#packform

“You believe this is enough to keep him-me-in?” Oaken questioned.

“These are thick brambles, it will suffice.” The voice went silent for a time. “There’s time still, to change your mind.”

“My mind is set.”

“As soon as you shift, I will open the box. Any questions before we begin?”

“No.”

“Alright, well-“

“Yes, yes one question.”

The hooded figure waited.

Oaken traced a line in his palm. “You’re certain that the box and the pain will…be enough? Enough to bring me back?”

“I suspect so.”

“A suspicion is not reassuring.” Oaken’s fist balled up nervously.“One more question...are we hungry? Do we want some bread first? Was it necessary to do this in such a dark forest? I just feel like we don’t really know each other, what do you like to do...when you aren’t deep in the woods wearing a hood and...being shade-like? Why the hood? I have a hard time wearing hoods myself, always have to cut holes through them for my ears. By that point I ask myself-” He swallowed, trying to wet his drying throat. “why the hood? If it’s not really going to keep my ears warm then-”

“Shall we begin Oaken?”

Casting a glance through the brambles at the hooded figure, Oaken nodded.

The shift did not happen smoothly or quickly. It was awkward to watch. Similar to witnessing a wobbling toddler learning to run, looking for all the world as if they are about to fall on their face with each new step. However, after a time, where one stood a  Kaldorei , prowled a large grey wolf.

The hooded figure opened the box.

(Click here to hear what’s inside the box)

The wolf’s ears twitched at the light tinkling sound of the music box. It glanced towards the noise. The hooded figure could still see the Oaken in its eyes. Oaken began to curiously circle the bramble cage.

 As three minutes turned into four, and four minutes stretched on to eight, the eyes changed. The calculating look in them gradually fell into caution, then began to roll from side to side with a detached and feral gaze.

The soft melody continued on, contrasting with the occasional snarls and low growls emitting from the wolf. As the ninth minute struck, the wolf lashed forward at the brambles with teeth bared, tail sticking straight out. It whipped its head back and forth, spittle flew everywhere as its deep throated growls turned into sharp barks.

Then, the tenth minute hit.

A loud piercing ring sounded from the music box. The hooded figure heard nothing. The music box had been created to let out a high frequency that only the keen ears of certain animals could pick up. The wailing ring raked against the wolf’s skull. It fell into the brambles huffing.

Pulling an iron poker from the fire behind him, the hooded figure parted a section of the brambles. The tip of the rod burned a brilliant bright orange from the heat.

Golden eyes rolled around in their sockets from the pain coming from the screeching of the music box. They gave no notice to the approaching being.

 Footsteps stopped at the wolf’s side. The figure lowered the iron poker to rest an inch from the beast’s ribs.

“When the melody ends, your time as the beast is up. You will have your fill of pain until you flee back into your natural form and find refuge and healing there.”

Later at Bedtime

Oaken fell heavily onto his bedroll. The soft colors of dawn had morphed into the sharper colors of day and were shining on him through the tree leaves.

Turning on his side, Oaken nestled his head into the crook of his arm. He’d heard what the others had said-knew what their whispers meant. Closing his eyes, he tried to still his mind. Like the fish on the spit, he turned over and over.

At one point he sat straight up, looked around helplessly, then flopped over onto his stomach and rested his chin on his arms. 

His long exhale stirred the blades of grass hovering near his bedroll. Reaching out with his mind, Oaken guided one blade of grass to fold into the shape of a dragonfly. He watched as it folded its wings up and down. Up and down. Up and down. The dragonfly made of grass looked as if it would break free of its roots and take flight. 

Will I ever take flight?

Up and down. Up and down. Up and down. Oaken drifted off to sleep.

The Dream

He stood in the middle of a glen. A perfect circle of Alder trees surrounded him. Their pale bark let off a soft glow under the moonlight.

Yearning to go touch one of the Alders, Oaken tried to take a step forward. He couldn’t move. With a glance he saw that vines held him fast around his calves. He was rooted. 

A flash of light called his attention upwards.

One lone star was falling in a silver streak. Before hitting the ground, it dissolved into a shining mist. The mist hovered and swirled. Four feline legs appeared, followed by the body and head of a dawnsaber. The silver beast began to walk towards Oaken, grace in every step.

Another flash of light blinked in the night sky. The Kaldorei turned his head.

The second star shattered into silver star dust. The dust morphed into a vortex which shaped itself into the form of a silver bear standing on hind legs. The bear bent over and began to amble towards Oaken, matching the dawnsaber’s pace.

Flash. A teardrop line of silver broke the blackness of the night yet again.

From the streak of silver emerged a majestic stag. It shook its antlered head and joined in the slow parade.

Flash.

As the ground neared, another silver streak looped up once more then morphed into a brilliant fowl. Each flap of its wings emitted a small shower of light as it began to glide towards Oaken along with the others.

Flash. 

Oaken lifted his head to see another star. This moved through the sky differently than the others. Rather than fall, it charged. It hurtled through the night and crashed into the ground sending a wave of white mist roaring through the glen.

The mist subsided and in its place stood a massive silver wolf, its head held high. It waited.

 As Oaken met its eyes it lowered its head and held the Kaldorei’s gaze.

Then, in a sudden jerk of motion, the wolf jolted into a sprint around the glen. It dashed through the dawnsaber, ran through the bear, tore through the stag, and leapt through the fowl. Puff, puff, puff, puff. They were gone.

The wolf turned to face Oaken with knowing eyes. I am yours and you are mine.

Then it charged once more.

“Agh!” Oaken woke with a start and pushed himself up onto all fours.