FARHAYVEN: VENGEANCE

by S. K. Ng

  Many weeks had passed. Spirit had become an active wolf pup. He ran and ran, and then he leapt with all his might, and pounced onto one of his brothers. The two of them tumbled onto the snow-covered ground, engaged in puppy-wrestling. Pretty soon, all four pups were engaged in it. They bit and pawed one another harmlessly, and they body-slammed one another and chased one another’s tail. These were the games that the siblings played with each other on the cold, wet, snow-covered ground.

  Then the smell of food caught their attention. Their mother had returned with a large portion of a dead antelope in her jaw. Next to her was an even larger wolf, their father, and he too had in his jaw a large portion of the dead antelope. Pretty soon, all four pups were tearing away chunks of antelope meat and chewing away like there was no tomorrow. Then all four pups lay on the snow-covered ground, their belly filled to their limits, making it uncomfortable for them to move. There was nothing left to do but to close their eyes and take their lazy afternoon nap enjoying the mild rays of the sun.

  A year goes by, and Spirit the White Wolf is a pup no longer. He grows up to be almost as large as his father. Along with one of his brothers, Spirit hides behind some bushes and eyes his prey, an adult male antelope who has strayed away from the rest of his herd. Spirit’s father, along with his mother, charges at the antelope, barking ferociously and baring their fangs. The sudden sight of two ferocious wolves scares the antelope into a sudden panic, and he starts running away. So does the rest of the herd. Unfortunately, the herd runs in one direction but the stray antelope runs in another. The antelope becomes isolated from his herd, with two ferocious white wolves just barely a pace or two behind him.

  The stray antelope runs and runs. His chest feels tight and his heartbeat is rapid. Then to his utmost horror, he sees another pair of white wolves joining in the chase, approaching him from both flanks. Spirit’s brother and sister take over the chase from their parents, who slow down to rest. The antelope grows tired. His legs feel numb and heavy. He feels like giving up. He wants to die. He wants to be put out of his misery. His lungs feel like exploding and the world spins around him.

  Then suddenly, Spirit and his other brother both leap into the air from behind the bushes and sink their fangs into the antelope. They drive their fangs in deep. Spirit’s two other siblings catch up with them and jump onto the back of the poor creature and sink their fangs in deep as well. The combined weight of the four wolves bring the antelope collapsing to the ground. It is all over for him, the stray antelope. He has not the will to survive, and now he lies lifeless on the ground as six hungry wolves rip chunks of flesh from his motionless and lifeless body. Spirit smiles as best as a wolf can. It is a good hunt. This is a tasty meal. His belly is not complaining. And now his eyes are heavy and he closes them as he lay on the cold, wet snow-covered ground. To him, life is such a wonderful thing.

  Another six months had passed, and things had changed. Gone were the antelopes, rabbits, squirrels and forest mice. The blizzards came down hard. The river and water-holes were all frozen solid. Spirit’s parents looked around in a worried manner. With a firm stare from the father, the rest of the family understood what they had to do. They got on their feet and set out to warmer grounds. They had nothing to guide them but the smell of antelopes, rabbits and other creatures that were carried by the gusting wind and dampened by the moisture of falling snow.

  The six white wolves made slow pace in the thick blizzard, and in time, they were all trembling. Spirit was scared, but even more than that, he was angry. Everything was fine until then. They had a small stream from which to drink. They had antelopes, rabbits and forest mice for food. Why did things have to change? Why were there no warnings? Or were there warnings which they did not know how to interpret?

  Spirit lost his footing and slipped. He struggled to regain it. He looked down. This ground was different than the ones he was used to. It was smooth, slightly wet and very slippery. Unlike the brown or black ground beneath the white soft snow which he was used to, this ground was semi-transparent and hard. The rest of his family were having trouble staying on their feet as well. His father pushed forward, and the rest of the family followed. One of his brothers looked at him, giving him a mischievous stare. Under normal circumstances, Spirit would have pounced on him and the both of them would have been locked in some sort of wolf wrestling. But Spirit was not in the mood! He was cold. He was tired. But most of all, he was hungry. So, step after step, the family of six white wolves walked across the frozen river in solemn silence.

  Crack! Then a yelping sound is heard. Spirit turns his head around to see his sister falling through the broken ice and into the freezing water. He stares in total disbelief. As he turns around, he sees a blur of white mass flash past him. Before he can even decide what to do, his father is already in the freezing water, trying his best to keep Spirit’s sister afloat. His father pushes his sister towards the edge and tries to get her out of the water. Spirit runs forward and bites his sister at the back of her neck and with all his weakened might, tries to pull her up. His brothers arrive and join the effort.

  Spirit’s sister is now up on the stable ice, but not his father. The three siblings try to grab their father’s neck, but it is too late. The freezing cold of the river overcomes the older wolf, his eyes become white and his body floats gently away from them. His mother tries to wake Spirit’s sister up, and just barely manages to do so. The severely weakened female wolf clumsily regains her footing, and her heart skips a beat when all four of the other white wolves howl in mournful tones, the long deep howls to send off the dead. She turns around to see the large mass of white fur that was her father floating away with the current of the now partially flowing river and howls in mourning too. Tears flow down the side of their furry cheeks. Their father is gone forever.

  The smell of antelopes still guided them. But Spirit was not hungry anymore. His stomach was still empty but somehow the thought of filling it was the furthest from his mind. Why? Why did nature play these cruel games with them? What has he done, what have they done to deserve such a fate? Why all these cruel taunts? Why did nature not kill them speedily with minimum suffering? And all around him, Spirit saw white. White sky. White ground. White fur. And he hated it. He hated the whiteness of snow, of his fur and of his father’s lifeless eyes. He hated them all!

  Spirit walked ahead of his family. He had become the new dominant male, the leader of the pack, the head of the family. He walked and walked and walked. Then there was a loud thump. He turned around, and saw his sister lying on the white frozen ground. Her body was stiff. Her chest was motionless. She was dead. The coldness of the river had drained the life out of her. Spirit and the rest of his family could do nothing but mourn. Howl after howl filled the air for their dearly departed sister. Nature had betrayed him, tortured him and played cruel games with him. Yet Spirit the White Wolf knew of one sure fact. Nature was all around him, it was him, he was part of it and that there was no escape from it. Nature engulfed all, controlled all; was anything and everything and yet at the same time, nothing; and from it, there was no escape.

  Shedding the last of his tears, he closed his eyes in mournful silence. Then Spirit turned his body back to the direction of the scent of the antelopes, and walked forward. His two brothers joined him and so did his mother. And so the four sad, mournful souls treaded endlessly in the infinite whiteness of the snow-covered terrain.

  For two long weeks the family of four white wolves treaded along. Occasionally, they were lucky and managed a meagre meal of rabbit meat, and on other days they walked on with empty stomachs. The blizzards became less frequent and less intense. The sun began to shine longer. Spirit lowered his mouth to the ground and crunched on a mouthful of snow. It quenched his thirst for a short while. But it did not quench his sorrow, anger or hatred. Nature was making a fool of him, and he had no choice but to accept the cruel fate dealt to him.

  Then he saw a twitch in the corner of his eyes. He stopped and focused his s
ight. His brothers did the same. About 20 paces away, a pair of furry ears and a tail protruded out of the whiteness of the snow. It was small, and it was unaware of the approaching wolves. Spirit looked at his brothers. It seemed that nature and fate had decided to smile on them a little. The hunt was on!

  Spirit edges forward, keeping his body low and making sure that he stayed downwind. This is important as being upwind will carry his scent to his prey, thereby giving it ample warning to escape. His brothers take up flanking positions beside him. Together in perfect silent rhythm, the three male wolves creep towards their prey. The furry pair of ears twitches once again and suddenly, a forest mouse’s head appears, looks around and takes in the sight of the three approaching wolves. In the blink of an eye, the chase commences. The tiny forest mouse paddles her feet as fast as she can. The three hungry wolves cut across the snow like lightning. Fear totally consumes the mouse, but she tells herself that she will not give up. She has got to return to her den. Eight tiny hungry mouths await the nutrients in her milk, and without her, they cannot possibly survive. Her husband has been missing for days and now she is all they have got left. She tells herself that she must survive!

  Spirit tells himself that he must get this meal, or one of his family members is going to die of starvation and hypothermia. Spirit is close enough now to pounce and gathering all his strength, he leaps forward, front paws extended and jaws wide open. She sees him soaring through the air towards her. She steps hard with her right front leg and pushes her body to the left. In the split of a moment, she is running perpendicularly from her original track. Spirit lands onto the snow and tumbles on the ground. What an embarrassing miss! To be outmanoeuvred by a forest mouse, what an indignation! Spirit gets on his feet almost immediately and hastily resumes the chase. To Spirit’s perverse satisfaction, both his brothers are unsuccessful as well. This forest mouse is one cunning creature! Spirit sprints forward but comes to a sudden stop. He has just lost her trail. He looks around. Nothing! He sniffs the air. Nothing! He sniffs the ground. Nothing! So it seems that nature and fate did not smile on him after all, or perhaps, it smiles on him a little but much more on the forest mouse.

  Spirit walked forward with his head down. So did his brothers. His mother paced slowly behind. They were all very hungry and very cold. Spirit’s world turned and spun. Then came a loud thump. His eyes were heavy and he could open them no longer. He felt the cold wetness of the snow on his fur and flesh. He could hear the barking of his brothers and mother. He felt like his skull was being crushed. Soon, even the barking faded away. There was a cold silence. Such a peaceful silence.

  Spirit opened his eyes. There was a loud rattling of his teeth. He was shivering. The sky had gone dark. He turned his head around. His mother and brothers were all cuddled together around him. He looked up at the sky. It was clear, with millions of tiny bright sparkles as decoration. So even in the darkness there existed the colour white. But this whiteness was of a different kind. It was not as monotonous as the white of snow. These sparkles were even quite entertaining to look at. It could almost make him forget about the cold and the huge void in his belly. Perhaps nature was trying to console him. Such a soothing consolation for a defeated hunter!

  The morning sun radiated at the far horizon. Spirit was on his feet. So were his mother and brothers. Step by step, they moved forward, following the lingering scent of antelopes. Spirit walked with his head down, seeing only the whiteness of snow. Then the scents got stronger. He began to see patches of brown earth exposed on the ground. His sharp ears sensed the sound of flowing water. He felt the change. This place felt slightly warmer than the place where he had come from.

  A branch moves. He sees it. So do his brothers. His heart beats faster. His ears stiffen. His vision sharpens and focuses. The branch moves again. Spirit quickens his trot. So do his brothers. They split up, with Spirit moving down the centre and his two brothers flanking him. They move closer and closer to the branch. The branch moves yet again, this time exposing the head of a stag to which it is connected.

  The male deer looks around. He can hardly see the snow-white shapes advancing towards him but he begins to sense their smell, and this is all the warning he needs. Like a flash of lightning, he sprints away. The three wolf brothers give chase.

  Spirit begins to bark and so do his brothers. They hope to scare the male deer and to cause him to panic. The stag accidentally steps into an open crack in the ground. He falls to the ground, and dislocates one of his limbs. As the stag struggles desperately to regain his footing, Spirit leaps into the air with his sharp fangs bared and lands with these deadly fangs planted deep into the stag’s neck. First the stag feels the shock, and then the pain. The stag screams out as loud as he can. Then comes the feeling of hopelessness as reality sinks in. He realises that he is doomed. As the stag struggles to throw off the predator from his back, Spirit’s brothers land on the poor creature and sink their fangs in as well. Then slowly, the cold becomes more apparent. The dizziness becomes more acute. Then the darkness comes. Then the silence comes. And then the darkness and the silence stay, permanently…

  Spirit sank his teeth deep and reaped with all his might. Chunks of flesh separated from the stag’s torso. Spirit chewed as fast as he could and swallowed the half-chewed meat with the kind of desperation and excitement that he had never felt before. A week of starvation had that kind of effect on him, and perhaps, all other creatures as well. His brothers mirrored his every move and his every thought. His mother joined them shortly and she too, ate her meal with a type of intensity unseen before this day.

  The four exhausted, but well-fed, wolves lay on the ground in complete contentment. The flow of the nearby river provided a light visual entertainment while the family members of the recently departed stag looked at the quartet cautiously. They knew that they were safe for the moment, but for the moment only. Perhaps soon, they would receive the same fate as their departed relative. But this was a problem for another day, but for this particular day, they were safe.

  Spirit lay immobilised in the snow. Such was the cruelty of nature, he thought. One being’s existence must be terminated in order to sustain another. He hated to hunt. He hated to kill. But he had to eat. Was it all necessary? Was there no better way? Perhaps, or perhaps not! He knew that he had to survive! But to serve what end? What was the point of his survival? Spirit shook his head and closed his eyes. These questions were too complicated for a wolf to answer. Perhaps one day, if he were to meet a celestial being, or what was known as an ‘angel’, he could ask this question and obtain a reasonable answer. But at the moment, all he could do was lie on the ground contented with a full stomach.

  It had been several seasons since Spirit and the remaining members of his family arrived at this new place. They had been living quite contentedly ever since. Then one day, his body felt warm and weak, his head ached and sticky liquid flowed from his nose. He tried to get up, but the whole world spun around him. His brothers were already out of the lair for the hunt. His mother stared at him, signalling him to stay and rest, then in a flash of white, she too was gone. So Spirit lay on the ground in their snow-covered lair and closed his eyes. Slowly, sleep overcame him and he welcomed it.

  Meanwhile, somewhere upriver, the three white wolves searched for a suitable prey. A large male buffalo attracted their attention. Slowly, they crept closer and closer towards him. Snap! Spirit’s mother howled in agony. Snap! Snap! Spirit’s brothers howled in agony as well. The flow of red blood stained the white cleanliness of the snow covered ground. The three wolves struggled, but with no success. The metal traps that had clamped onto their limbs could not be shaken loose. The teeth-like surfaces of the traps had cut through the flesh of their limbs and were embedded deeply into their bones. Tears of pain and fear began to flow down their eyes. Their once ferocious barks turned into soft yelps of fear and desperation. Their visions blurred as their loss of blood increased and in that blurriness, they saw two human-like shadows coming towa
rd them. Then something hard and heavy slammed into their heads and then into every other part of their bodies. First came the confusion, then the shattering pains. Many moments later, there came one last agonising exhale and then there was nothing but silence and darkness.

  Two plump male humans stared down at the remains of the three dead wolves with a cold indifference. Then the slightest of smiles cracked across their faces. Pretty soon, bursts of laughter echoed throughout the white wilderness. The men began to skin the wolves in a casual though precise and expert manner. The first topic of their discussion was about the price that they should set for the wolves’ fur and what they were going to do with the money. As the delusions of their fantasies became more excessive, they started to fool around with the bloodied fur. First, they wrapped the fur around their shoulders like a cape. Then they wrapped the fur around their head and pretended to strut down an imaginary runway. But while they entertained their wildest materialistic fantasies, little did they realise the pair of red, blood-soaked angry eyes staring down on them from a hidden distance. Spirit could not contain his anger anymore. These humans had murdered his family, and they were playing around with the skins of his mother and brothers in some weird human ritual!