#this is basically a twisted au of my coal valley stuff

[shapes-den]

Art Prompt Competition Entry

(I had to cut down my submission for the WD competition, by a lot, to match the maximum word count, but I thought I'd post the longer version (that's been spell-checked, haha) for anyone who wanted to read it. I had a lot of fun writing it, and I'm enjoying going through everyone else's submission so far!

Content warning for: Hallucinations/visions, themes of death and mortality, body horror, animal death, mind-altering substances, blood, other horror themes)

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“My name is Bu’ha.”

 “Bu’ha?” Ourkan squinted. “I can’t see you to tell if the name fits.”

“How rude of me, elder.” She stepped forward to allow the old wolf to sniff her.

“A yearling?”

“Yes, I’m a trainee healer, my parents suggested I go on this journey to gain confidence in myself.”

Ourkan huffed. “You seem old for a yearling.”

“Well…” Bu’ha paused, laughing nervously. “I was planning to get over my fear of corpses first.”

Ourkan laughed. “A wolf afraid of food? Well, I won’t ask the real reason.”

“It sounds stupid, but it’s true.”

“Strange.”

“Yes, that’s what I’m doing this for. Mother says I should gain enough life experience that silly things like that won’t upset me”.”

“I’m tired,” Ourkan cut her off, slowly stretched out his front paws and scratched at his ear, looking pained, “You should go find my grandson. Big red wolf, you can’t miss him.” He turned away and curled up, tucking his nose under his tail tip. Ignoring her.

"Goodbye... Elder."

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Bu’ha plodded up the winding path she had found just past the rude elder's resting spot. Perhaps this pack might help her get over her embarrassing phobia? Ever since she was small the thought of death and dying had terrified her. She even sympathised with the prey her pack caught, apologising before eating, but her mother said this was a good quality in a healer. Compassion. Just… maybe not this much. Catching her own food had already driven home the message, the necessity of prey death, but she simply couldn’t rationalise predator death. They fed no one. It seemed so... senseless.

Sniffing out the presence of other wolves, Bu'ha picked up the pace. Ferns, damp from the mid-morning rain, grabbed at her forelimbs as she brushed past them. Chalky-smelling rocks crumbled into a slurry beneath her toes, but she didn't mind, her thoughts were focused on the two wolf pups who were passed out on a bed of sweet-smelling herbs ahead of her, blocking the path.

Smiling to herself, Bu'ha nosed the closest pup, but the smile soon turned to a deep frown. These poor pups were freezing in the cold autumn wind! Angrily she looked around for either parent, before realising that the pups hadn’t moved an inch.

An icy feeling went down her spine. Could they be…?

“What are you doing?!” Her thought was interrupted by the harsh bark of a middle-aged female. “Get away from my nephews!”

“They’re… alive?”

“What a rude, unobservant yearling! My sister’s twins are just sleeping. They happen to have been born with gifts that make them tired.”

Bu’ha took another look, feeling foolish as she saw that both pups were breathing deeply. How could she be so stupid? The two wolves were joined at the hip. Every healer knew that unusual puppies like that were often colder than normal wolves. It was their connection to dead things that made them that way. That same connection meant that they didn’t live long, and she had just been the most ignorant she could possibly have been. Not a great first impression.

“I’m so terribly sorry, your healer and their parents must be amazing at caring for them. Your nephews seem very happy and healthy.”

“Of course, our healer’s the best in the valley!” She said, with a cunning glint in her eye. “In fact, you should go and see her, perhaps you might learn a thing or two about etiquette.”

“Oh! I would love to; I’m planning to be a healer.” Bu’ha wagged her tail, happy to have found an excuse to leave. Meeting the medicine wolf would be a bonus to her learning too. 

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The pup’s aunt had given her very precise directions, seeming to enjoy making her stay and listen for an uncomfortably long time. It served her right though; she had disrespected the poor female’s family members. Bu’ha took a deep breath as she picked her way delicately through puddles and sharp rocks at her feet. It was slow going, but it gave her time to think about her manners at least.

The air was getting colder, but through the damp and moss, she could smell that the healer was close. Herbs and poultices had a distinct leafy smell, that seemed almost bitter to her, and she could've recognised it from a mile away.

Trailing plants hung down over a rocky cliffside at the end of the temporary stream, but there seemed to be no wolf or den in sight. She put her nose to the floor, hoping to pick up a scent, but all she could smell were puddles and an odd metallic tang that made her gag. Probably some rare type of medicine or plant, not that it made the stench of it any less disgusting. Maybe there would be a path on the cliff somewhere? Bu’ha stepped forward and nosed at the sodden, dripping vines. The revolting scent was stronger here, but so was a much sweeter smell of dried flowers, that seemed to be carried on a breeze blowing out of the rock itself. Of course! The medicine wolf must have a den hidden behind the plants. How clever, she thought, to keep any sick wolves where they would be undisturbed. Good for recovery. Now if only she could remember what the healer’s name was…

“Hello?” she whined, “Is a wolf name Huth here? Your packmate Auru sent me.”

A nose suddenly touched her own, causing her to jump at least 10 feet into the air in surprise.

“A visitor!” said the greying muzzle poking out from behind the curtain of greenery, “I never get visitors, come in!” Just as quickly as the nose had appeared, it vanished again, back into whatever cave or crevice it's owner lived in.

“Do… Don’t you want to know why I’m here?” Bu’ha asked, both curious and confused.

“Of course not! It’ll be obvious enough when you get in here, hurry up!”

The yearling laughed, it seemed like learning from this wolf might be fun. Thank goodness this pack’s healer wasn’t as abrasive as the rest of them. She pushed her way eagerly into the cave, taking in her surroundings as her eyes adjusted to the dim light.

An elderly wolf with large patches of fur missing here and there, greeted her with a wagging tail.

“Don’t worry, I’m not contagious if you were wondering,” The old wolf sized her up, almost jealously despite her warm smile “As we get older, healing comes much slower.”

“Oh, of course, I didn’t mean to stare.” This wolf, Huth, was clearly old enough to be envious of the yearling’s youth, but she sounded friendly, and all those years of wisdom would be fascinating to hear about.

Bu’ha fluffed out her fur, not wanting to appear judgemental. Old wolves aren’t dead wolves, she thought to herself, though, she didn’t really believe it looking at Huth.

“You look half-starved. Did my cranky relatives bother to feed you?”

“No, but I- “

The older wolf cut her off by shoving a chunk off meat under her nose.

“Eat up!” She said cheerfully, not pausing for a response.

“… Thank you.” Bu’ha sighed, knowing she couldn’t refuse the hospitality of a shared meal, and whispered a quick apology to the unidentified creature she was eating.

“Custom of your pack?” Huth enquired. The elder was sharp, she hadn’t missed Bu’ha’s quirk. Should she lie? “No, you seem touchy about it. Don’t worry, I won’t judge you. Spirits aren’t just superstition, you know.”

“Oh?”

“I can show you, after your meal. Spirits make the herbs more potent, full of nutrition. Good for growing wolves.” The elder gave her a kind, almost pitying look.

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Both wolves padded softly over snow. Mist rose from the surroundings, but Huth had told Bu’ha this was the magic of the place. Tall, slender trees were silhouetted against the early evening light, in an eerily beautiful way. Bu’ha was enjoying herself, she had already learned a few things, and the air was cool and pleasant to her nose.

“How do you feel?” Huth asked softly.

“Hm? Cold, mostly.”

“Good… Good. Tell me when you can see it.”

The young wolf tilted her head, looking around. Now that she mentioned it, the trees seemed to be swaying in time with her breath, each exhale blowing condensation into the still air. The ground was breathing with her, glistening dewdrops shining with life.

“Do… You mean… spirits?” For some reason her words were slow to reach her mouth. Each step was becoming harder, and yet Huth seemed unaffected by the energy of the forest.

“Shh, shh, you tell me when you see. Tell me what it says.”

“Huuuth…?” Bu’ha felt nauseous, her blood rushed in her ears. Everything felt darker than before. The tree (… were they trees?) moved with greater intensity, with purpose. “What…?”

Black blood dripped down blacker bark, each tree a twisted limb that uprooted itself to crash forwards towards her. Moss melted and bubbled underfoot. Howls of air almost knocked her down as she cowered before a mighty beast. Ragged breaths, bright dead eyes, its ribcage heaved as hers did, sucking the air from her lungs and forcing it back down her throat with no care for her mortal whims.

Each inhale brought a wave of sickness; each brought a tide of death. Small critters curled up and died before her, plants withered and rotted to nothing. All consumed by the black, black blood.

That corpse-like, canine face, an emaciated grimace that pulsated with an air of indifference. Urine soaked into her tucked tail. The slender spirit did not care.

“Tell me what it says!” Her vision was blocked as Huth let out a ragged screech. “I need to know what to do!”

Bu’ha stared up in fear at the mess of flesh that was the older wolf. Every inch of Huth's muzzle throbbed with open yellow pustules, bubbling like molten fat, barely clinging to her rotting bones. Her jaw hung loosely, teeth gnashing at nothing as strangled sounds of desperation left her throat. Her eyes were no more. Instead, her sockets poured forth dark, sticky liquid, that fell down her cheeks and hit the ground with a sickening squelch. Her cries were getting louder. Her head was twitching violently. One paw held Bu’ha pinned to the ground. Her empty sockets remained focused on the yearling.

Not to be ignored, nor constrained by the mere laws of physics, the tall, twisted sprit passed through the medicine wolf, it’s head almost comically small compared to its sinewy neck. Both wolf and spirit blended into one as a strange sense of calm overtook Bu’ha.

How idiotic she had been. Death was inevitable. Death did not care. Death was not…

Her vision faded into

nothingness.

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Pitiful.

Useless.

Pathetic.

Huth kicked her back legs with each contemptuous thought. What a waste of time. The twisted corpse behind her had showed such promise, and yet…

“Too much mountain toad?” She pondered. What a moron. If only she hadn’t been so focused on the approaching winter, she wouldn’t have messed things up for the twins. Might even have cured them before the snow drifts got too deep.

The old wolf’s muscles ached as she bitterly kicked a clump of large icy earth at the yearling.

“Help…” A soft whine came from behind Huth... had she imagined it? Excitement overtook rationality as she turned sharply towards the ‘corpse’. There! Shallow breaths, despite the lifeless eyes.

“Perfect!”

Perhaps she wasn't so useless after all.