Not Like Humans

When the wolves howled, she did not pull her knife from its sheath. The others woke around her, scrambling from blankets and wiping their hands on their tunics as they grabbed for hatchets and hammers. These were not knights or squires; she was lucky to have her knife.

“What is it?” murmured the dark eyed boy sleepily, the last to his feet.

“Wolves,” was the answer.

The boy was hardly asleep now.

The fires had burned out; smoke was useful in driving away animals, but they did not know who could see them in the forest, who would wander down the paths of greenery and among the beasts.

There was only darkness now, and streaks of blue hued light where the moon rose like a silver disk above the treetops. Some of the younger lads huddled together, eyes wide as saucers, ink black with fear. Only the older boy seemed more stubborn than scared.

“We should keep someone on watch. Stay awake, take the night in shifts. In case the wolves come over,” Sersa said.

The eldest of the men, who had woken quickly but rubbed his eyes groggily, raised his eyebrows. “I thought your kind was fond of wolves.”

“We are. But they aren’t fond of you,” Sersa said.

After much blear-eyed arguing, and a few whacks to the head, the older boy and Sersa were voted the first watchers. In an hour they will be relieved and let to sleep.

The moon had dipped only centimeters in the sky, and the trees above them were lined with ghostly green light.

Sersa and the older boy sat facing opposite directions, and when they spoke, they had to crane their necks over their shoulders and whisper.

He spoke first, while Sersa was absent-mindedly pulling apart a fern frond.

“What did he mean, Termin, about the wolves?” he asked.

Sersa plucked off too many green veins at once and scowled as she tossed the frond aside. “What?”

He pressed against her, warm against her back, and said, “Termin said you were fond of wolves. What did he mean?”

Sersa shrugged. “I don’t know.” Lieing is no special talent, she had realized. One can wear different truths the way they can wear a new shirt. “He’s probably going soft in the head.” She strongly suspected that, were he awake to hear that, Termin would thump her until she was soft in the head.

“Do you like wolves?” the older boy asked.

Sersa had not been expecting so many questions, but she was relieved to have something to do as she gazed into the dark, half in fear, half in hope of some canine movement.

“Yes,” she said. It can’t do any harm to let him know that.

“I don’t. They’d kill you if you gave them the chance.”

Sersa pulled away from him, jerking to the side so quickly that he fell back in surprise. “They would not. They protect their territory, that’s all. If you’re stupid enough to walk into it and keep walking, you deserve to die.”

She couldn’t see him raise his eyebrows, but she knew that he did. “I just meant- they’re not like us. They’re vicious and they don’t think the same way. They’re not like humans.”

Sersa turned back to the darkness. Suddenly the prospect of staring into empty shadows for an hour in silence sounded more appealing. She muttered a short, “No, they’re not,” before hunching her shoulders and crossing her arms.

She could feel his eyes on her for only a moment before the sound of shifting earth and twigs told her that he had resumed his position and would not be speaking with her the rest of the night.