Chapter Text
Keep the wolves at bay,
All of Evander’s life was his job, to keep the flock together and slay any wolf he spotted. Occasionally, he would shift into a sheepdog to make his life easier, just to keep up with the flock and avoid any hooves. Wolves were no longer as common as they were; luckily, if he ran into any casualties, his family would pay the price.
He was the last surviving son of the Xokin family and the last who was fit to work with such endurance. His father took on shearing the sheep after he got into an accident with the horses, and his mother couldn't do anything other than milk the cows and tidy the farm. So it was his job to take over the safety of the sheep.
It was the year 1679, and Evander was lying down panting in the form of a common sheepdog scouring the area for any wolves or threats to his family's ranch. Chasing sheep as a halfling was a struggle; his head was in a sheep or horse’s kicking range, so he was lucky to be bestowed the druid role by the gods. And had a large land to raise his farm in.
But there were no sightings of wolves like they used to. At first, he paid no mind, but then he suddenly shifted back into his normal form.
That was strange, he thought, trying again to shift back into a sheepdog.
No luck
Evander worried that if he lost his powers, he would be shunned by the faithful and left to die in a river. Or sacrificed for forgiveness. He was only 15; he was too young to have a place in the faith other than to bring sheep to the slaughter.
It was getting late and the smell of rain was thick in the air. He lifted his head to sniff the air before turning to his flock and trying to lead them in a way that wouldn't hurt him.
He still couldn't change into any animal… luckily he was herding way before his power was bestowed upon him and was able to gather all the sheep into the barn. But man, was he tired after he finished running. Halfway there, it started to downpour, and the fog grew thicker, and the clouds turned a deeper grey. But before he could return home, he noticed in the far distance a sheep getting away. Jumped over the stone wall that kept the sheep in and darted off. Evander followed pursuit but wasn't as fast as he could have been if he had been able to change shape. He climbed over the short rock wall and followed in the tall, thick grass. But the sheep was too quick and it disappeared into the thick grey fog ahead of him. That didn't stop him, and he pushed on until he lost where he was. He halted and looked around. He couldn't see anything but the tall grass a few feet in front of him covered in raindrops. He turned around, hoping to just retrace his steps and go home.
But he couldn't find his way back.
He froze when suddenly he heard a deep growl behind him. He still couldn't change his form. And he was unarmed; any attack this beast made, he couldn't defend himself.
As he slowly turned around, he was met by a huge wolf-like creature looking down at him. Its eyes were held so shiny and were half open; it had huge eyebags with deep red under its eyelid that was exposed from the wrinkles under its eye. Its maw was drooped down going past its bottom jaw and had grey around its muzzle. Its fur was a deep black and looked peeled, fake, and wet. Its legs were long and twisted yet stayed standing with long, uneven, mangled claws. Its body was long and very thin; every individual rib was shown as if the skin was not there, and its hips stuck out in a way that looked like it would stab through.
Evander couldn't do anything else but look up in complete horror. At the beast before him. The beast opened its jaw further to speak.
“Are you lost little one?” it sounded soft and spoke with a deep woman’s voice. It seemed kind despite its appearance.
“Y-yes” Evander stuttered, stepping back with fear.
“Tell me, child, last of many, how many lives in the forest fall to your knees?” it asks, walking in a circle around him, keeping its eyes on him. Evander froze, only turning his head to the side slightly to meet its eyes.
“None, I don’t hunt.” Evander stands up straight to hide the fear that he reeked of. The beast moved closer until their faces were inches apart.
“How many wolves fall at your feet?” it snarled, pinning its droopy ears back. He looked up at it too terrified to answer.
“You forget who keeps the forest in check, child,” it spat, bearing its teeth.
“The lives you ruined just in one…” she opens her mouth, “foil…” Evander was paralyzed; he couldn't move as much as he tried to. He felt as if he was rooted to the ground. “Butcher!” it closed its teeth around his neck and pulled away; he saw his throat get ripped out and the joy in this beast’s eye as he fell to the ground.