The brightness of the world hurts my eyes. I nuzzle my mother with my sisters and brother. It is cold but we endure it together. We drink mother's milk as we need and grow. It's not long until we start running on the plains. My brown coat starts to come in fully now.
Mother takes down a young axen. The Lord was busy with his cows. I study her technique. Ambush while the protectors are busy. We eat well. The plains are bountiful. Its Lord strong. So long as we are not greedy we will survive and grow strong as well. I relish the day I might challenge the Lord for his title. I caution myself though. He has the ability to breathe fire.
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We continue as a pack. Mother has brought forth more siblings as father ranges. He never stays. I feel he is a poor mate for mother. He is but a lesser hound to a different pack. I hope we can integrate another pack into our own. Mother does not feel like we're strong enough to claim dominance yet. It only encourages me to grow.
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I have done it. I have claimed one of the larger axen while my brothers and sisters distract the Lord. We will eat well tonight.
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She chastises me for my victory. Why? Her glower and growl are the opposite of what I expected. We are eating well and rich. And she only can stare into the plains instead of praising me. I don't understand.
Until I do. The Lord of the Plains has arrived at our den. He is alone and he is angry. He stomps one hoof down. A challenge, unfair, he is thrice the power of our mother. The pack growls at him, it is silenced by mother's own snarl. See will face him alone. To pay for our greed. My greed.
I wanted her to succeed. To at least honor us with a show of her strength. But the Lord is too strong. A hoof pins her immediately and his fire takes her head. I start the howl. My pack joins me. I will grow stronger. My coat darkens as I take over from my slain mother.
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I have claimed the pack that my father is subordinate to. He is now under me. I mate with the den mother. As she rests I cull the weaker pups and hounds. My father included. I still can not claim the Plains bounty for our own. Sacrifices are necessary for our pack's survival.
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The season come and go. I watch as bipedal adventurers attack the lord. Some fail. Some succeed. But the Lord persists. Even when brought low he rises again a day later.
I rear our pups and maintain a certain level of excellence. To better prepare our pack. It chafes me that the land's Lord is prey. I would have preferred the bird of the plateau. I see a shadow cross the land. I look up to see the scaled bird. A newcomer to the territory.
It harries the Lord. Its claws dig into its flanks. I feel it is possible the Lord will fall. But such hope is in vain. The newcomer should have studied our Lord better. It does not understand that being in front of its maw is death. The flames burn the scaled bird. Just another failed challenger. I gather my strength. It will be many more seasons before I can challenge him.
Three new adventurers approach. One is bipedal, another walks on six legs while the last is on eight. They look to be similar to other eight legged critters but with bipedal tops where their eyes would be. I never smelled such before. I consider them more. The final one seems the most dangerous. It almost feels like one of the creatures of the plains then one of the adventurers. The Lord sees these new interlopers and attacks.
The two retreat while the eight legged one charges forward. Two things appear in its hands. A bulwark and a blade. Where they came from I can not tell. The smell wasn't there until it was.
A wall of dirt forms to stop our Lord's charge. He breaks it but not before losing his momentum. The new challenger is below its maw. Another fool to be burned. Surprisingly it darts out of the incoming torrent of death. The creature uses its blade but barely scratches the Lord. Its blade is worthless. The Lord kicks the creature away. It tumbles a bit and is dazed when it comes to a stop. Another charge. Instead of dirt, a black watery blob appears in front of the Lord. It rears back. But not before its shoulder touches this new obstruction. Blood shoots out and causes the challenger to shiver. It becomes blood crazed.
Before the Lord recovers the creature burrows itself into the wounded shoulder. A foolish move. It will be crushed by the Lord's own thrashing. A scream is heard and the Lord freezes. The Plain freezes. We all do. All creatures stare as the Lord slowly withers and falls. The Lady of the Plains is born.
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We watch her cull the herd a bit before leaving. It is odd. She was an adventurer but also carried our title with her. It made no sense but she was dangerous all the same.
It was only another cycle of the sky when she appeared again. She walked slowly through the plains. Unconcerned by challengers. She climbed the plateau of the great bird. Will the bird eat her? Or bow? The bird bowed. It was a wise choice. She was stronger since she ate the previous Lord. Unnaturally so, it felt like she carried a part of the Lord with her.
Then the land changed. Even as she left it felt like she was still here. Still under us all. I am not sure that is a comfort.
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My pack grows stronger. No longer are we in fear of the previous Lord. But I do not over hunt. Nor allow my pack the luxury. No longer do the herds have protection but our gluttony could end us anyways. We must be prudent.
Every so many nights the Lady of the Plains would be present. Sometimes there was another who smelled similar to her. Her subordinate. A broken thing. Not always did they walk on eight legs. It was confusing but we all still saw who she was, regardless of her form.
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A new change rippled through the plains, the title has passed on. But the battle was not here. Before we can even understand our new hierarchy, the new Lady of the Plains disappeared. It makes no sense. There is a desire in me to try and claim it. I look to the plateau. The great bird makes no effort to claim this land. Does it know something we do not? I judge the moment too soon.
This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.
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The Lady has returned. But there are two. But one. A Lady of the Plains. An existence of two bodies that share the claim to this land. No longer is the subordinate broken but now an equal of the other. They continue their nightly visits. None of the Plains dare rise up against them.
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Knights have begun searching the land. Do they hunt our Ladies? I do not know. Most are young, but the smallest of them makes me wary. His presence is enough to kill my pack. We leave them to their search.
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An even greater knight walks the land. It is a presence far greater than our Ladies. They stop and move every so often. As if sniffing the air for elusive prey. They reach the nest of the great bird. My future rival falls. It is a bitter parting. Once again I am denied my battle of dominance by a foreign presence. I feel one of the Ladies show up to confront the knights. It's the original one. They bark at each other. A bit of posturing before the battle. She flees before a battle begins. Perhaps she is weaker than I thought.
The strong presence disappears for a moment then comes back. Huffing and weak. But not weak enough to risk a confrontation. This battle feels to be one of attrition and not of brutality.
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It is strange to watch this siege. There are smells that disappear only to appear later weakened. A part of me says to strike. But the strongest scents never disappear. They wait. Then they are gone. It was tempting to raid the camp. My pack wishes to go. I had to assert my role as the leader on the upstart of my son. It quells any further rebellion. A good thing too. The small strong presence has returned. Weakened but not weak enough. I could tear his throat out. But will the next return soon as well?
I do not have to wait long. Another similar to the male has appeared. Weak as well but my odds of winning lowers. Prudence has shown wisdom today. I wait to see if more return.
It is the loss of a Lady that happens next. The battle is with them then. Another of the strong presence returns. The scaled one that slithers. She howls a mournful wail at the sky. Now it is but two against the one. They were the strongest presence. I fear the second Lady will fall.
The scaled one on two legs returns. He barks at the others and the air becomes sullen. They are foreseeing defeat. Can the Lady truly best such a presence. I may not live long enough to be able best such a nightmare. Perhaps my next generation will grow strong enough. The shadow of the day move across the Plains when the final presence reappears.
The lady has bested the siege for now but they still live. She is foolish or weak. They will learn and likely best her next time.
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They are leaving? I do not understand why. But their tails are between their legs and they smell of shame. There is still only one Lady, they should have gone for the kill. I never understood these things. I suppose I never will.
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The original Lady has returned, though diminished. So they are like us then, only one of us may claim the title, otherwise the Plains will return them. But she came back weak. A product of being two, perhaps?
A curious thing happened this night. The second Lady disappeared. In its place was a pale thing with no scent. It wasn't long before the scent of the second Lady returned. She smelled of blood and exuded a scent of satisfaction. I was cowed by the predatory aura she had. While one was weak the other was still plenty strong.
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Both Ladies have been missing. The knights have returned. They begin to build around the plateau. I do not understand it but it fills me with a sense of foreboding. I move my pack back.
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A lady has returned. The second. She is as weak as the other one was. She is surrounded by the scents of those who challenged her before. They prepare for something. Though what I do not know. Then a cackling is heard. It reverberates across the land. It is tinged with a frenzy. One that would slay beyond its needs. I seriously consider taking my pack out of the Plains.
Then the laughter stops and the scents in the area distort. There is something between the Plains and the knights. I caution my pups to not go near the place. The land itself feels as if it is losing a part of itself.
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The Lady's presence weakens. Then stops. It is over. I will need to move my pack, this is no longer a territory. As I begin to howl a surge in presence grows. I turn my head to the unnatural thing that took over the great bird's nest. The aura flickers but Lady has returned. She no longer weakens. The Land still has A Lady of The Plains.
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The knights have fled again. Unable to withstand the might of the Lady. She is alone, and never physically there. A new subordinate joins her. It feels like a part of her soul. But not in the same way as the original Lady. The aura around the nest is gone.
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For a few sky changes the Lady was different. The subordinate carried the title but their scent was different. Similar to the second Lady. She had a menacing aura about her. One that suggested that gluttony was all too willing to be fed should she see you. We hid from her.
And then the subordinate had returned to as they were.
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New bipedals have arrived. Some adventurers, others monks. They occupy the ruined nest. Do they plan war against the Lady? Or do they not know of who lair they intrude on.
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The Lady has been patient. Unbecoming of a title holder. A new knight arrives. There is braying inside her lair. When night falls the subordinate arrives and slays three. She enjoys their life blood but leaves behind their meat. I consider sending out some pups to claim it when the meat moves again. They rot faster than they should, but they move. It happens from time to time. A soul not wishing to return to the Land. But for all three to rise. I feel as if the Lady is creating her own pack. I do not like the smell of it.
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The pack of rotten meat grows. Whenever a large group would approach her lair was just another opportunity for it to grow more. At times the land around her lair would wither and die. But then it will shift back to the stone.
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A great shudder of the Land happened. The Lady feels always present now. No longer hiding. But not moving either. Her presence permeates a piece of stone and metal. How can I claim the title from such?
The aura that covers the stone lair fluctuates. Sometimes warm, other times as cold as the rotten things.
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A new challenger has arrived. They are a far greater threat than any I have seen before. There is a commotion and then our Lady's presence shatters. The stone metal thing was broken. But so was the challenger. So great was the battle that both fell. As the aura of A Lady of the Plains ebbs the subordinate aura floods the area.
The Lady stops dying. But the air is cold now. What was a contained aura now billows across the land. My youngest pups are the first to die. I watch in horror as they do not stay unmoving. I break them before they can attack the others. The rest of my pack grew skittish. We need to leave. I take them north. More of my pack falls as we flee.
There are only so many of us left. And they are covered in black festering wounds. My own body aches, but not as much as my heart. In our haste to flee we did not consider what was in front of us. The scaled one who walks on two legs was in our way. Does he wish to challenge the Lady again? He pulls out his blade. Seems we are to be fodder for his growth. My son attacks. He was followed by his siblings. But I know the end awaits. I flee. Damn myself, I flee as my pack is ended.
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I made it far, alone. My power weakens. My craven nature has warped me. I was only as strong as my pack was united. And now they are gone. A disdainful life. I wander the woods to the north of the bipedals lands. The cold wind was far colder than any other that I knew. The Lady of the Plains warps and kills the land. Her anger must be great.
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The sky has sent rain that freezes. My coat is white now. To better hide. It blends with this new weather. I scrounged for a small thing to eat. But then I feel her. The original Lady has returned. She is stalking me. I am ready. Not to avenge but to die.
She approaches on eight legs. She smells of the rotten thing that has claimed my home. She exudes fear. Of me. That is absurd. But if she is prey and not predator then I will devour her. My leap is true. She makes no effort to escape. My teeth bite down. They sink into her flesh. But her bones are harder than any stone I know. I won't give up. She who brought ruin. I feel her aura, it is fear itself. My teeth start to let go even as I want to kill her. No I must…Her hand is in my chest. It's excruciating as she reaches to the center. It pierces something important. I am returning to the land.
