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43. I Want a Dog
🕑 Added 2024-05-11 15:00:07 +0000 UTCThe wolf squirmed in his grasp, trying to wriggle free. The thick, loose fur around its neck gave it some wiggling room, and its eyes widened. It twisted harder than before. Ike’s grasp slipped.
The wolf scrambled, but before it broke away, Ike grabbed it again. He wrestled it back under him and tightened his hold. “Hey! None of that. You break free, that’s it. You die. Become my dog instead! I’ll feed you well.”
Falling still, the wolf looked at him from the corner of its eyes. The silver gleamed in the moonlight.
“Think about it. You’re a pack hunter. I’m offering you a pack. Are you really going to hold a grudge, even down here? Far away from your pack? And come on. I didn’t hurt you. You attacked me, missed, and fell into the Abyss. That isn’t my fault.”
The wolf paused. It snorted, letting out a big breath of air. Reaching up a paw, it patted Ike’s shoulder.
“You giving in?” Ike asked. He leaned back a little, getting a look at the wolf’s face.
Its nose no longer wrinkled. Its eyes gazed straight ahead. Its head laid against the ground, tired. As he watched, it swallowed and snorted again, not a hint of fight in its behavior.
Slowly, Ike loosened his grasp. He didn’t release it entirely, ready to attack again at any moment. The wolf rolled belly-up, showing its pale stomach fur.
I know what that means. It’s submitted. I’m its leader, now. Ike rubbed its belly. The wolf gave him a surprised look and kicked, rolling back onto its feet. It stepped away, but couldn’t go far with the pit right there. Clearly uncomfortable, it backed away from both Ike and the pit, but that meant stepping onto the flattened tent. Its paw touched canvas, and it recoiled, shaking that paw as if something stuck to it.
Ike glanced at the pit. He lifted his lip at the sight of the knocked-over spikes at its bottom. I didn’t think those things would kill the wolf. I was just hoping to weaken it. Still, they sure did a whole lot of nothing, huh? Next time, he’d have to set them deeper.
The sword also laid at the bottom of the pit. Ike eyed it, then looked at the wolf. It regarded him warily, still uncertain. It’s still a monster, too. I can’t move thoughtlessly, or I might provoke it into attacking. “You going to stick around?”
The wolf backed up, kicking Ike’s tent out of the way, then leaped over the pit and ran off into the night.
“I guess not.” Ike stared after it, not quite certain of what’d just happened. At the very least, he’d established that he was stronger than it. It shouldn’t bother him anymore. As to whether it would come back or not, that was a different question.
He shook his head. “Too bad I don’t have a rope to tie it up.” All the materials he had were derived from the wolf that had died from the fall, and that didn’t strike him as a good idea to use to tie up the wolf he wanted to befriend. His ragged clothes, in his bag, would shred the second the wolf pulled at them.
Then again, if it’s as intelligent as Silver, or close to that, then it might have understood what I said. In that case, it might need some room to think about my proposition. Even if it’s only as intelligent as a beast, it still understood that I forced it to submit—that I’m stronger than it. It shouldn’t attack me again from.
He smiled at its back. But I have a feeling it’s coming back.
The wolf vanished in the pale moonlight, and Ike shrugged. He checked his pack. I still have some non-wolf jerky from town. When it comes back, I’ll try bribing it with some of that.
Night passed into day. Ike dozed in the ruins of his tent, unable to get a good heavy sleep with the wolf nearby. It didn’t attempt to attack him again, but nonetheless, his instincts wouldn’t allow him to fully relax. When sun rose, a groggy Ike wiped the sleep off his face and climbed out of the crumpled tent. He turned slowly and took it all in.
In front of him, the ruined pit trap stretched, its covering branches dangling over the hole, the spike toppled in its depths. Behind him, the tent laid in a slumping pile.
Ike sighed. He started packing up the tent. No point leaving it on the far side of the pit, at least right now. When he finished packing the tent, he turned to Rosamund’s head. He dislodged the stone on top and peered inside.
Thick globs of dark fluid, almost as much as had been in her head on the first day. Ike lifted his brows. Impressive. I’ll have to keep filling it up with lunam.
Ike closed her head up again. Weaving out of the campsite’s defenses, he grabbed a few vines and tied them together into a makeshift net. He placed the pan beneath it, and propped her head in the net, upright.
Rosamund stared at him, her eyes wide. Her jaw worked.
Ike hesitated, then shrugged. He nudged the gag down.
“—inside you. Give me what’s inside you. I’m hollow. I need it. I need to have fillings. I need to—”
Ike fastened the gag back over her mouth and pursed his lips. Never mind.
He left the goo to drip down into the pan. Chewing on some wolf jerky, he dug through his pack until he found the jerky he’d bought in town. He waggled it at the forest. “Here, wolfie wolfie.”
Silence. The thick undergrowth didn’t so much as budge.
That was a bit of a long shot, yeah. Ike shrugged and put the jerky in his back pocket. Just in case the wolf showed up again.
