Ander - Chapter 6, Subchapter 2
#247 of Ander
2
Oh, this is bad. Oh, this is very, very bad. I don't know exactly what it is yet, but I do know that whatever it is, it will be bad, very bad indeed...
Salem closed the front door and, after a moment's hesitation, turned the deadbolt. He hurried to the window and peeked outside. There were groups of Foxes standing around, talking to each other, and even more coming down the road. They all looked worried, and with good reason. One Wolf was a curiosity, but seven of them running through town was bad news. It would only be a matter of time before they started banging on the door, demanding answers.
Salem closed the curtains. It was a useless gesture, but he didn't like the idea of a bunch of Foxes peering in through his window, trying to catch a glimpse of the Wolves. And speaking of the Wolves, what on earth was he supposed to do about them? Ander was a treat, but he was a self-proclaimed freak among his people. Hell, even his name meant 'different'. He didn't think Ander would bring danger into his home, but these were full-blooded Wolves in his kitchen, looking like the grim survivors of some horrendous battle. They were strangers, potentially dangerous strangers, and they were in the same room as his daughters.
Well, when in doubt, be polite.
"My goodness, where are my manners?" he said, turning to face his guests. "My name is Salem, and these..." he gestured towards his daughters, still sitting flabbergasted at the kitchen table, "are my two daughters, Kiana and Layla. We're friends of Ander's. Say hello, girls."
They stared.
"Ahem, say hello, girls."
"Oh!" They stood up and each gave a little half-curtsy. "Hello."
"Ah, good good. Normally I'd offer you some seating, but unfortunately our furnishings are ill-equipped to deal with your uh... stature. But erm..." Oh for gods' sakes, Salem, you're rambling! Stop rambling!
He stopped to give his guests an apologetic smile, but that's when he actually saw them for the first time. Before, his eyes had stopped dead at their sheer size, or the fact that they were savage Wolves, but now that the shock had worn off a bit, he could see each of them as an individual, and what he saw almost broke his heart.
The biggest one kept throwing furtive glances at the ceiling, as if he feared the whole thing might come crashing down on their heads. The one on his back had dark lines beneath his eyes from crying, and although he had curled his hands into loose fists, it was impossible for him to hide the fact that the tips of his fingers and toes had been cut off. The Wolfess standing next to them appeared to be unharmed, at least physically, but she was trembling and clutching the big one's arm. And behind her, peeking out from behind her bushy tail was a little Wolf girl with feathers in her hair. She was the prettiest little thing Salem had ever seen, but her face was covered in scratches, and had the puffy, swollen look of a novice fighter who had had the bad idea of going ten rounds with the village champion. She whimpered and ducked behind the Wolfess's back the moment she noticed him looking at her, and that's when Salem realised...
As scared as he was of them, they were outright terrified. If their story was anything like Ander's, he couldn't even begin to imagine what horrors they must have suffered through to make it this far, only to end up in a world completely alien to them, a place so strange and unrecognizable it might even make that prison beyond the mountain seem like a sanctuary, only because it was familiar.
The big Wolf with the broad shoulders stepped forward, still throwing suspicious glances at the ceiling. "My name is Sorrin. I apologise for coming into your... place. But our friend is hurt and Ander told us to follow, so..."
"There's no need to apologise. Any friend of Ander's is a friend of mine. You are more than welcome in my home."
The Wolf who had introduced himself as 'Sorrin' frowned slightly, and it reminded Salem of the way Ander first reacted to some good old-fashioned hospitality.
The one on his back had rested his head against Sorrin's shoulder like a big pillow and was staring at the wall, but Salem didn't think it was because he found the woodwork particularly interesting. He was simply staring because his eyes just happened to be open and just happened to be pointed in that direction. "I am Danado," he said, speaking in a listless way that only reconfirmed Salem's suspicions. Whatever these Wolves went through, it was more than just physical harm. Much, much more.
The Wolfess placed a hand over her heart. "Taberah."
And that only left...
Salem bent down, placed his hands on his knees, and put on his friendliest smile. "And who's this pretty little thing hiding behind your back, Taberah?"
The girl with the feathers in her hair retreated even further, pressing her body against Taberah's back so tightly it looked like she was trying to make herself invisible.
"It's okay, dear," Taberah said. "This is Ander's friend. I'm sure he won't hurt you."
I'm sure he won't hurt you. That's what she said. Not 'He won't hurt you,' but 'I'm sure he won't hurt you.' Those two little words said so much, both to him and to her. It said that she actually wasn't 100% certain that he wouldn't hurt her, but if he did, there would be hell to pay. It was rather scary, but Salem didn't mind. In fact, he found it quite admirable.
The little Wolf peeked out from behind Taberah's back. There was a fair bit of swelling over her left eyebrow, slightly obscuring the eye beneath, but the eye itself was clear and beautiful - pale blue, just like the sky after a long bout of rain, finally emerging from the breaking clouds.
"M-My..." she stuttered, clutching Taberah's tail. "My name is Renna."
"Renna? That's a pretty name." She looked away and started to chew on her fingernails. It must be a habit with her, because they were already chewed down to stubs. "Hey, Renna? Are you hungry? You must be, after that long trip. Would you like something to eat?"
She shook her head without a word, and Salem realised he wouldn't be able to deal with her like a normal child. She'd seen too much, been through too much, perhaps even done too much. There was no layer of naivety separating her from reality like you'd find with most Fox children, no protection of any kind. Having raised two daughters of his own, he could tell just by looking at her that life had scraped this poor girl raw, right down to the bloody nerve. No offers of food could distract her from whatever those pale blue eyes have seen, no friendly lies could cheer her up, and no amount of soft words could lift her fears. She'd see through them in an instant.
Unless those soft words happened to be the truth.
"You're worried about your little friend, aren't you?"
She nodded.
"Well, don't you worry, Renna. That vixen taking care of him right now? That's my wife, Bethany, and she is the best, most talented healer in the whole wide world, and she will fix him right up, I promise."
Her fingers were still in her mouth, but she had stopped chewing on them. "Really?"
"I give you my solemn vow. Heck, Ander was in far worse shape than your little friend and Beth had him up and running in two shakes."
There. The corner of her mouth turned up, ever so slightly, into a smile. The difference it made was uncanny, every bit as jarring as the difference between a cloudy sky and the shining sun. Too bad it only lasted for a fraction of a second.
There came a series of rapid knocks on the door and all the Wolves stepped back in alarm.
"Damn, I knew that was coming." Salem said. "Don't worry, I'll take care of it." He went to the door. "Yes, who is it?"
"Excuse me, Mr. Salem, could I borrow a bit of your time, please? It's Nick."
"And Bart!"
Lonin's boys? Salem turned the deadbolt and opened the door just wide enough to see a slice of Nicholas and Bartholomew's faces, pressed cheek to cheek, vying for control over the limited eye-space, as well as the sea of red and brown Foxes still gathering down the road.
"Hello, Mr. Salem. I don't wish to alarm you, but there appears to be a mob of rather worried Foxes gathering outside your house."
"I'd call of it more of a 'throng'," Bartholomew interjected.
"There is a throngy mob of Foxes gathering outside your house, yes. To be expected after a gang of Wolves sprints through town, leaving drops of blood like bread crumbs all over the road."
"Granny Claire fainted dead away!"
"Face-first into the crocuses."
"Nary a petal was spared a crushing death by geriatric bosom."
"Slow down, slow down!" Salem admonished with a wave of his hand. "What are people saying?"
Through the gap in the door, Bart and Nick's right and left eyes briefly swivelled towards each other. "They're all saying lots of different things that basically amount to the same thing. 'What the hell is going on? Were those Wolves just now? Did you see what happened? Why are there Wolves here? Do they know Ander? What do they want? What are they doing? Are we being invaded? Are the End Times upon us?' You get the idea."
"I believe there was a great deal more profanity than that, dear brother."
"Omitted for expedience, dear brother."
"Quite so."
Salem thought hard, and he thought fast. "All right, I want you to go back there and try to keep everyone calm. This is not an invasion, for gods' sakes! Tell them that yes, there are Wolves in my house, seven of them. They're all hurt really bad, one in particular, and he just so happens to be Ander's little brother. Bethany is doing everything in her power to help, so please don't come banging on our door for a while. I know everyone's on edge and would like some answers, but right now I don't have any to give. I'll let everyone know once we've sorted everything out. Have you got all that?"
"Got it."
"Got it."
"Good lads. I'm not trying to keep secrets here, it's just that I've only just learned their names, for crying out loud!"
Bart and Nick stood up on tippy toes to get a quick peek at Salem's new guests, jostling and elbowing each other so that their faces kept appearing and disappearing from the crack.
"Speaking of names, what is the moniker of the fetching giantess with the emerald eyes?"
"Aye! The one with the bear claw 'round her neck."
"And the wild, untamed tresses of a forest goddess!"
"And legs for days!"
"Shut up, I saw her first!"
"The hell you did!"
"Lads!" Salem said. "I believe I gave you a job to do, so if you don't mind..."
"Oh, right, right!" One of them (Salem couldn't tell who) stuck his arm through the gap in the door and waved. "G'bye everybody! Welcome to Grovenglen! Places of interest include the lake, the river, the mill, and Wolf Hill. Although I suppose to you lot that last one is just 'Hill' -"
"Yes thank you, goodbye." Salem pushed the arm back outside and shut the door. After a brief consideration, he turned the deadbolt again. He turned back to his guests and leaned up against the door, feeling uncharacteristically tired this early in the morning. "Twins." He jabbed his thumb over his shoulder and rolled his eyes. "Apparently people seem to think there's an invasion coming down on our heads." He chuckled, but the Wolves didn't join in. "There's not going to be an invasion, is there?" They stood around, shifting uncomfortably, not saying a word, and Salem felt the first scaly tendrils of panic start to uncoil in his stomach. "Is there?"
The Wolf called Sorrin briefly met Salem's eyes. "We don't know, Sai," he said and quickly looked away again. "We don't know."
"Oh? Well... that's all right then. Well, no, it's not all right, but... it's the way it is. It's um... It's the way it is. Ohhh dear..." Salem ran a shaking hand across his face and tried to take slow breaths, but they all came out quick and haggard. By the gods he could go for a smoke right now...
"Kiana, could you pass me my -"
The girl was gone. The chair next to Layla was empty. Well, there was only one place she'd be right now, and that was the same place she'd be any other day as well.
With Ander.