss the clan meal tonight, or the Seers will throw our butts in the cave prisons again.”
Both Finn and Keanu agreed, stretching and rising to their feet, but Jorah persisted in staying still, content to stare out at the open world before him. It was so close...if he just descended a bit more, he’d be at the precipice of his world. Before the others had realized Jorah wasn’t following, he’d made up his mind.
“Jorah?” Nyx called. “Come on, we don’t have all day.”
Placing his hand on his knee and heaving himself up, he swiveled on his feet with a smile plastered to his lips, one that instantly made Nyx frown. “I’ll catch up. Just want to stay a bit longer, to think.”
Massaging her temples, Nyx nodded, knowing there wasn’t anything that would prevent him from staying. Finn and Keanu waved happily as they began their long climb back up the cliff face trail. “Don’t let the Vampires snatch you away, okay?” Finn called. Nyx shot Jorah a pleading look as she joined the other two, but ultimately sighed and focused on the trail up.
Jorah waited a little while before descending, watching the trio climb higher and higher until they were out of sight. Once he was sure they were gone, he hopped on the trail and proceeded to stroll down it. Honestly, at this point Jorah didn’t care how Dallan or the other Seers would react to him venturing so far off the Northern Mountains...not that they would even find out if he could help it. His heart pounded at the thought of what he could possibly end up seeing or touching or smelling once he got close enough to the forest floor.
What other kinds of animals grazed in the forest? What types of plants grew down here that couldn’t in the snow? Were Vampires in the forest? And what about the people of the forest, the Pack and Pride? Jorah wondered if he might meet some members, and whether they would lean towards hostility or pleasant introductions.
As he got closer to the foot of the mountain, his descent naturally became excited and energetic. He found himself going from a stroll to a hurried jog to a full-on sprint, kicking up dirt and blades of grass. To circumvent the trail and make his trip go faster, he slid down steep faces, the ground smooth thanks to the growing amount of grass. The ground rose to meet him, and soon enough Jorah found himself at the edge. Standing tall on a ridge just above the treeline, Jorah smiled from ear to ear, gazing around and forcing himself to stop and take it easy. He was here at the base of the Northern Mountains. No other bear shifter would have ever come down here. A rush of smells, sounds and sights came to greet him, enveloping his body and tickling his senses. Even the air warmed him from the frosted ground of the mountains. An itch urged him to press forward, to let himself loose and explore, but reason held him back. Even if he did venture out, he’d likely get lost without a guide, unable to make his way back; he’d never hear the end of that tale from Nyx, so he decided to simply skirt the forest and walk along the edge.
But soon enough painful shrieks cut his journey short. Freezing on the spot, Jorah went wide-eyed and perked up his ears to listen carefully. Howls and loud thuds breached the air, maybe a couple hundred feet away from him. Gulping, Jorah found himself walking towards the sounds, his feet moving on their own. The closer he came to the sounds, the louder and wilder they became, with whimpers and lashing sounds, multiple different kinds. The sounds of a fight! Jorah realized.
Jorah came upon a big open clearing not too far from where he had arrived at the base of the mountains. In it, about a dozen black-furred creatures fought what Jorah could only assume was a blonde wolf and a dark tawny wolf. Never had wolves crossed his eyes before, but based on Dallan’s descriptions and stories of the past, these were them. Crouching behind a bush that overlooked the scene, Jorah had a perfect view of the battle unfolding. The darker-furred wolves...and cougars, he supposed...could have only been Changelings.
Jorah fought hard not to gasp at the realization. Changelings? Here in the Oldwood? He’d thought the creepy stories Dallan had shared about the Vampires turning shifters into mad beasts were tall tales meant to keep him from wanting to venture down the mountain. So, his adoptive father didn’t lie after all.
The Changelings separated the two wolves, encircling and swiping at them. The two wolves were both bloody and bruised, but still fought wildly, eagerly. They were fighting for their lives, Jorah thought next. This wasn’t a battle, this was more of an execution.
Each hit clapping the wolves sent shudders up his body, guilt racking his mind from his safe spot behind the bush. Since the other Changelings hadn’t noticed him yet, he must have been far enough away for his scent to still be insignificant.
At first, Jorah was simply so enthralled by the struggle that
he couldn’t make up his mind on whether to intervene or simply watch. Save the two wolves or let them die. But then the blonde wolf began to lose its footing, stumbling and succumbing to the battering of the dark-furred beasts all around it. The tawny wolf was managing to hold its own, but upon seeing the blonde wolf fall, it went wild, thrashing and roaring and letting itself get injured just to place a foot in the blonde wolf’s direction. Clearly the blonde wolf meant something to the other.
Then the blonde wolf shifted back to its human form...no, not its, hers. The blonde wolf changed to a naked female, her blonde hair curling from her scalp, black and blue bruises littering her body. His body trembled at the sight of her. Curvy, fair skin shivered as she struggled to move, but ultimately found no strength remaining in her limbs. Even from this distance Jorah could see her eyes were a beautiful blue, deeper than the blue of the sky. The Changelings cackled as her head spun and fell to the ground, her bare chest heaving and her mouth agape.
The female shifter was like nothing he’d ever seen, and from that moment forward Jorah steeled himself for a battle, letting his mind focus and his body morph. Within moments, he grew into the shape of a gigantic brown bear, his feet carrying him forward just as the Changelings made their move to go in for the kill, the ground rumbling beneath him. Roaring a war cry, the Changelings snapped their heads up to see him just before he rammed into them and sent them all crashing into the ground. A few that managed to evade his initial attack lunged at him; anticipating the attack, Jorah spun with a massive paw, connecting with one cougar’s jaw and a wolf’s ribs, bones cracking under the power of his hits.
Puffing out air, Jorah stood protectively over the female shifter, watching the tawny wolf and other Changelings stare on in awe. Sensing Jorah was a friend, the tawny wolf used the advantage to sink his teeth into the neck of another Changeling, while three others set upon him. Jorah wanted to help, but the Changelings he’d thrown away now stalked back out to him, circling just as they had done to the blonde wolf.
He couldn't stay here. There was no way Jorah could protect the woman and fight this many at the same time; besides, his fighting skills were rusty. It wasn’t like there was anything to fight up on the Northern Mountains, save for small game and a goat or two.
So Jorah made the decision to focus on saving the female shifter. He roared a sorry to the wolf, hoping he’d understand, and scooped up the female shifter in his paws and threw her on his back. She must have been semi-conscious, because she latched onto his back hair, grabbing huge tufts with both hands. Good, Jorah thought. The woman was light and slender, easy to carry while on the run.
Eyeing an opening in the Changeling circle, Jorah roared once again and charged through, the other Changelings quickly running after him. The vicious, longing howls of the tawny wolf rang out behind him.
Jorah was fast, but the Changelings were faster, sprinting on either side of him and yapping and slapping their jaws together in a strange frantic melody. They’re hunting, Jorah realized. They’re hunting me! More than once Jorah turned to follow the dirt and gravel trail up the Northern Mountains, only to have to crack the bones of a Changeling standing in his way. Luckily the woman still clung to his back, her sharp breaths and aching moans showing her semi-conscious displeasure at the bumpy ride.
Just hold on a bit longer, Jorah thought as he bounded up the slopes, the steaming breaths of the Changelings still hot on his trail. One big wolf barreled up the side of a cliff face, using the side of its body to slam Jorah into another dirt wall. Because his movement was now inhibited, Jorah rose up on his hind legs to protect the woman from any Changeling strikes, but that backfired quickly as two cougars sunk their teeth in his hind legs, causing Jorah to roar out at the flaring pain. He used his front paws to smash down on the two cougars, crushing them and ending their lives.
Another first, though Jorah wasn’t one to celebrate the death of any creature. Free, he continued his ascent, feeling the woman still clutching his hair. Her body vibrated on his back, shivering from the increasing cold air. That wasn’t good, not in the slightest. With his thick coat, Jorah would be fine in the cold, but a naked shifter? No, he wouldn’t be able to make it all the way to the top with her like this...he needed one of his secret caves.
Over the years as Jorah slowly descending farther and farther down the mountain, he’d discovered a variety of cozy and sizeable caves that overlooked the Oldwood. In a few he even stashed extra clothes and food...though most of the food would probably be stale by now.
But Jorah had to put that thought on hold as the remaining two Changelings following him leapt onto his back, swiping and digging their claws into his side. More hot flashes swept through his body, causing Jorah to clench his teeth and spin to get the Changelings off him. He was successful with one, throwing it off the side to dash itself on the rocks below, but the second was resourceful, using everything in its power to hang on. Just when Jorah thought his short quest to save the woman had failed, the dark tawny wolf from early appeared and barreled into the Changeling, sending them both over the side.
The tawny wolf managed to dig its paws into the dirt, delaying his fall, whimpering and eyeing Jorah, but ultimately it slipped and tumbled down.
Jorah went wide-eyed, realizing the dark tawny wolf had chased them and sacrificed himself to save the woman. He glanced over his shoulder to see the woman still shivering, her eyes closed and her hands gripping his back hair so hard they began to turn purple. As much as Jorah wanted to check on the other wolf, to see if he survived the fall, he needed to get this woman to a safe haven pronto.
So, Jorah reluctantly turned from the edge of the trail and hurried up the slope, his mind and heart racing at the adrenaline still coursing through his veins.
Chapter Eight: Jorah
I t took another couple miles up the mountains trail to find one of his secret caves.
Jorah had to force himself to calm down in order to find it, his ragged breathing and thumping heart only quickening because of how badly the woman began to shiver. This far up the mountain snow blanketed the ground and the chilled wind cut sharper than knives. Jorah’s own heavy sweat began to form icicles in the cold. Worse yet, a snowstorm threatened to blow in, causing Jorah to hurry, fighting through the burning in his hind legs and sides, eager to find a place for them both to rest.
And then he found it through the dusk, the small cave opening he remembered stocking with warm clothes and drink and now stale food. The fit was tight, too tight for a full-sized bear to waddle in, so he gently placed the female shifter down in the snow so he could shift to his human form, her body arching at the touch of the frost. Cursing under his breath as he shifted and scooped her up in his burly arms, Jorah slid inside, somehow managing to find a woven cot on the floor in the darkness. Placing her gently on the cot, she curled up, and Jorah quickly made to move a bundle of thick sticks tied together as a makeshift door over the entrance, to help soften the flow of the cold air.
The woman still shuddered, though, and so Jorah’s next thought involved finding a flintstone and some extra wood. Squinting in the darkness of the cave, Jorah managed to find a stockpile of clothes, a chest of spoiled food just as he predicted, a few hideskin jugs of cold ale and a few flintstones. But no wood.
Cursing, Jorah took to flintstones and a few articles of clothing and tossed them close to the woman. Using the flintstones he fought for a few sparks of light. Failing, he began to strike the flintstones harder and quicker, finally creating sparks and setting the clothes on fire, lighting up the cave and warming the immediate area. He knew the fire alone wouldn’t be enough to help the girl, so he quickly grabbed a large, wool blanket that Dallan had once stitched together. Gently placing himself over the woman, he wrapped one arm around her, pulling her body to his, and then placed the blanket over them both.
Dallan’s wise words echoed in his mind: if one wanted to save another from dying of the cold, body heat would scare the frost away. As much of a hardass as Dallan
was, he’d taught Jorah everything he knew. Striking fires, warming another with one’s own body, stitching together blankets. If the female wolf shifter survived, she’d have Dallan to thank as much as him.
But thoughts of Dallan quickly faded as Jorah realized the brevity of his situation.
Not only did he venture down to the Oldwood, even stepped foot into the forest, but he’d saved a wolf shifter, of all creatures, and brought her up the mountain. His meaty hands put pressure on the soft small of her back, her skin gentle and seeming to suck in his fingers. The rest of her body, slender and soft, pressed close to his torso without his prodding, as if she were desperately trying to suck the warmth out of him. Her small hands pawed his chest and shoulders, gripping tightly to the point of piercing his skin. Jorah winced at the pain, but managed to stay still, focusing on the woman’s pink lips, her rosy cheeks, her long eyelashes, the curling, almost glistening locks of blonde hair that tickled his chin and nose. He found her legs beginning to intertwine with his, tensing his body.
Jorah did his best not let his mind wander in the unsavory plains of lust while she gradually grew closer and closer to him. Whoever she was, she was beautiful, more beautiful than any other woman he’d ever met or seen. Like a woodland nymph, an angel who fell from the heavens. It wasn’t difficult to see how entranced Jorah had become with her while they lay quietly together, warming each other under the blanket from the cold chill of the oncoming night.
This delicate being was what the Seers were afraid of? Jorah grinned at how foolish their laws were. Sure, maybe half an hour ago this fragile shifter was madly fighting off a group of enemies that wanted to see her throat ripped out, but now Jorah was convinced that this shallow breathing nymph was her true nature.
Obviously, Jorah hadn't gotten to actually converse with her yet, though he relished the thought, but he was sure she’d not only see reason, but would be friendly as well, eager to learn about the Bear Clan. Maybe even become interested in him…