A calm night wasn't a wolves best friend. There was no loud winds to rustle noise from leaves of the forest, no splashing from the heavy rain clouds and no thunderous storm cloud to echo across the valley. Nothing to cover up the sounds of seven set's of wolf paws hitting the ground as the pack raced through the forest as fast as their bodies could take them. Their noise was no doubt scaring potential pray for mile around them. But that didn't matter. The stomachs of the wolves were full and they weren't out hunting. They were simply running as far away as they could get from the purge (or the 'all-devourers' as the wolves had called taken to calling it). They knew it would come a time, if it hadn't come already, that not even nature would be spared from the all-devourers' hunger.
They stopped when they reached a clearing. They circled the pack leader who had an elevated position upon a smal stone to bask in the moonlight and looked upon the one wolf whose pitch black colour didn't match his greyish tone or the brown fur that the others of the pack wore. 'This is far as you go, interloper, as we agreed,', The grey wolf barked. Follow the path of the moonlight and you'll arrive at the the place you seek. Now give us what you promised and be gone. You may run and hunt well, like a true wolf, but I can still smell what you are. The smell disturbs all of us. If you hadn't hunted as well you did we would have killed you along ago and left your flesh to the bugs.
The pitch black wolf let out a small growl and barked 'Fine, but if you betrayal me you wouldn't live enough to feel regret. I have no problem turning you into a coat.' Neither the words of alpha-male and the interloper had any truth behind them. It was merely the customs and the way of the wolves. The wolves believed the aggressive talk helped showed the pack one's fighting spirit and strength. When he's finished speaking the pitch black wolf swiftly transformed into a black smoke which was blown away with a gust of wind to reveal a tall brown haired, blue eyed man. The man known simply as Rhys Shadow withdraw a necklace of fangs and threw it to the wolf who caught in his jaw. The necklace had certain significance to the wolves and the pack leader hoped to give it to the Prince of Wolves to raise his standing in the wolf community.
True to their words the pack left Rhys alone. They barked something and though Rhy's lost his connection to the wolves he assumed it was a rude goodbye. Soon they disappeared into the surrounding forest and Rhys was left to travel in the direction of the moon. It took an hour of walking but eventually he reached another clearing. He had seen the bright lights of the tavern before had seen the tavern itself and by the time he'd approach he found himself longing for the warmth of it's fireplace. The clothes he wore now didn't provide the heat he got from his wolf-form. As he entered he was thankful to find the place somewhat empty. The shape shifting mage had lost his sense of time whilst running with the wolves and was a bit worried he'd arrived at this place too late to claim a bed somewhere, but felt save since talking to the barmaid he was happy to learn he wasn't too late to claim a beer.
Until he realized why the gods who shaped dreams sent him here he planned to drink himself jolly and try some place to sleep. He didn't feel like spending another night as a wolf in order to get a warm night sleep.
Make love, not toast.