Chapter Text
The wolf spirit was lonely.
He had enjoyed the world before, the great, gleaming lamps pouring light and life itself across the land.
He'd had a pack then. So much prey to hunt, so many places to explore. Such was his role in this world, and he was content.
Then all at once the seas had risen and rivers of fire had spewed across the land. His prey was scattered, the forests razed to ashes, and the long night fell across the world.
Now it was he and his pack as the hunted under the starlight. The Valar Oromë rode forth time and again on a steed that shone like silver in the shadows. They were pursued relentlessly, struck down by spear or bow until only he remained.
The lonely spirit learned to hide as the ground trembled to the beat of the hooves, to melt away into shadows at the bellow of that hated horn.
It was Melkor who came to him, who offered shelter from the dreaded hunter. Other packs had joined his cause. Other packs had survived.
They were not his pack.
Perhaps safety would be enough.
He continued to roam the dark and dormant forests that remained when he was able. When the air was still and the hunter absent.
Rivers ran deep and cold down mountains and through forests, cutting their paths through solid rock. He did not trust the fast-flowing water, though there were fish to be had, shining bodies darting easily through the torrents.
It was at the banks of one of these that he first encountered one. The sound of frantic splashing, a wordless cry of the like he had never heard before. He saw a strange creature, neither Ainur nor simple animal, caught helplessly in the flow.
The current was dragging it to was dragging it towards him.
Curiously, he waded into the water, capturing the little thing far more easily than a fish. It squealed and flailed as it took it in his jaws, but was unable to squirm free. He held it so gently, as not to break the delicate skin, and made sure to hold it above the level of the water as he waded to the shore.
He deposited it on its back on a dry, sandy patch. It lay there, shaking and coughing, appearing to lack the strength to flee as he sniffed at it.
It was similar in form to the hunter, but far smaller, and he felt no menace from the thing. He had never had a good look at the hunter, not up close. It was as pale as a fish's underbelly, skin bare except for a little thatch of black fur between its legs, two strips above the eyes and, oddest of all, fur that sprouted on all the skull except the face, running smooth and silky down to the lower back.
When he sniffed at the oddly exposed genitals it- he- squeaked, and swiped one of the pale, spidery paws on his forelimbs at his snout, attempting to push him away. The backs of each digit were tipped with the oddest claws he had ever seen, lying flat and transparent over the flesh.
He had vague memories of Song before the world was made, of the children of Illuvatar that would come forth. Elves, were these ones called?
The ever-present hunger gnawed at him, but this little mouthful would do nothing to even begin to satiate it. Creatures of flesh were far too much effort to break down into usable energy, and even with the spark within resembling an ëala, there just wasn't enough to it to be worth trying to eat.
He hoped that the hunter would not take as much interest in this new form of life as it had him.
Perhaps they too, could find shelter with Melkor.
Matter decided, he scooped the little thing up in his jaws and trotted off in the direction of Utumno. Every once in a while, his prize would start shouting and struggling, and he would tighten his hold, ever so gently, until the noise stopped.
It was on one of these occasions that, beneath the cries, he heard a deeper, rhythmic and far more dangerous noise.
Hooves!
In a panic, he dropped the elf, which did not help the volume in the slightest. He examined the srawā a final time, and called upon his own fana to shift and bend.
It took a few minutes for him to get everything in the right place, and the elf had scrambled up to flee as soon as the reconfiguration of his bones became audible. It felt strange to balance on two legs, falling forward with each step until equilibrium was met.
The elf was still shouting, and he easily caught up, having made his legs longer and thicker. He pressed one hand over the mouth and wrapped his other around the belly, holding the elf's back against his body. He closed his own mouth and took experimental breaths through the nose to confirm the elf could breathe and dragged him into the shadows of the trees.
He froze as the hoofbeats drew nearer and, at last, the elf noticed them too, going limp in his arms. He removed his hand from his mouth, concerned that he may have got the breathing mechanism wrong. In response, the elf twisted in his hold, standing to face him and looking up at him curiously.
The spirit had chosen the larger form and darker skin he associated with the hunter, leaving the elf eye level with his chest. He must have been warmer, too, the way the elf leaned into his touch and finally stopped shivering.
Feather light, a presence brushed against his mind, curious but wary—a question.
<What are you?>
He followed the presence back to its source, spreading himself across the outer boundaries of the mind, nearly engulfing it. His kind were older than this world, older than ainur. Out in the void, they had hunted beings of light and song, devoured the lonely stars that strayed too far from their homes. They had been drawn to the Song, to this fledgling world, and had been hunted with extreme prejudice to eradicate their contamination once they took form here.
He had barely begun to formulate an answer when the elf's knees buckled, and he quickly withdrew, maintaining the minimal contact that had been initiated. He was fascinated by the way those long legs folded, and slid his own back down the trunk of the tree, coming to rest on the cool ground with the elf facing him on his lap, straddling him.
He pushed his mind forward again, more gently this time, and allowed his memories to flow directly into the receiving phayā. As he did so, he risked stroking the long fur on his head, to see if it was as silky as it looked, to which the elf happily leaned in to. He'd made his own head fur dark and shaggy as he was used to, reaching only shoulder length to avoid getting snagged.
<You are ñgwaurō?>
The images he was sent in turn were those of flashing eyes and sharp teeth in the darkness. Clearly, he had not been the first to encounter them. He felt an upwelling of trepidation from the elf, and then the mind opened more fully.
He could feel the warmth of his own body, the comforting touch of his hands, and the coolness of the air. He could feel hunger, thirst, exhaustion, and the beat of a living heart. Focusing on his own feelings, he tried to relay that he did not mean harm, stroking the smooth back in a way he now knew to feel pleasant.
Nendil, the elf was called.
They sat like that for a while, until the elf stopped shivering. Nendil asked to see the world as it had been under the light of the lamps over and over, delighting in its vibrancy, in all the shades of green and how beautifully the light had played across water.
He loved the feelings of peace and joy that flowed through the connection, far stronger than anything he'd felt before.
Their reverie was broken by the sound of distant screams, and he felt his emotions sour with fear and worry. He could feel Nendil's impulse to jump to his feet and run to his kin, and held him tighter.
When Nendil squirmed, he showed him his own experiences, his own helplessness against the rider. He stroked down the length of his back reassuringly until the cries faded, staying still and quiet as the thundering hoofbeats came once more and passed them by.
Only then did he set the elf on his feet and shed the clumsy bipedal form he had taken. Instead of grabbing Nendil in his mouth, he lay down for the elf to mount him, as the rider did his steed.
It took a few minutes to find the right rhythm, but soon Nendil sat astride him comfortably, hands buried in the thick fur of his neck as he ran towards where the sounds had emitted.