The Elf, Drakent Arrow [top 100 books of all time checklist .txt] 📗
- Author: Drakent Arrow
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known odor.
A human.
With a grunt of joy, the beast followed the scent to a figure
skins cover walking on snow. It was a girl, one
human girl, and despite that hung from his belt a knife and a
sling, the beast did not feel at all intimidated: neither
silver smelt objects, and the girl was still very young.
So the wolf ran towards her, snarling, convinced he
found easy prey. She turned and saw him, and launched a
cry ... Warning, not fear. The beast should have realized
that this was no ordinary young woman, but it smelled too good and he
I was too hungry.
Something whistled through the air and hit a huge stone wolf head;
This paused, stunned, but quickly returned to the fray.
Teaching all teeth, eyes murderous encouraged by a flame,
the beast jumped on the girl, fell on it and threw it to the ground ...
And suddenly, the wolf began to change rapidly and, despite
that the full moon was shining in the sky, the elf woke up.
He found himself shivering, metamorphosed again
in elf, lying on a human girl who looked with a
mixture of curiosity, fear and fascination in his dark eyes. The elf
wanted to say something, but suddenly, she hit him in the head with a
stone, without ceremony, and everything went black.
When he awoke, he lay on the floor of a huge cave. He looked at
around, confused, and saw the girl not far from him. He wore a
lighted torch in his hand, examining something on the wall.
Many questions came to mind the elf, but was not able to
respond to any of them. That girl had returned their form
Elven ... Or maybe I dreamed it? How had it come to that
cave? Was it she who had carried him throughout the
way?
- Who are you? He asked.
She turned toward him and studied with interest. It seemed
I understand the question. Also he looked. He wore his body
furs, led the tangled dark hair tucked behind her head
and his forehead and cheeks adorned with tribal paintings.
- What's your name? 'Said the elf.
Nor this time she answered. However, he began to speak in
a language he did not know.
- Wait, do not understand, the elf stopped. Who ... are ... you?
He asked slowly, looking into her eyes and pointing directly
with your finger.
The girl seemed to understand. He smiled and pointed to herself.
- Ronna said.
- Ronna repeated the elf.
She smiled again. Then she pointed to him and said:
- Fenris.
- ... Fen ris? What is that?
- Ronna Fenris insisted.
- No, listen, I ... not my name.
She grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet.
Then he led them to the wall he had been studying. The elf
followed, intrigued, and then saw what he had called
much attention. The wall of the cave was covered with wall paintings
showing small anthropomorphic figures in various scenes
hunting.
- Fenris she insisted, pointing to the top of the drawing.
And the elf realized.
On the human figures, watching them or protecting them, or perhaps
two things, the anonymous hand that had painted mural that had drawn
Also the shape of a huge wolf.
- Ronna Fenris repeated, pointing to the painted wolf, then placed
finger on the elf's chest. Fenris said again, smiling.
Chapter XII The wolf tribeWALKED DURING IN A PAIR OF DAYS, always towards the
this. By late afternoon of the second day, caught in a snowstorm,
Ronna but did not seem to bother her. The human was small and not very
high, but his body fibrous and muscular legs indicated that
was a strong and tough girl, used to walking
on the snow, running to hunt and live in extreme conditions.
The elf took quite keep up. He could have refused to
with her, but I was curious to know where it led and
above all, wanted to know how she had managed to restore its
way the night elf had attacked.
When my hands and feet so cold they did not think
could keep walking, his piercing gaze perceived in the distance, behind the
curtain of snow, squat shapes that seemed half oranges
they grew from the earth. They had to get even a little more
so I could recognize them: they were curious dwellings
hemispherical leather coverings.
They had reached a village.
Crowd of questions crossed his mind. He understood that
no human being lived in the wastelands and yet, there
had an entire population, judging by the number of stores, not very
large, made perhaps a dozen families, but it was
a population, the end of the day. Ronna launched a powerful guttural cry,
using hands as a horn, and then several people
out of the cabins and went to meet him. Shivering, the elf
looked at. All of them were low, rugged, dark-haired, as
Ronna; also had painted his face with tribal motifs very
it looked like the girl, ranging in some cases, so
the elf concluded that the paintings had some kind of meaning,
perhaps as indicative of rank or function of each within the group.
Also wore white fur, mostly bears, and carried
spears, bows and slings.
Ronna talked to them, pointing to the elf and pronouncing the name of
Fenris. The men and women of the group looked at each other,
amazed, and murmured among themselves. Then walked Ronna
to the village and motioned his companion to follow her. The
others were behind them.
Unsure, the elf found that what looked askance and maintained the
distance. However, there seemed to be afraid. Rather it was
a strange awe.
He was taken to a hut that was something apart from the
others. Ronna penetrated her, but before the elf motioned that
entered after her. He had to bend down because it was too high for the
door and, in doing so, said that around the entrance of the housing there
strange symbols painted more complex than ornaments
wore those on your skin.
The interior of the hut was lit by the warm glow reddish
a brazier placed in the center. The ceiling of hemispherical shape was
higher there than at the sides. The walls were covered with skins
white, plus isolating the cold outside stay were
painted with images of wolves. The elf had been placed near the
brazier, because she was cold and because that was the only place where his
no head brushed the low ceiling of the house. But seeing the skins
painted approached them, bowing his head, for examination. One
they showed a group of men and wolves surrounding another wolf
much larger than the rest. It seemed as if to bow before him.
- Fenris suddenly said Ronna's voice next to him, with respect and
veneration.
He winced. Looked at the girl and noticed that she
Wolf pointed to the large image.
And then he understood.
That they called Fenris wolf must be a god
to them. This would explain that Ronna not afraid of her, even though it
had been transformed into a wolf days earlier. The elf had heard that
primitive human tribes worshiped some kind of animal and
considered their father and protector. The paintings of the hut and what had
seen in the cave appeared to confirm this: these people were considered
somehow akin to wolves.
"Can I have confused me with your God?" He asked. If it was
that, of course was out of their mistake. Act as a god to the
long could only bring trouble.
He turned to Ronna to try to make him understand, and
then he saw that they had approached a young man whose appearance
small and fragile made him look older than he was. His mantle was
adorned with the same symbols as seen drawn around the
entrance of the house, and covered his head with a feather headdress.
The elf stepped back. The man had all the appearance of being
a wizard or a witch-some humans saw no difference between
each other, and he, after his experience with Novan and Shi-Mae, had
learned not to trust the sorcerers. Ronna's hand rested
reassuringly on his arm. This puzzled him. If you believe one
kind of god, why it was the girl with many trusts?
- Log-said, pointing to the man's headdress.
- Log-elf repeated uncertainly.
The sorcerer, or whatever it was, it was noted to himself, nodding. Then
approached the elf without the slightest worry about the suspicious look that
this gave him. Fixed him with her dark eyes and muttered a few words in his
own language. He reached up and touched it to his forehead. The elf wanted to go back,
but was paralyzed by her gaze. Log fingers grazed his forehead
and awoke inside something wild that had been dormant
since the last full moon. He felt the beast inside roar and launched a
cry of alarm, but when the wolf tried to take control over their
body and initiate the transformation, the man withdrew his hand, and the beast
went to hide in the darkest corner of your being.
Trembling, the elf leaned against the wall and closed his eyes, exhausted and
sweaty. When he opened them again, staring at him Ronna and Log
intently.
- Log Fenris said simply.
The elf, weakened after the hard trip and the infighting that had just
fight, felt his eyes clouded and fell fainting on the floor
covered with fur.
It took several days to recover, and then realized the
had caused havoc in your body those months of life
rigorous and austere in the wastelands. The people of the tribe cared
him and, when he found a little better, felt that the younger
often used to spy from the entrance, when adults
looked. It was evident that he felt curiosity. But did not appear
fear.
Ronna not left her side. It was difficult to communicate by signs of
So the elf tried to learn a few words of their language,
although it seemed crude and rudimentary compared to the beautiful language
Elvish, was something that touched the heart without knowing why.
One afternoon, Log entered his hut and sat next to him to try to
establish communication. He had brought several pieces of leather
which had various painted images. The elf recognized them: many of
they reproduced the mural paintings of the cave that had shown
Ronna. Through them, sign language and how little he had
learned their language, the elf could understand a little better the story
of those nations.
They had a legend that their ancestors had come to
that place fleeing a terrible disaster. They were about to die
hunger and cold when wolves chased them, but then a huge
wolf, larger than the others, had come to his aid.
The wolf and humans became friends, the wolf taught
survive and in return, they taught him to speak. And when he was able to
talk like a human, the wolf also acquired the ability to
will become man. One day left to go
away, but before he swore that his spirit would always protect the tribe and
no wolf ever the damage. In return, they must promise not
never would hurt or kill any member of his species.
He left and never came back, but they never forgot their name:
Fenris.
Those men and women were called, hereinafter, the Tribe
Wolf, and had been awaiting the return of Fenris from
then, longing for the lost brother who had both. The blessing
Fenris was still with them, since no wolf could attack, but
had never been heard of him.
"Fenris is not a god to them," then the elf thought. "It is a
mythical hero, but also the member lacks the tribe to feel
complete ".
He tried to make them understand that he was not the person they were
waiting. He even revealed his Elvish name, although abandoning the
Novan cabin had sworn that he would never use it. Ronna began
laughing. It took a while to make him understand that, of course, they
knew that he was not Fenris, but it was probably one of his
descendants and thus, you could call it that.
Before this, he did not know what to say. The story of the people seemed
a legend, but the figure of enormous wolf that had become
man
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