The Calling

[Skafloc]

Pack leader was troubled. Wotan could sense that from far off. His smell was sad. If Pack Leader was sad, then Wotan also must be sad. Wotan follows the pack.

But the pack is smaller now. Pack Mistress is not at the den. Her scent is all over the place. Wotan sleeps on the space where she used to shed her fur. It is heavy with her scent.

Gone also is the ‘other’. Wotan liked to play with the other, even if the ‘other’ liked to scratch Wotan a lot. Wotan didn’t mind. ‘Other’ was fun to chase. Not as quick as Wotan in running, but was a good jumper.

And sneaky. But not so sneaky that Wotan couldn’t smell him.

His scent was also all over. Wotan played now with Pack Leader’s slippers, as ‘other’ used to do.

Pack Mistress was gone before, but never this long. This time it was different, Wotan knew. Wotan could smell the difference. The Wolf Spirits whispered to him, telling him that Pack Mistress was not coming back. Pack Leader also knew this. Wotan waited for Pack Leader to make the calling. The cry to the Wolf Spirits. But Pack Leader was silent.

So Wotan makes the calling. The Great Silver eye is in the sky. She signals that it is time for the calling.

So Wotan makes the calling. Wotan calls out long and deep. And Wotan listens….

Pack Leader comes out and tells “quiet”. Wotan stops the calling. For a while. But Wolf Spirits whisper still. Wotan goes out and makes the calling again. This time Pack Leader doesn’t say “quiet”. Pack Leader lets Wotan make the calling as is right.

So Wotan makes the calling. And Wotan listens. He hears the sounds of ‘others’ , but it is not his language. He knows not the words. Growly, roaring words. Like Pack Mistress’ ‘other’ used to make.

The lands around the Den have no voices of the Great Pack.

So Wotan makes the calling. But the calling has changed. It is not a call to Pack Mistress. She is not answering.

It is the song of the Great Pack. It is a song for being lonely.

The Song of the Great Pack (http://www.searchingwolf.com/howl.wav)

http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y266/toxctii/Wolf-Moon.jpg

[Malorii]

(( :( so sad i always enjoy your works D:

[Nymare]

(( awwwww Poor Wotan! Poor Skaf! :'( Very nicely written ))

[Skafloc]

(( This is now open.. with a caveat. It is open to those that can hear the Song of the Great Pack. Those that can commune with the Wolf Spirits.. ((shaman ))

This is what wolves do to vent.. to mourn.. to support each other. and to pray, for lack of a better word. This is where they meet.. ))

[Morrigaine]

((How dare you make me cry! Good thing I'm not at work.))

[Vilmah]

((How about another wolf?))

[Skafloc]

((How about another wolf?))

(( Perfect. The great wolf spirit will be carrying the Song across the spirit workd to the far corners of Azeroth, where all who can hear can join in and add their own voice to the chorus, wolf or shifted shaman. ))

[Skafloc]

((Worgen too?))

(( *sigh* No, I was planning on writing a bit about the Sons of Arugal and other worgen after a few "real" posts were made. The Song would be a frustration to them at the very least, at worst it would drive them to despair. I won't say much beyond that as it will basically destroy what I was going to write.. ))

[Vilmah]

Something wrong?

Edmund sniffed the air and shook his head. Someone was feeling bad. Really bad. Ed felt bad just listening. Why so bad? He thought to himself. The gigantic timber wolf stretched his legs and stood. Behind him, Ruby slept peacefully with a tummy full of Ed's babies.

Ed licked Ruby on the face and made sure that mommy's other puppy, the one with two legs, was still safely tucked in between mommy and pats-on-head. Satisfied, the wolf found his way out of the Sanctuary guildhall and went towards the sound. It began with a slow trot, but turned into a full run. The closer he got, the more he barked.

"Hey! Hey! Hey hey! Why sad??"

[Darkweald]

Atop a spire of rock like so many others that jutted up within the canyon of the Thousand Needles stood a red masked and cloaked figure. She stared over the twisting rock ravines beneath Freewind Post in which hundreds of hyenas were cackling their maniacal hoots. A warm breeze lifted up the edges of the standing figure's cloak, and the summer night sky shone warmly above.

"Cold," she said.

[Skafloc]

Wotan makes the calling. Somewhere, he knows the Wolf Spirits hear, and take up the call.

They echo his Song. The Song of the Great Pack. They echo his Song across the spirit world, to all of the Great Pack to hear.

Wotan listens. He hears an answer. Another voice added to the Song, echoed by the Wolf Spirits.

" Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey! Why sad? "

Wotan listens, then he sings.

" I am. My pack is. I am here but one is lost. I sing to her. Join me to sing to her. We sing the Song of the Great Pack. Let us sing together. "

Wotan sings the Song. The Wolf Spirits echo the Song. Around the world, voices take up the Song. Voices of the Great Pack.

The Song becomes the Great Chorus.

" We are here. We are the Great Pack. We are no longer lonely. "

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the Valley of Honor lights came on one by one as the residents of Orgrimmar were awoken by the din. Kildar's voice could be heard cursing in amonst the many plaintif howls coming from his stables. Try as he might he could not get the wolves to quiet down. As one they howled into the hot Durotar night.

From a distance Kildar could hear other howls as wolves throughout the city took up the call. In the end he just stood there shaking his head in confusion and bewilderment as the wolves sang.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One by one the patrons of the Lion's Pride grew silent as the sounds emanating from the forest around Goldshire washed over the town and up into the night air.

Wolves. The wolves of Elwynn Forest had begun to inexplicably howl. Some few looked to each other in wonder and trepidation. Others shrugged and went back to their ale and debauchery. "Let the Marshals deal with it. Now where is that dancing elf woman? "

Slowly as the novelty wore off the noise of the Lion's Pride returned to its normal background hum.

But in the forest, the wolves sang.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the dark shadows beneath the evergreens of Tirisfal Glades the Sons of Arugal perked up. Far south in the mists of Duskwood the Worgen mirrored their northern cousins.

They heard the Song of the Great Pack. They heard the Chorus. The purity of the voices raised in Song pulled at their dark souls. The Wolf Spirits carried the Chorus to their dens and huts, flooded their villages with the Song. They stopped their activities to raise their heads and listen.

Some few tried to join the Chorus, but the purity of the Song eluded them. Their voices faltered and faded. The Wolf Spirits did not echo their Song. These soon stopped and either stood to listen in sadness and longing, or slunk away to weep in the depths of their dens out of shame.

Others wailed, clutching their ears against the Song. The voices of the Great Pack ringing with the oneness of their Chorus. Supporting and revering each other. They were not welcome, yet inside they yearned.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Great Chorus (http://www.searchingwolf.com/chorus3.wav)

[Vilmah]

Edmund feels something stir within him. He is tame, he is still a pup at heart, and he does not know who Wotan speaks of.. but he has felt loss, before. He has lost a friend who he knows he will never learn from again.

"Yes! Yes I'll help!"

Sitting on his haunches, he raises his head and howls. He joins in the song and mourns the loss of a friend, but hopes that the song will reach her and the rest of the fallen. He hopes that someday, when he is only a spirit, he will hear the song again.

[Gerte]

The campfire flickers on the orc's face as she skins the rabbit with a newly sharpened dagger. All is silent in the Hinterlands, save for a few hootlike growls from Owlbeasts. Keems looks up from time to time, when the fire crackles and she thinks she hears a footstep in the rough. It's nothing.

Shazzer, her red-skinned hyena, lays curled up in the massive arms of her riding wolf Baron, staring across the fire at Keems. The wolf kicks out, tongue lying from a curling mouth as he growls at his dreams.

Keems cuts off a rabbit leg and throws it at Shazzer who catches it in the air, yipping as she chews. Baron, shuffles and kicks one paw out.

It's a quiet night, a night for reflection and Keems looks up through the thick trees to the moon above. She knows Shazzer is doing the same, looking up at the moon.

That's when it starts. A single howl, a wolf's lament. For a few moments there is silence, then Shazzer and Baron's ears tweak. Baron wakes, shaking off Shazzer from his belly and he stands, then sits, listening attentively. Shazzer herself sits, ears forward and nose sniffing the wind.

Another howl and this time, Baron's deep reverberating moan joins in. Shazzer yips with him, unable to howl and Keems covers her ears. "Oh knock it off!" But the din is so loud now with the wolves in the Hinterlands and some other, more tribal yelling and screaming from the direction of the troll village nearby.

Keems listens, letting her anger melt. Baron throws back his head, eyes closed as his baritone howl lows out the high-pitched yips from Shazzer. She watches, skinning the rabbit while looking up at the moon.

[Skafloc]

Wotan makes the calling. The Song of the Great Pack. The Chorus.

He hears the voices of many. They tell of sadness, of loss and of yearning. But they also sing of hope. They sing of the hunt, of the chase. They sing of togetherness. They sing of mating and of play. They sing of bravery and of battle. Across the wide hunting grounds the Wolf Spirits echo their calls, carrying each voice of the Chorus to each singer.

They tell each other their names.

I am Wotan. I am Baron. I am Edmund. I am Slinker. I am Frostfang. I am Greyrunner. I am Lady. I am Boarbane...

The names come, many many names. Names given to some by their pack leaders, but most are names given to each by the Wolf Spirits. Names most two legs cannot learn. The private names of the Great Pack.

Long into the night they sing until the Chorus fills the skies everywhere with Song.

As the Silver Eye dips low Wotan makes one last call..

" We are here. We are the Pack. "

He stands and listens as the Chorus slowly fades into the early morning. he offers a thanks to the Wolf Spirits then turns and enters the Den. She did not join the calling. But he knows she must have heard. The Wolf Spirits made sure of that.

Entering the sleeping cave of the Pack Leader, Wotan silently hops up on the bed and lies next to Pack Leader. He rests his head on the pillow that carries still the strong scent of Pack Mistress.

Wotan sleeps.

[Morrigaine]

Gráinia tossed in her sleep. She was having dreams again of her family before the plague. Standing in front of the house in Brill, she watched her huge white dog, Rosie, chase a squirrel.

Suddenly, Rosie sat and raised her snout to the sky. A low, mournful howl came from her.

‘Wait! That’s not right! Rosie is a dog, not a wolf!’ Gráinia shot up in bed, suddenly wide awake.

In the distance, she could hear the wolves howling to each other. Slowly, she lay back down. Turning her face into he pillow, she began to cry for what had been.