The forest wavered in the flickering torchlight. Humans walked through them carrying fire and the trees were afraid.
Hidden among the trees, eyes watched the humans, and prepared to change the events that were-supposed-to-be. From the forest cover wolves emerged, carrying child-sized non-humans.
Humans called them Demons, they called themselves Wolfriders, and thought they were alone of their race on this world that was not yet named Abode.
Chief of the Wolfriders was a flaxen-haired youth called Cutter. He was the eleventh Chief to lead them, and he would one day be accounted the greatest, but not yet.
Eyes even the preternaturally aware Wolfriders couldn't see watched them from her hiding place, as she waited, and prepared herself to intervene.
She had already decided the form she would take.
Like her mother, the watcher had the ability to alter her form to suit her needs, and though she could appear as fully elven as the Wolfriders, she chose not to.
She carried two legacies in her blood, and she would honor both of them. That, and it felt plain weird without the extra digit on each hand.
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