Chapter 11 Intro

Chapter 11

Miracles, dear reader, are a wonderful thing. They streak ugly paintings with hope, when all the facts prove wrong. They are small openings of light in a tunnel of darkness, a broken bird soaring into the sky.

They always leave questions, dear reader, yet they leave a sky with so much sun that nobody asks any.

A miracle, dear reader, is exactly what happened to a lonely wolf named Shadestorm the day he met a beautiful wolf named Whistlewind. Yet what he didn’t know, was that one day in the future, another miracle would come his way. 

Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Shadestorm drifted into the hazy murmurs of night. “I hope the Jungle Tribe is kind.” He wondered. He had been worrying about it through the many days they had been walking, and he had finally revealed his thoughts.

“I’m sure they’ll be fine.” Whistlewind reassured, though she had been worrying too. What if the Jungle Tribe wouldn’t allow them to join? What would they do then? Most of her good thoughts scurried out of her grasp, leaving on varying thoughts crowding her mind.

Soon they neared the entrance. It was a dark, gaping cave that Whistlewind imagined was laughing at them.

Finally, they took the plunge and reluctantly drifted in.

Suddenly, salty swipes of water clawed the rocky ground. It clogged their throats, knocking out sunlight in a wet rage. It never stopped hissing and lapping and dumping and falling. It shoved it’s watery depths all over the room, similar to the watery eyes of it’s innocent victims.

“Swim!” Shadestorm called over the rising spray, yet it was too late. Gushes of water rose and fell, drifting the two wolves apart.

Whistlewind, far into the water, was going down. Her paws stung with the pain of swimming too long, and soon all she knew was darkness and water, darkness and water…

Suddenly she burst out of the flood, gasping for breath and greedily drinking the air in. Shadestorm was strongly paddling through it, his fur sleek and wet. He pulled Whistlewind into a sandy bank, looking surprisingly comftarable in the water.

Whistlewind collapsed, hardly breathing. “Whistlewind!” He cried. “Oh, why did I drag you into this mess! I was so selfish, I should’ve known the tribe might pull a trick like this…” He blabbered on, salty tears coming to his eyes. He only comforted in Whistlewind’s raspy, gasping breath, and with each one she took Shadestorm wondered whether it would be her last. 

Finally, it stopped completely. Shadestorm buried himself in her sweet, gray fur. She couldn’t have died… no… Suddenly, all Shadestorm knew was sadness. It tugged at his weak heart, convincing him to give in to the darkness. He howled in grief, his voice rising high and dipping low, carrying the sweet cry of lost hope and Whistlewind, the love of his life. But now…

She was gone. The waves had covered her. Tears splattered down and clouded his dreams with Whistlewind, who made him laugh and smile, who reassured him, who loved and helped and teased him… was gone.

Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Whiteclaw drank in the sweet scent of the morning air. She sighed and lay on her side, groaning as someone’s teeth shook her scruff back and forth. “G-ge offa me!” She lazily mumbled, her eyes blinking against the bright morning sun.

         “Your about to fall off!” The voice shouted. Whiteclaw gasped as she stared into the foggy jungle depths below.

         “Where are we?” Whiteclaw had just noticed that her fur was dirty and matted, and was smoothing it out with careful licks. She realized that the last time she had done this was faraway in The Dawn Forest. “How far away I’m from that place now.” She thought, accidently out loud.

         Sunstreak’s ear twitched. “What did you say?”

         “Nothing.” Whiteclaw replied. “Where are we?” She repeated.

         “No idea.” Sunstreak answered, and with the turn of her head she was asking the owl.

“You fell asleep mid-conversation.” The owl paused, murmuring “One second, I think we’ve reached our destination.” He quickly swooped down, putting images of falling passengers in Sunstreak’s and Whiteclaw’s heads.

         They drifted deeper and deeper into the wet, misty, jungle vines. Wet fog blanketed the air, reflecting Sunstreak’s foggy, cluttered thoughts misting over more important ones.

“Where are we?” Sunstreak questioned. The owl just ignored her.

         “We’re here!” The owl singsonged. As he spoke, an icy breeze passed swept through the fog.

         “Where is here?”

         “The jungle tribe of course! And my name is Snap. Snapdragon Hoot-hoot Emeraldhorn of the Furry Scruffs. Of course, even though my family goes back to the first owls, and is very distinguished, you can just call me Snap. Each name dates back…” He would have been happy to continue proudly lecturing about his extraordinary family history, but could see a hint of boredom on Sunstreak’s face. So he stopped, standing tall and proud.

         Snap didn’t wait for a reply to his speech. He slowly wobbled towards the jungle, shivering in spite of the warmth. Suddenly he blasted to the ground, surging through the cool air.

         Whiteclaw felt as if her fur was on fire, while full of icy clumps of stinging drifts of snow at the same time. She howled in pain, yet no sound came out.

         Sunstreak was enduring something similar, and her paws were so numb she nearly screamed in terror and hurt. Finally they shuddered to a stop.

Chapter 8

Chapter 8

His deep blue eyes scanned the room, eyeing for intruders. Finding none, he sighed, satisfied. He wanted no one to bother him as he napped. Though, he really never did.

He tried to get up, only for his scaly head to hit the cavernous ceiling. He roared in anger, the earsplitting shriek echoing through the darkness. His claws scraped loudly across the ground, shredding his steak meal into scraps of ripped up meat like nails on a blackboard. “Servant!” He yelled, his deep, loud voice, blaring through the tunnels. He twisted his gigantic tail slightly, accidently smacking it into the wall with a sound like a volcano eruption, as rocks sprayed down from the wall and mice scurried out of the ruins.

“Yes?” The servant squeaked, his expression mortally terrified. “Da- do y-you n-n-need anythu-thing?” He stuttered.

“I need a larger room.” The beast grumbled. The servant quickly nodded, a bit too fast, clambering out of the room in an effort to get out. “Wait.” The beast ordered. The servant came to a saddened halt.

“Wha-what is it you need yo-your highness?”

“A new meal as well.”

“Ye-yes your highness.”

“HOP TO IT!  GET OUT OF HERE ARE BRING ME MY FOOD, YOU LOUSY SERVANT!”

The servant raced out of the room in terror, rushing so quickly he nearly tripped down the creaky staircase leading to the kitchen.

Back down in the cave, looking at the great pile of boulder and crumbling stone that used to be a cave wall. He sighed, staring at his long claws. “I wish I didn’t have such a temper.” He yelled at himself. He walked through the tunnels, his heavy footsteps thundering through the halls like a herd of elephants.

He stopped at a small lake of cool, misty water that was more of a puddle from his height. He stared into his reflection, disgust staining his soulful eyes. “Why do I have to look so terrifying?” He growled to his reflection angrily, his eyes crackling with anger and sadness like a flicking match. In his anger, he , whipped his claws through the water, spraying musty splashes over his scaly back. He backed away from his reflection. “I deserve to live in this disgusting cave.” He thought. “I’m mean and ugly and have a bad temper. I deserve to be so terrible and ugly.” He halted at this thought.

“Wait a moment!” He yelled to himself. His eyes weren’t stained with disgust, now they were stained with darkness. “It is the kingdom’s fault!” He blamed angrily. “They are the ones that keep me so ugly in this dark cave. I wouldn’t have such a temper if they bothered to be kind!” He went along like this for a while, plotting in his mind and shouting out his storm of ideas.

His eyes glowed with hate. “I will do anything.” He sneered. “To get sweet, sweet, revenge…”

Chapter 7

 Chapter 7: A Message From Your Loyal Author

Now, I know what you are thinking. Do not try to deny it. You are likely wondering, "Who is the beast?" and "Why, dear narrator, have you abandoned me throughout this entire confusing tale and have decided to speak now?" 

Well dear reader, your questions will be answered quite soon actually. But for now, we must discuss book matters. I will hereby explain to you, dear reader, what this confusing tale is about.

 It is about two wolves who live in a forest, and are magically chased by random hunters and suddenly, they land in a strange unknown castle where they run after some love-obsessed wolves only to find themselves meeting a five foot tall owl, who decides to dispose of them!

Now now, dear reader, don't give me such a confuzzled expression. I was just, how to you pronounce that phrase? Oh yes, just kidding. Now, don't look annoyed now. A good narrator must always have a good sense of humor, do they not?

Actually, this book is about two wolves who lived in a forest, were chased by hunters, and were saved by dawn wolves. The sister, Whiteclaw, gets a tour from a wolf named Mangopelt, (the guardian of herbs) who transports herself, and accidentally Whiteclaw, to the emerald kingdom, a dawn region. There lives the guardians, who howl the moon into the sky, rule over and guard all the regions with a respected eye, create laws and peace among the regions, and so on. But lately trouble has been stirring... I will leave it at that.

 Now, oh look at the time, I very well must hurry up! I will quickly answer your cluttered pile of questions which you have taken the kindness to put them, not quite that well organized, right upon my delicate china desk which is an antique. You also brought me a glass of tea, probably as a bribe, which you have now spilled.

Wow, I must say, lovely manners. (That, my dear reader, is known as sarcasm.)  Here, let me see. I must shuffle through these questions, one moment please.

 Ok, let me see question number 1: "Who is the beast?" The beast is a giant blue lion, with extraordinary speed, a mind-shattering roar, and severe anger issues. He lives deep in the tunnels, lurking, and patiently waiting for his next victim.

Why, you may ask, is that terrible creature their Welcomer? (yes dear reader, I added a small laugh into my twisted tale. The terrifying, gigantic, mean lion is named, "Welcoming.") Well, he only acts rude if you are not welcomed, or are not a guest. (If you are welcomed, or a guest, he uses kind, polite manners, and usually invites you to a warm cup of tea.) Yet actually, he is very kind. He... sorry, I gave away too much. Next question.

question number 2: "Why dear narrator, have you abandoned me through th-

 Readers these days! I cannot believe you ask me such a rude question like that, when the clear answer is, "I was busy." Next question.

 question number 3: "Can I have that rare diamond ring back?" What rare diamond ring? Oh I see, its right on my table as yet another bribe.

Oh wait, it's gone. I am not suprised.

question number 4: Sorry for spilling the milk. It was an accident. -quiet laughs and chuckles erupt nearby- Wait a moment, I hear something... Oh get over here! I know your hiding!

Oh, how wonderful. All my important questions are now drenched in apple juice. Whichever selfish children who did this are quite rude. Now the only questions left are... (Picks up question) question number 5: That was an accident too. Oh I've had it! Goodbye, and please enjoy the rest of the book.

                 -Mr.Loyal Author, or by my unformal name, "Joe, that guy who writes those crazy stories."

Chapter 6

                                    Chapter 6 

Gasps echoed through the room. “Shadestorm.” Lakestar growled. “I told you that you’d marry Dawnstripe to unite the two kingdoms!”

“Well it’s just…” Shadestorm struggled to find a way to say how he felt, knowing that if he shared his feelings Lakestar wouldn’t understand. Finally he forced himself to quickly say, “I don’t love her.”

A trickle of understanding swept across Lakestar’s face, yet he pushed it away. “I understand she isn’t what YOU may want.” He growled. “But it is not about what YOU want. It is about what the KINGDOM wants.” He realized his tone was a bit harsh, yet it was too late to take back his words.

“But…” Shadestorm stumbled half-heartedly, knowing he had lost this argument. “Me and Whistlewind are meant for each other.”

Lakestar sighed. “You may love each other, but that doesn’t change anything. Dawnstripe is coming tomorrow for your wedding.”

Shadestorm looked depressed. “No! But you can’t.” His voice got softer, the depression of the moment sinking in.

Whistlewind looked at the floor, ashamed of herself. Shadestorm looked into her eyes, drinking in the sight of his love before they were separated. “Don’t be ashamed.” Shadestorm murmured to her. “It’s my fault.” He frowned at the ground, his tail sweeping with shame and disappointment.

“It seems that that matter is settled.” Lakestar announced. The other wolves chattered and whispered excitedly at the newfound drama, quieting down at Lakestar’s warning glare. “It is time we settled down for the night.” He barked. “Sunstreak, please show Whiteclaw to her guest room.”

The two worried wolves hurried out of the room, grateful for the privacy their room allowed.
“Follow me.” Sunstreak whispered. They padded up the creaky wooden steps, the moonlight pouring shadows across the dozens upon dozens of marble corridors.

Finally, right before Whiteclaw collapsed with effort, they reached the top floor. Whiteclaw was led into a giant bedroom, with red jadestone columns and famous paintings and portraits of royalty from long ago. A fluffy rug rested on the wooden floor, made of red mouse fur and rare tropical feathers.

But that was nothing compared to the bed. It’s posts towered over the room, and it had a small balcony above it, like a bunk bed. The top bunk was more of a den, with posters and photos crowding the walls and small patches of moss for relaxing in. Ink dripped from a feathered-purple pen lying on the floor, unlike anything Whiteclaw had seen before. Bones, sticks, and hibiscus flowers lay in neat piles, next to the patches of moss.

“Your room is…” Whiteclaw struggled to find the right word. Amazing? Fantastic? Terrific? “Breath-taking.” Whiteclaw breathed.

“This is your bed.” Sunstreak padded over to a second bed, almost as magnificent as the first.

Suddenly, Shadestorm raced in, huffing and puffing and gasping for breath. "I'm leaving." He explained.

"What!" Sunstreak exclaimed. "But... you can't."

"Yes I can." Shadestorm replied sadly, pausing to glance back at his mate. "I don't love-"

"Yes yes I know." Sunstreak cut in angrily. "You don't love Dawnstripe."

"I'm sorry." Shadestorm murmured. Sunstreak wanted to convince him to stay, but his eyes looked determined.

"You can't leave me here alone!" Sunstreak cried. "So much..." Responsiblity. Chores. Your the only one who understands me!" She corrected herself when seeing Whiteclaw's annoyed expression. "You, and Whiteclaw are the only ones who understand me."

"I'm leaving now,"Shadestorm stated.

"But but..." Sunstreak stumbled. "Where will you go?" She knew she had lost this argument, but it wasn't terrible to keep trying.

"We'll be going to Tropical Rock." Shadestorm replied. "We'll stay near the Misty Mines, with the Wolf Tribe  that lives there."

"I'll miss you so much." Sunstreak said wistfully, walking forward to touch noses with her brother. "Goodbye." Whistlewind and Shadestorm said their goodbyes, promising to write to them, and left. Whiteclaw had a lot of questions, and hardly waited before jumping into what she wanted to say.

"You let them leave, just like that?" She roared. "Tropical Rock doesn't even have messengers to pass hieroglyphs back and forth! They all get eaten by snakes! And I can't even read hieroglyphs..."

"Quiet!" Sunstreak warned, growling to empathize her angry words. "I have a plan."

"Oh." Whiteclaw murmured. "What is it?"

"We follow them." Sunstreak planned. "Follow me." She crept into the mud path hallway, not even waiting for a response.

Whiteclaw stalked behind her, cringing as the wood creaked on the staircase. It was late, and surely they would be punished for being up and about at this time.

Soon they drifted outside, taking in the fresh autumn air. The crackling leaves swayed in the breeze, glowing blue by the deep moonlight being poured down like spilt milk.

Soon they spotted Whistlewind and Shadestorm walking in the distance, their tails curled around each other's. "Wow." Whiteclaw breathed, her eyes sparkling. "I've never seen two wolves so much in love."

"Wait a moment." Sunstreak realized. "Where did Mudfoot go?" Her eyes glanced at a second shadow walking by the two love-dazed wolves. It was attached to a yellow-brown cat, and Sunstreak  instantly recognized the sandy brown ripped tail. "It's Mudfoot." She whispered. "He must've sneaked out with them after they visited us."

They continued to follow the runaway wolves, taking quick breaks to catch a squirrel or two. Soon the sun rose up into the sky, warming the dark green grass shoots popping up from the forest floor. Suddenly, five foot tall flowers started growing from the ground, and in a few minutes their petals brushed against the sky. Sparkling vines wrapped themselves around the tall tree trunks too. "This must be the Enchanted Forest!" Whiteclaw leapt through the tall grass, until her eyes drooped. 

"I'm exhausted." Grumbled Sunstreak. "We've been following them all night."

"But what if they get ahead of us?" Whiteclaw wondered. "Then we'd never find them!"

"Wait a moment... I think I remember my father talking about air travel here..." Suddenly a dark shadow passed over the two friends. They gasped, peeking up into the sky, their eyes straining to spot the strange creature. They nearly fainted when a five-foot tall barn owl swept over, folding his wings down and ruffling his tired feathers. 

"Hello." He greeted warmly.

"He-hello." Whiteclaw stumbled. "Who are you?" 

"A messenger owl of the Tropical Rock Tribe." The owl proudly quoted, as if he had been practicing that line and repeating it over and over just for an occasion such as this one.

"Do you know where my brother is?" Sunstreak cut in.

"Actually." The owl hooted. "I was looking for him too." He pecked at his feathers worriedly, his beak curling into an expression of single-minded commitment. "I must find him." The owl hooted again, his eyes practically burning with determinedness. 

"Your... looking for him?" Sunstreak asked, confused.

"Why yes, of course. I was sent here on a quest to find him. He sent a message to the tribe, telling them he would be there. I need to tell him that they don't have Oak Stamp mail service."

"And..." He added, his determined, yet worried eyes showing that his message was not only about mail service. 

He paused briefly to collect his thoughts. He seemed reluctant to tell them, his eyes finally giving in to Sunstreak and Whiteclaw's expectant faces.

"I need to tell him that..." He leaned in closer, his eyes searching for anyone nearby that could hear. 

"Just tell us already!" Sunstreak snapped impatiently.

 "There was a flood in Tropical Rock. The main entrance has an enchantment, so you have no idea there is a flood in the main chamber, until you walk in. The Welcomer twists the knob to lower his raft, and if you are an unwanted or uninvited guest he will not let you in." The owl blabbered on.

"But isn't Shadestorm a guest? And if he isn't, can't they tell The Welcomer to let him in?" Sunstreak asked.

"The Welcomer isn't an owl or wolf. Hes..." The owl gulped. "He's the Beast."