NALLI

  Under the silvery sheen of Nuni Lunikk, the Great Mother, the frosty moon, the snow-covered Frostspire Mountains lay draped in an eerie, haunting quiet. The moonlight, casting an ethereal glow, turned the endless expanse of snow into a luminous, glistening blanket that seemed to go on forever. Each flake caught in the pale light sparkled; a myriad of tiny diamonds scattered across frozen ground.

  Towering pines, their needled branches heavy with snow and encompassed in the cold grip of winter, stood as silent, stoic titans guarding the quiet expanse of the night. Their dark and jagged silhouettes muted against the crisp white backdrop, creating a surreal, almost foreboding landscape. The shadows within their embrace wove through gnarled branches, dancing and shifting as the wind cried its mournful song through the frigid forest.

  In kind, the air was bitterly cold. If one were to exhale, each breath would become a visible cloud that quickly dissipated into the night. Meanwhile, the full moon, suspended and magnified, illuminated the frost that clung to every surface, emphasizing the shadows that seemed to writhe under her cold and beautiful gaze.

  A gentle, haunting silence enveloped every part of the forest, broken by the occasional creak of heavy snow-laden branches, and in the distance, the eerie call of a snow owl. The stillness felt as if the entire forest was just waiting, holding its breath for something unseen to break the silence. In this dark and frosty moonlit night, the clouds above started to build, moving and billowing with impending energy. They were soundless giants across the sky in a world awaiting their approach. Every so often these clouds would overcast the moon, covering the landscape in shadowy darkness. In whole, the mountain forest stood not only alluring, but silent and desolate. It was a place where time seemed to stand still, save for the billowing clouds moving above, and beneath the haunting illumination of the great moon.

  Amid the soft light of the forest, a massive figure moved with caution through the snow. She was a Direhound, a formidable and imposing predatory creature akin to a wolf on two legs, her immense shape projecting a long shadow across the frozen ground. Her light gray fur, nearly white, was flecked with darker shades and blended almost seamlessly with the snowy landscape, except for the simple hide garbs she wore around her waistline. Her eyes gleamed like molten gold, living amber in appearance, and piercing through the darkness with a watchful intensity above her unique, plum-colored, canid nose. The light gray hair that sprouted from the top of her head streaked backward down her neck, gently flowing with a snow-speckled sheen, faintly accented by streaks of soft purple that shimmered in the moonlight as though it were brushed by amethyst.

  With each step she took, the snow crunched softly beneath her heavy paws. Her senses were distinctly attuned to the subtle sounds of the forest. This was her home, the Nightmoon Veil. She was more than just familiar with the distant rustle of branches, the soft whispers on the wind, and the the faint crackling of ice beneath the snow. Her large, pointed ears, too, twitched and swiveled, tracking every movement in the surrounding darkness.

  The direhound’s eyes were constantly shifting, searching, her head held low, her body tensed for any sudden shift in the atmosphere, her body and mind poised for confrontation. The serene beauty of the night stood alongside the tension in her stance; she was aware from her upbringing that the forest, though tranquil in appearance, could hide unseen dangers lurking just beyond the reach of Nuni Lunikk's moonlit edge. Her intense, predatory instincts, learned over countless seasons, kept her alive, every muscle alert and ready for danger as she navigated through the terrain before her.

  Despite the cold that seeped through her fur, a bead of sweat trickled down her furred brow, mingling with the frost that clung to her fur. The direhound continued to move with wild and elegant grace befitting her kind. In her status, she was a great and mighty predator, and her movements were that of one cautioned, a seasoned hunter-warrior with years of experience. Her eyes maintained their scan of the darkness for any sign of movement that might betray a lurking threat. In the stillness of the forest, she was a solitary figure, both part of and apart from the chilling beauty around her.

  The breeze, which had been gentle up until now, suddenly picked up as the storm clouds above moved in, carrying with it a scent that came across her plum-colored nose. The scent made her nostrils flare and her muscles tense. It was a sharp, acrid odor, and one she recognized all too well. Something was hunting her. Something—no, someone, that didn’t belong to the natural terrain of the Frostspire Mountains, and the realization hit her with a startling jolt of alarm.

  Her amber eyes widened as she caught the faint rustle of movement among the shadows somewhere to her left. The breeze had shifted the scent toward her, making it unmistakably clear that her unseen pursuer was much closer than she had anticipated. Panic surged through her, driving her to sprint on her powerful legs, her massive shape and long arms cutting through the crisp air with urgency.

  She darted forward, stepping on an ancient fallen tree and leaping forward in a movement that carried little effort, her long wolven tail trailing behind her. The brittle bark of the tree snapped beneath her immense weight, but she barely registered the sound in her flight. Her heart pounded as she bounded into a small clearing near a steep cliffside, the open space offering the briefest of respites from the oppressive darkness of the Frostspire forest behind her.

  But before she could fully process the fleeting safety of the clearing, a stinging pain exploded in her shoulder. She staggered, her legs nearly giving way beneath her as a long dart embedded itself in her flesh. The offered moonlight of Nuni Lunikk that had seemed so serene and tranquil moments before, now felt mocking in her cold, cool light.

  The direhound’s breaths were forced out in ragged gasps as she stumbled, her pupils wide, interwoven between feeling both pain and alarm. She reached up with her opposite claw and ripped the stinging needle from her shoulder and tossed it away before the poison she assumed it contained could further penetrate her body.

  No, not yet! She panicked, as the mission she was burdened with pressed at the forefront of her mind.

  She had hoped for more time, but now she was left vulnerable and alone, the realization sinking in that her secret escape had been compromised.

  Wincing from the pain in her shoulder, the direhound forced herself to turn around and face her pursuer. The clearing that had briefly offered hope had become an unwilling participant for a confrontation she could no longer avoid. And now, her breaths were becoming more ragged; she could feel as something unfamiliar crept its way through her veins. Her resolve unyielding, she forced as much strength as she could muster into her muscles. Running was never truly an option for her kind; direhounds were born and raised to become full-fledged warriors, and fighting was in their blood.

  As she turned, her eyes fell upon the edge of the clearing where the cliffside dropped into an abyss of snowy darkness below. It was precarious positioning, but there was no backing down from what was to come.

  Her gaze settled on her pursuer: a posek. The creature was a formidable opponent. An immense assassin feline of the most menacing sort, with ebony black fur that shimmered in the moonlight. It was clad in a black-stained leather vest that seemed to blend seamlessly with the shadows. Adorned on it were rows of daggers and pockets designed specifically for the posek's treacherous profession.

  The posek stood tall and menacing on its two legs, its glittering green eyes locked onto the direhound with a cold, triumphant glint. The assassin’s gaze was overflowing with victorious pride, as if it relished the moment of dominance. The direhound could see the faintest lines of a smirk beneath the shadowy mask of its feline face. The posek was a master of stealth and combat, and its mere presence radiated of chilling confidence.

  Despite the intense pain and the dart’s lethargic poison starting to work its way through her body, the direhound straightened herself, readying for a fight she knew she could not afford to lose. Her muscles tensed as her eyes locked onto the posek’s own abominate stare. The cliffside behind her was a tumultuous obstacle, but there was no retreat. She had come too far on her mission to let this assassin end it here.

  With a snarl that echoed through the clearing, she prepared for the battle ahead. The posek’s dominating stance was a challenge, and the direhound, though weakened and cornered, was ready to rise to it. The light from Nuki Lunikk above disappeared as heavy clouds covered her glow and flakes of snow began darting across the clearing from an incoming storm. As the light faded, the posek’s eyes grew more vivid and menacing, glowing in the landscape’s darkened state.

  Then, the posek began to circle the direhound with a slow gait, each step leaving faint impressions beneath their wake. The crunch of snow under its powerful paws was almost rhythmic, punctuated by a soft, pitying tisking noise originating from the posek, its tongue clicking against its long, saber-teeth. It was to mocking the direhound’s predicament. The assassin’s eyes glinted with disdain as it prowled around, its ebony fur rippling with each movement.

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  With an accented voice laced with contempt, the posek spoke, its tone dripping with scorn. “Well, well, look how the mighty direhound struggles. I must admit, I expected a longer chase. What discourage, to have found you so quickly.”

  The direhound’s muscles tensed with pain from the poison working its way through her blood, but she forced herself to stay focused on the posek’s movements. The mocking commentary only fueled her anger, even as the posek continued its cruel taunts, its thick, black tail whipping irritatingly through the snow flaked air as he spoke.

  “Disappointing, that the hunt is over far sooner than anticipated,” the posek continued, its voice a low, dangerous purr. “I was looking forward to this. It’s not often I get to enjoy such a mighty challenge. But now, it seems, the time has come for this little charade to end.”

  The assassin’s fur bristled with a perverse sense of satisfaction, his accent hanging in the air like a foul, foreign odor. “You should have known better than to run, Nalli. Running is not in direhound blood, yes? Your misjudgment shall be your undoing.”

  The posek’s words were like daggers, each one aimed at diminishing the direhound’s spirit.

  By his voice alone, she finally recognized him.

  The Black Thorn!

  The creature’s eyes never left its prey, reflecting its tasteable hunger as it prepared to end what had turned into a much-too-brief hunt. The clearing was filled with a tense, charged silence, broken only by the posek’s mocking tones and the direhound’s labored breathing. The Black Thorn’s disdain was paramount; it would savor the end of this confrontation with an almost predatory glee, finding pleasure in the final act of its pursuit.

  The direhound straightened herself with effort, fighting against the growing weakness in her limbs and the blurring effect now creeping along the edges of her vision. Her massive body, though showing signs of fatigue, visibly rippled with her strength. Her fur bristled with a fierce determination as she raised her head high and bared her claws, their sharpness gleaming ominously. Her fangs, too, were revealed in a wrinkled snarl of unyielding defiance.

  Her heart pumped the poison within her harder, threatening to overwhelm her senses, but she fought to keep her focus by shaking her head through it. Each of her breaths grew into labored gasps, but she refused to let the blurriness and the pain diminish her spirit. She was much larger prey than The Black Thorn was used to hunting, and she hoped her size alone was enough to weaken the poison's potency, at least for now, when it mattered the most. Summoning every ounce of her remaining strength, she let out a powerful howl that resonated through the clearing, a primal sound, a war-cry, filled with both challenge and her personal pride.

  “I am Nalligik-Paunngak Kutsutak-Ijik,” she announced, her voice singing with unshakable conviction despite the struggle against the poison’s effects. “Diresister of the Nightmoon Veil. I will not die this day, Black Thorn!”

  Her declaration was not just a statement of identity, but also a fierce proclamation of her resolve. The name she spoke carried the weight of her lineage and the honor of her people. Despite the deadly circumstances, her pride and the strength of her heritage shined through. The Black Thorn’s mocking demeanor faltered for briefest of moments, as if taken aback by the sheer will of the direhound before him, but his posture quickly returned to that of uncaring confidence.

  Nalligik-Paunngak Kutsutak-Ijik stood tall, her eyes flashing with defiance. Even as the poison threatened to bring her down, she would not let it claim her without a fight. Her stand against the posek was not just a battle for the survival of her people; it was a display of her indomitable spirit and her refusal to be broken.

  With a sudden burst of speed and raw determination, Nalli charged forward, her massive form dropping to all fours for a more feral, powerful run. The snow exploded beneath her paws as she surged toward The Black Thorn, her claws extended and eyes fixed on her target. The ferocity of her assault was intended to catch her opponent off guard, to overpower him with the sheer force of her desperation and rage. The poison coursing through her deeper with each passing second gave her little time for any other action.

  However, The Black Thorn remained still and composed, an almost unsettling smirk playing across his lips. It was as if he had anticipated this very move. With a speed that belied his size, he danced around her attack, effortlessly evading the direhound’s powerful charge. His movements were a blur of agility and precision, his black-stained leather vest and tail swirling around him like shadows.

  The Black Thorn’s skill was evident as he closed the distance, his lithe form weaving through the air with ease. He struck with swift blows, landing several sharp, punishing hits to her midsection. Each blow was delivered with intense force, exploiting the gaps in her defense and the weakness caused by the numbness coursing through her.

  Despite the pain of the blows landed against her, the direhound pressed on, her fury undiminished. She growled and snapped and swung her sharp claws, trying to retaliate, but assassin’s agility kept him just out of reach. The clearing echoed with the sounds of their struggle, thundering with her powerful, desperate strikes versus the posek’s swift, experienced counterattacks.

  In this fierce dance of predator on predator, it became obvious that The Black Thorn was the one who was in control, moving with a dominant, predacious grace as he toyed with his opponent. Yet, the direhound’s unyielding spirit and relentless aggression displayed her refusal to back down, even in the face of overwhelming odds.

  As the direhound struggled to stay upright, each attack from the posek seemed to further erode her energy. The Black Thorn’s movements were too precise and strategic. His every action was designed to wear her down, pushing her closer and closer to the cliffside. With her strength dwindling and the poison pulsing unhindered through her veins, Nalligik-Paunngak Kutsutak-Ijik could feel the remnants of her defenses crumbling, each movement becoming more labored and sloppy.

  Seizing his opportunity, The Black Thorn brandished a double-fanged knife from his waistline, its twin edges glinting malevolently in the moonlight. With a swift, deadly motion, he slashed the knife across her open side. The blade cut through her fur and flesh, leaving a deep, painful wound that made her gasp in agony. The cold steel against her injured side left a spray of blood on the snow beneath her.

  The direhound stumbled backwards, the disorientation from both the poison and bite of the blade causing her to slip on the ice and fall to her knees. She could barely discern the details of her surroundings as her focus faltered under the sting of her injuries.

  The Black Thorn’s breathing was calm, steady, as he took full advantage of her weakened state. He approached with a menacing stride, and despite her efforts to resist, the direhound, Nalli, was defeated. Her arms and legs shook with fatigue, her energy sapped from her body. Her growls were still deep and guttural, resonating with pain and defiance, but they were growing fainter each moment, overshadowed by her suffering.

  In a final, cruel twist, the assassin grasped her by the scruff of her neck, and with one powerful arm lifted her up effortlessly from her kneeling position. The direhound's body was tilted backwards, precariously leaned over the edge of the cliff, the abyss yawning like a dark void. The chilling wind and snow whipped around them, and the impending sensation of the sheer drop behind her only intensified her disorientation.

  Hanging over the cliffside, Nalli’s growls became more desperate, each sound more strained. The Black Thorn’s victorious gaze met her fading eyes, his satisfaction clear as he reveled in the culmination of his hunt.

  Nalli's claws attempted to dig into The Black Thorn’s arms, but her strength was rapidly slipping away. As the cliff’s edge loomed behind her, the pain in her side and the effects of the poison further combined to cloud her senses. Even as she tried to muster one final defiant howl, the darkness threatened to claim her, leaving her in a harrowing balance between survival and the endless snowy abyss below.

  The assassin’s expression betrayed his glee, “This is your end, little prey.”

  The Black Thorn, with murderous intent flashing in his glittering, green eyes, raised his dagger high, ready to deliver the finishing blow. The blade glinted ominously, its honed edge poised to end the direhound’s life. His intent was clear: he would drop her lifeless body over the cliffside after the final strike, ensuring that her demise was as dramatic as it was absolute.

  With Nalligik-Paunngak Kutsutak-Ijik hanging perilously over the edge, her vision clouded and her strength spent, she seemed on the brink of surrendering to her fate. Yet, driven by a last surge of fierce courage, she summoned every ounce of her remaining energy. If death was her fate, then she would be sure the posek was left with a token of her ferocity. As the posek’s dagger descended, she twisted with what strength she had left and sank her powerful jaws into the posek’s forearm.

  The Black Thorn’s eyes widened in shock and pain as the direhound’s teeth clamped down hard, piercing deep into his flesh. A pained hiss of anguish escaped him, and his grip weakened as he tried to shake her off. The sudden, intense pain forced him to release his hold, and he staggered back, dropping his blade to the ground as he clutched his wounded arm.

  As the posek recoiled in pain and hissed in protest, Nalli tilted backwards and plummeted down the cliffside.

  The Black Thorn recovered, his round black ears pinned back while holding his bleeding forearm. He watched from above, a bittersweet smile spreading across his black-furred face at the sight of the direhound falling; but, he slowly scowled, disappointed at being deprived the satisfaction of seeing the light fade completely from the direhound's eyes. He beamed down the steep cliffside until she faded from sight in the billowing snowstorm. He clicked his tongue and grunted; his task, though vexing in his personal languishment, was completed.

  The Black Thorn bent low to recover and stow his blade, then backed away from the cliff, disappearing in the shadowy embrace of the forest, his black tail whipping through the night.

  Beneath the precipice of the cliff, Nalli plunged downward, her vision beginning to blur and darken. The snow-covered ground, once a distant, almost abstract sight, now loomed large and menacing, rushing up to meet her with terrifying speed. The wind and snow roared in her ears with a deafening sound that equaled the pounding of her heart.

  Each second of the fall seemed to stretch into eternity, the cold air whipping her fur and heightening the chaos in her fading senses. The pain from her wounds and the poison intensified, overwhelming her remaining clarity. The encompassing white of the snow became an impending annihilation, growing ever closer.

  As the ground rushed up with unrelenting force, the direhound’s vision dimmed to a dark, swirling vortex. The last thing she saw was the cruel contrast of the snow against the encroaching shadows of her fading consciousness. The world narrowed to a single, inevitable point of impact as Nalligik-Paunngak Kutsutak-Ijik fell through the night, her defiant spirit the only hope left fighting against the encroaching darkness.

  Author's Note: This story is an ongoing serial. The final published version may differ slightly from what appears here as the story continues to evolve and the final arc is completed. Thank you for reading the start of Vine & Fang and taking the first steps into the world of Ardraelion. Once the entirety of arc 1 is uploaded, further updates will occur every week on Fridays. The first 32 chapters and first 2 arcs have already been written.

  A

  AkKalajuks – Ants

  Anniasuitik – Shaman of Medicine

  Anirnaq – The First Direhounds

  Anirniq – Soul

  Anga – Yes

  Atsinguak – Gift

  Auka – No

  I

  Ijik – Eye(s)

  Ikialuit! – Damnit or damn you, depending on phrasing.

  Ilisimaik – Craziness

  Ipatsik – Understand

  Ipvit – You

  K

  Kaijuuti – Coyote Tribe

  Kakiannangituk – Unpleasant

  Kavinguak – Much noise

  Kulgoskarrik – A lizard, known for dropping its tail when frightened with a sudden loud burst

  Kutsutak – Yellow

  Kuviasotikak – Ridiculous

  M

  Mitappuk(s) – Joke(s)

  N

  Nakummek – Thank you

  Nalligik – Love(s)

  Nokel-katantik – Honorable

  Nuni Lunikk – Moon Mother

  Nunivak – Pick berries

  Nutaqq – Child

  O

  Omajualuk – Monster

  P

  Paunngak – Berries

  Pattangaititsik – Protecting

  Piujuk – Good

  Piunngituk Silatsuak – Bad Earth

  Pijagia-keh – Different

  Pilluak – Smart, clever, skillful

  Pitsatujuk – Powerful

  Q

  Qilakpaangut – sky-eyed wanderer who flies like a startled birdling

  Qimmit – Dog (or like a dog)

  S

  IkKumanngituk – Stupid

  Siku – Ice

  Siitani – Star cycles, or revolutions around the sun

  Sungittotanuk – A symbol

  T

  Tatannamek – Amazed / How Fascinating!

  Takutsuapuk – Kindness

  Tatsika Napattulik – The Darkened Forest

  Tillia-Kattak – Vermin (More than one meaning?)

  Tikatsiak – Strong twine

  U

  Ukalik – Hare

  Ukausik – Language of Direhounds

  Ukiuq – Winter

  Ullak – Morning

  NOTABLE NAMES

  Nalligik-Paunngak Kutsutak-Ijik (Nalli) – Love(s) Berries Yellow-Eyes

  Akkitu-kumik Taggana-Tak (Umbra) – Soft-Scratch Shadow-Side

  NOTABLE PHRASES

  (Uvaguk or Uvak)-kaik sollu pitsiak. Pik sivo-ganik – (We or I) Come as kin. Do not fear.

  Sakkik sollu pitsiak! Ipvut napaq kunulik… Amarik! – Appear as kin! But stand with… enemy!

  Qamut qimmit! Pilluq! – Cowardly dogs! Move!

  Sunas pait mittsikappuk, atiq? – What is your real/true name?

  Nuti Nannguk Kunnak – Great Fault of Kunnak

  Takutsuapuk aje atsinguak – Kindness is a treasure

  "Takutsuapuk aje atsinguak."

  Vine & Fang posted for free reading. Redistribution prohibited.