CHAPTER 19

NINJA

Sometimes life requires us to act without warning, preparation, or backup.

It’s like being asked to be a ninja, but without any training.

…or a cool outfit.

The wind carried the smell of fresh horse manure and the smoke from the brasier fires…both on the back of a woman’s shrieking.

Patrons of The Den froze in conversation, accusation, and Sepp dropped both men, who’d ceased struggling altogether.

The shriek was a single high-pitched note, hitting the spine like nails down a chalkboard.

THA-THUMP-THUMP!

THA-THUMP-THUMP!

Wendell’s legs jumped to attention, standing up so quickly his chair slid away and bounced off the tavern wall.

Bartleby was also on his feet in a flash, grabbing his Lute case and clutching it tightly to his chest.

Elsa moved behind Jan, who also stood, her hands gripping the arm of his tunic.

Only Silas remained seated, eye wide at the door. Mouse and Tam were already on their feet and growling from the center of their chests.

The scream tapered off to silence.

…ripping through the night a second time moments later.

“What’s wrong with you cowards?” roared Mayson from the cook fire. He waved his heavy chopping cleaver at the door, ripping the apron from around him, “A woman screams in distress and you just stand here?!”

Knocking patrons out of his way, he hobbled out the door and into the night.

The tavern filed reluctantly out after him.

Go Wendell.

Help them.

The voice was clear as any voice Wendell had heard before. Yet this was soft, warm, and the words gave him courage and strength.

Slowly the eyes around the table turned to him.

His chest tightened, his mouth running dry. Yet for a moment, he didn’t feel alone. Ithari’s voice filled him. A burning desire to do good flared…along with a flood of so many doubts, trying to douse that fire out.

I don’t even know what to do! I…was stupid and ran from my responsibilities, I…

Be the Hero, Wendell..

But…

You are not alone.

All his life he’d avoided responsibility. Tried to fit in by compromising on what he’d felt was right, striving to become someone acceptable in other people’s eyes and estimations. Living by other people’s standards and not by what he actually believed.

And it never brought him happiness.

It never brought him feelings of accomplishment or joy.

It just…hurt.

“Wendell?” Elsa whispered, “are you alright?”

Because it wasn’t who he was meant to be.

Wendell P. Dipmier was meant to be something more.

More than the local clown, more than the school punching bag, and more than his parents apologies for behaving less than how he was taught.

When he was alone in his room at night, Wendell found himself dreaming of being someone with enough talent, ability and courage to help others. To be someone who defied the odds, refusing to give up.

Someone who reached out to those who were lost,…like himself.

Even though he still couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud, he yearned for the chance to be a hero to someone.

Anyone.

What he never expected was having the Universe hear that silent prayer of his soul.

…or to answer back.

Tha-THUMP-Thump!

I’m…, he swallowed, clenching his eyes tight.

“Wendell?” Elsa whispered.

I’m sorry for blaming you, Ithari. I’m so sorry for…everything.

I forgive you.

Those three words pierced Wendell’s frame with such power and force, he stumbled back into the chair behind him and almost fell over.

“Careful there,” small hands steadying him as his attention came back to the table. Elsa pulled the chair forward for him to sit, Bartleby gripping his forearm firmly for balance.

Wendell smiled weakly. “Sorry, I’m…” but he shook his head slowly, refusing to sit.

He didn’t know what to say. So many thoughts flooded his mind…

It’s time to be honest with myself.

Yes.

To speak the truth.

Yes.

Again, the voice was so clear, he could have sworn the Ithari was standing next to him. A real individual—talking as one person speaks to another.

…and the truth is, I don’t know how to be a hero, Ithari.

There I said it.

Painful as it may be, I just don’t know how to become this hero person. I don’t know how to live a whole new life.

You will.

I will.

…right.

He’d been chosen as the hero in place of Evan Matthews.

Rolling his shoulders back, Wendell took a deep breath, his chest expanding and then letting it out slowly.

Bartleby’s grip eased as his balance firmed.

This wasn’t about being alone.

With the Ithari, Wendell was never alone.

This was about learning what to do next.

To do the right thing for the right reason…at the right time—and the one being who knew better than everyone else was also the being who had his best interests at heart.

What’s the most important thing you need me to do?

Be you.

Be…me?

You were not chosen to be something else, Wendell. You were chosen to be MORE of what you already ARE.

Bartleby stared up at him expectantly. “Maybe you should sit down.”

“No,” Wendell replied quickly.

It wasn’t the answer he was looking for.

Be me?

Taking another deep breath, he held it in longer. The air fill his chest as Wendell rolled his shoulders back again, joints popping.

Tension washed from his shoulders, upper back and neck.

Be me.

Be you.

As he expelled the air from his lungs, Wendell nodded to himself. “Someone needs help.”

****

Most of the patrons had stopped at the front of the tavern. Standing about in small circles, mugs in hand, speculating as to what could be happening on the other side of the village.

Wendell pushed through the crowd. Drinks spilled, men stumbled when jolted and drunks fell to the ground swearing profusely.

Wendell didn’t stop.

They watched with dull interest, some with mild irritation, as the teenager sprinted into the dark orchard.

A few made bets on various outcomes.

Jan and Bartleby followed in Wendell’s wake.

“What does he think he’s going to do?” the gnome squeaked. “Doesn’t he understand screaming like that means there’s something bad happening!?”

Pulling his long knife from its sheath, the lumberjack glanced down at Bartleby. “I think he does,” and he pushed after Wendell.

Huffing, the gnome gripped the lute case tightly, struggling to keep up. “The things I do to get inspired.”

Wendell darted through the trees letting his own thoughts drift from him. His objections, his assumptions.

Just be me, he told himself over and over again.

Someone’s hurt, probably scared. They need help. You don’t have to be perfect, Wendell—you have to be present and willing.

He had absolutely no idea what to expect, only that he was present and if there was something he could do to help a person in distress, he was going to do just that.

…and if he did something not-so-smart, well…that was part of the ‘just be you’ the Ithari would have to heal when it was all over.

The wind was frigid and unyielding, dry snow frosting the tree branches, tiny whirlwinds swirling along the ground. The braziers on this end of the village were running low on fuel, making it harder to see the further Wendell ran towards the forest edge, so the brilliant white of the snow helped.

Again a scream split the air.

This time, however, it softened into a loud sob, while other sounds accompanied it.

Men yelled and barked at one another. Deep voices shouting out commands, mixed with random howling in the distance.

The cottage looked no bigger than a single room dwelling, smoke billowing out of the stone chimney. As Wendell emerged from the orchard, he saw Old Mayson and two other men trying to comfort a middle-aged woman. The tavern owner had an arm around her shoulders, trying to steady her, the other hand firmly gripping her trembling fingers. The others stood alert, an axe held by one man, a spear wielded  by the other.

Wendell blinked again as he drew near.

What he thought was shadow across the woman’s face and dress, turned out to be blood. It was then Wendell noticed the carcass of the cow, crumpled up next to a wooden fence, he understood. Ribs protruding from its flesh, the cow’s neck contorted in a disturbing way, half of its head missing.

Wendell was no expert, but the wounds looked more like goat claw marks than any bite from an animal.

“T-they took her,” she whimpered, her voice shuddering. “They killed May and then snatched up my daughter!”

Mayson only gave Wendell a slight glance. “It’ll be alright, Dorota. We’ll go after her.”

The woman’s head snapped up, anger mingled with fear. “Alright?! Wolves kill my only milk cow and snatch my daughter to feed upon next, and you say it’s…” then she noticed Wendell.

Without taking so much as a breath she stood up and made a lunge towards him. Mayson grabbed her arm before the mother could strike Wendell.

“You’re the one responsible for all this,” she screamed, pain and anger fused with her words. “This is your fault!”

Focus, Wendell. She doesn’t know you, he told himself, and she doesn’t mean that. She’s lost her daughter. Of course she’s going to be mad. Sacred.

Just as Wendell opened his mouth, Jan and Bartleby burst into the clearing. The lumberjack ran up to the porch directly.

Mayson pointed behind the cottage, into the darkness of the forest. “The beasts went into the trees that way. Those trappers went after the wolves, but they…”

“They took Tamika,” the woman cut in. “Just as I came out the door to call her in, wolves snatched my little girl and ran off to feed on her!” Shaking hands gripped Jan’s tunic. “They’re going to eat my baby!!”

Wendell bolted for the forest.

“Wendell!” shouted Bartleby. “Where do you…,” but it was already too late. Wendell sprinted around the side of the cottage and vanished into the night.

The gnome looked up at the humans in disbelief. “You people really are crazy, you know that, right?”

Go, go, go, Wendell panted, dodging in and out of the trees. There’s a child in danger.

A child!

His heart pounded harder as he held his breath, trying to pick up on the distant shouting.

Jump

He could make out several voices.

Rock.

They sounded close to each other, but…

Root.

Then he heard the growling.

Wolves.

Tha-THUMP-Thump!

What do I do once I get there, Ithari? How do I…

Be you.

You’re not helping, Ithari! I need more than that. There’s a child involved! How am I supposed to…

Wendell. You are the hero.

Make choices.

I will support you in truth.

Support me in— he gasped, you and I need to have a serious conversation about definitions.

As the trees thinned, Wendell slowed. The shouting got louder, intermixed with growling and the occasional snapping of teeth.

The clearing was small.

Four wolves had taken a stance around a cluster of trees at the clearings center. Three facing outward, challenging five rugged looking men with spears, nets, and one with a bow. The fourth canine, much larger and with darker fur than the others of the pack was facing inward, its attention locked on a tiny child.

The girl couldn’t have been older than five or six years of age, her arms desperately wrapped around a small sapling. As the wolf snarled, she screamed, gripping the tree tighter, clenching her eyes shut.

Wendell’s heart sank as he watched her body shake violently in fear.

To get to the child, he would have to sprint between two of the canines, then confront what looked to be the alpha of the pack.

I’m gonna get bit, I just know it. Ohhhhh…this is gonna hurt! Wendell grit his teeth, trying to forget what it felt like to have his face ripped up by a dog when he was just a kid himself.

This COULD have been about mildly upset bunnies or irritated raccoons, but nooOOoo, it had to be things that can literally eat me!

The brush beside Wendell rustled…then exploded.

“Yahh!” he shrieked, instantly slapping his hand over his own mouth.

Mouse slid up beside him, paws skittering through patches of muddy snow. The momentum of his massive frame hit Wendell in the ribs and knocked him onto his side with a ‘WUFF!’

Strong hands yanked Wendell back to his knees.

“Wolves?” Jan asked, brushing dead leaves from Wendell’s shoulder. The gnome soon appeared and immediately dropped his lute case, sank to the ground, and let his torso fall backwards as he gasped for breath. “Rarely seen ones this big.”

Wendell nodded, “The girl is in the center. The alpha has her pinned.” He pointed, “The trappers have the attention of the other four, but I haven’t seen any of them attempt to save the child.”

“Don’t think they’re the saving type.” Jan gripped the knife in his right hand. “Is she alive?”

As if on cue, the little girl gave another shriek and sobbed louder. Her reaction was matched by the alpha. Snapping its teeth, it slowly shifted to the backside of the tree cluster, reorienting.

Wendell crawled forward to get a better view. “We need to get her out of there!”

Mouse gave a deep growl in agreement.

Bartleby tapped Wendell on the shoulder. “I think it’s time to show what you can do.”

Jan looked between them. “What you can do?” He stared at Wendell, “What can you do?”

Wendell glared at the gnome.

Bartleby glared back defiantly. “For goodness sake’s, it’s a kid!”

A faint glow appeared on the back side of the trees. Not enough light to see all the participants clearly, but enough to provide contrast between the landscape and those moving about in the clearing.

…especially the alpha, who had shifted into view.

Jan frowned and glanced at Wendell. “Hey, there’s a…,” he paused. “Wait, you’re doing that?”

Bartleby made a clicking sound with his tongue. “Cool, huh.”

One of the trappers threw his net at one of the wolves—which jumped to the side before the web landed. The failure was followed by intense barking from the other canines.

Wait a minute…

Tha-THUMP-Thump!

Mouse lowered his head slightly and let out a deep growl from his chest—nose pointing directly at the child.

Tha-THUMP-Thump!

Again the child screamed.

“We’ve got to get to her before that beast kills her!” Jan hissed, rising to his feet.

Wendell grabbed Jan’s forearm. “Wait!”

Jan tugged away. “What do you mean, wait?”

Again the alpha snarled,…then lunged, jaws open.

“Look!” Wendell gasped, pointing, “There!!”

Between the trees, exposed by the faint glow of light, the alpha snapped just above the child’s head, its teeth sinking into what looked to be the shadow of the tree itself.

“I don’t…,” Bartleby stared, eye narrowing to slits, “what are we looking at?”

With a push of his will, Wendell increased the intensity of light a hair more. The effect was perfect.

A shadowy mass whipped about wildly, pulling at the teeth of the wolf as the beast tugged. The little girl dropped her head closer to her knees as the canine yanked its head from side to side, growling ferociously.

Wendell gasped, “Are you blind? That shadow is alive!”

At the same time, a second trapper threw his net in a perfect arc. It sailed through the air, over one wolf, which pranced out of harms way, to land perfectly over the second beast, unaware of the dropping attack. The net covered the smaller female, who stumbled over her own paws, binding herself into the net even further.

Wendell bolted into the open with a single whisper. “Mouse, come!”

The ridge hound burst into motion, following Wendell’s lead.

Dashing behind the captive female wolf and the trapper, Wendell slid up to the child, and tugged at her clinging arms.

“It’s going to be okay,” he panted, “I’ve got you!”

Pulling her from the trees, Wendell wrapped his arms about the tiny body and held her tight to his chest. “Close your eyes and hold tight, sweetie,” he whispered, “I’ll get you home.” You can do this, Wendell. You’ve got this.

Mouse beside him, the canine emitted a rumbling growl.

Wendell flinched, his right arm spasming as pain ripped through his shoulder. “ARRGH!”

The growl still thrumming through his body, Mouse reared up and bit down on a piece of black cloth sticking out from between the trees and through Wendells mägoweave.

A high-pitched screech shattered the night air, rising above the sounds of combat around them. The cloth withered wildly, pulling back from the ridge hound.

Wendell turned his head in time to see four thin needle-like strands pulling back through the mägoweave…and his shoulder.

AHHHHRR!! he shuddered.

It took all his concentration not to let the quivering child drop from his grasp.

Small trails of blood seeped through the cloth—which quickly sealed over the wound.

THA-THUMP-THUMP!

THA-THUMP-THUMP!

Wendell panicked. “What IS that thing!?!”

MOVE!

With both adrenaline and the Ithari pulsing through his veins, Wendell let the fear of his situation push him forward. Tucking the child’s head against his chest he shoved off the tree and rolled forward, tucking his own head towards his good shoulder shoulder. The forward momentum carried him in an awkward roll, away from what looked to be a black scythe.

…which sliced off several branches from the tree he was leaning against.

Mouse lunged through the air and bit down on the scythe, teeth sinking deep.

Again the shadow shrieked, whipping about, looking much like an ink blot having a seizure in midair.

Go, go, GO! Wendell huffed, rolling to his feet and sprinting back to the shelter of the tees where his friends started at him in complete shock.

“That was…,” Bartleby started to say, but Wendell cut him off.

Shoving the child into Jan’s arms, Wendell barked, “Take her, now! GO!”

The lumberjack pulled the child tight to him, nodded once and vanished into the night.

THA-THUMP-THUMP!

THA-THUMP-THUMP!

THA-THUMP-THUMP!

“Mouse!” Wendell snapped aloud, then lifted Bartleby to his feet. The canine was instantly at his side, a small piece of cloth hanging from the corner of his mouth. “Take Bartleby and follow Jan! Protect that little girl! Get her back to her mother…”

Mouse let out a small whine in protest.

“Look,” Bartleby started to protest, “I’m not some idiot you can just…”

Wendell ruffled the fur behind Mouse’s ear. “You’re their only protection, boy. You want to help? This is what we do. Now GO!”

With a snort, the ridge hound turned and nudged the gnome forward.

“Now see here…”

Mouse learned forward, placing his cold nose against the gnomes and let out a low growl that could be felt through the ground.

Bartleby gulped. “Since you put it that way…”

Within moments, both vanished into the night.

Wendell turned his attention back to the fight.

This isn’t about the girl, is it.

No.

The wolves. Are they here to hurt anyone?

No.

They’re hunting that…thing.

Yes.

The creature looked familiar.

My dreams.

The robes from his dreams had more shape to them, almost hollowed out—but this thing didn’t seem to have much shape at all. Whipping about it took on various shapes—like the scythe.

Wendell reached over and poked the covered wound in his shoulder. He winced hard.

Ow! That thing cut right through the mägoweave. Which means this thing is a serious danger to me, even with you helping me.

Yes.

A soft sigh escaped his lips then. I’m not going to face slightly irritated bunnies as the hero, am I?

…no.

So much for hoping.

For several minutes, he watched the fight ensue between the wolves and the two enemies. The trappers being held at bay, while the Alpha wolf fought the…whatever the shadow thing was.

Looks like we have two problems. The shadow--whatever it is…and these trappers.

Yes.

Neither option looked fun or promising.

If the wolves aren’t here to harm anyone—I certainly don’t want them to suffer…they’re just doing what their instincts are shouting at them to do. Kill evil. Which, between you and me, I’m all for. On the other hand, I sure don’t want the deaths of these trappers on my hands.

Wendell crouched at the edge of the trees.

Maybe we can find a way to…

For several minutes he stared, slowly increasing the distant glow of the light source, creating the effect of a rising dawn to improve his views.

But the shadows remained shadows.

Where are you, darn it!

It has fled.

Wait, what? Where did it…

One of the wolves cried out, yelping.

“Got it!” barked one of the trappers. “Ethan’s down!!”

“Kill the beast!” shouted a second, “Cal’s wounded too, but I have him covered.”

The alpha had come to the rescue of the smaller, captured wolf, attacking one of the trappers. The human lay motionless upon the ground, the large wolf straddling the body. An arrow protruded from its hind quarters.

The trapper with the bow pulled another arrow from his quiver.

Gripping the small tree he was leaning against, Wendell concentrated, pouring his will into a single image.

The leather and fur protecting his body from the elements flattened against his skin. Brown and tan shifted to midnight black as his collar rolled up and over his head into a sunken and fukumen, sleeves stretching down his arms, unfolding into tekoh to cover his hands. His heavy jacket twisted, wrapping around his rib cage, forming a loose-fitting uwagi.

Wendell grinned wide under his cloth mask.

Always wanted to be a ninja.

The bowman raised the weapon to take aim.

Is the man on the ground alive?

Yes.

Ithari’s voice didn’t sound as strong in his mind and heart as she had in the tavern. Doubt began to creep into his mind. Was he doing something wrong? Was he…

Focus, Wendell.

What?

Ithari’s voice was clear and strong for a split moment.

Stay calm and focus on us.

Be, Wendell.

Do not doubt.

BE.

Wendell stepped out from behind the tree.

His heart beat faster, breath hot through his mask.

I can’t let the trappers kill these beasts, they’re just defending themselves. But I can’t let the wolves kill these men either.

Bright white light exploded at eye level between the men, positioned closest to the bowman.

“Arrrgh!” cried the bowman, stumbling backwards, his loss of balance forcing him to let go of the string. The arrow arched harmlessly into the air and through the trees.

His counterparts also threw their arms up to their faces, startled.

Move, move, move!

Wendell dashed from his cover to the backside of the tree cluster where the little girl had been trapped. Dropping to his hands and feet he vanished from view.

From his vantage point, Wendell had a perfect view. One man bleeding with a wounded arm, defended by a second trapper holding a spear. The bowman was still disorientated, swinging with his bow to hold off beasts he couldn’t see. The fourth had dropped his own spear and was now scrambling on the ground, frantically trying to find it by feel alone. The unconscious trapper was laying on his back…alone.

Wait…

Alone?

The wolves had vanished.

Wendell blinked, then bobbed his head up over the small brush.

Where the heck did…

Wendell froze.

The hot breath against his ninja hood was almost imperceivable.

…the smell was not.

I wonder if ninja’s in training wet their outfits in the face of danger?

A large muzzle nudged his shoulder.

Wendell slowly turned into the looming stare of the alpha. Giant black eyes pierced his own behind the mask, followed by a near silent wimper.

Pushing its body forward, the wolf limped to Wendell’s side and curled up between the trunks, exposing the arrow shaft.

“Uhhhhh,…hello,” Wendell whispered.

Huh. It…didn’t eat me.

Wendell slowly reached out a trembling hand, the little kid in him overwhelming his sense of safety. “Hey buddy…you don’t look so good.”

The wolf didn’t flinch at his touch, or make any sound of protest.

Its thick, dark speckled fur blended well with the darkness, lighter fur around its eyes creating almost a glowing effect around its piercing eyes. Close up, the beast looked like it would easily outweigh Wendell.

This has got to be one of the coolest…

“What the blazes was that?!!?” shouted the bowman, “Mailin?”

“Hell if I know,” replied Mailin, checking his friend. “But Cal’s bleeding out. Need to get him back to the village.”

“Varick?”

“I’m good,” Varick called back. The spearman knelt by the side of his fallen friend. “Ethan’s wounded, but alive.”

The bowman cursed under his breath. “That alpha has to be nearby. He can’t run with that shaft in him! Spread out!”

Oh crap, Wendell squirmed, they’re going to find us! He gulped, probably a bit too loud, hunching over the alpha. He knew if they moved they’d be discovered for sure, but both he and the wolf were siting right in the open, nestled up against the trees.

Hardly a good hiding spot!

Those on their feet gripped their weapons and quickly searched around trees, stabbing into the larger brush.

The bowman, a fresh arrow knocked, stepped out from behind the cluster of trees, his back now to Wendell and the wolf.

Wendell held his breath and wrapped an arm around the alpha’s fur. Don’t turn around…don’t turn around. Clenching his eyes tight he tried to think brave thoughts. Please don’t find me, please don’t find me,…I don’t want to die.

He wasn’t very successful.

The trapper turned and looked right at Wendell.

“Anything?” yelled Mailin.

“No,” the bowman hissed. “Dammit!” he finally cursed out loud, “How did that beast get away?!”

“Doesn’t matter,” snapped Mailin, “We need to get Cal back, now. We can pick up the tracks at first light, Manel.”

The bowman grunted angrily, scanning the tree-line. “I’m gonna get you, beast,” he cursed under his breath.

Propping Cal’s limp body between them, Mailin and Varick carried their friend towards the village, Ethan stumbling behind them assisted by Manel.

Within minutes, the trappers were gone.

Wendell cracked an eye open.

What just happened?

Pulling back the hood to the cold wind, he popped his head up and looked about. “Wellll THAT was a close call!” He gave the wolf a nervous grin, “But I wasn’t worried.”

The wolf let out a soft whimper.

Sinking back against the trunk, he couldn’t help but laugh. “Mahan’s Pink Panties,…he actually missed us!”

Black eyes locked onto him.

“Your buddies were smart to take off when the light flashed,” he breathed.

The wolf whimpered again, then rolled his head over to its side, licking the blood from its hind quarters.

“Ah,” Wendell wrinkled his nose at the blood, “That looks pretty bad.”

The arrow was larger than any Wendell had seen. It’s shaft was thick as his thumb, roughly cut and whittled down. “Thing looks like something you’d shoot a bear with.” He reached out to touch the end, and the wolf flinched hard, “or a small elephant.”

Leaning over, he slowly touched the wet fur surrounding the wound.

The alpha yelped.

Wendell pulled back in a jerk reaction. “Sorry! SO sorry!!”

The blood continued to seep from the wound, trailing down the canines leg. Not that Wendell knew anything about animals—but the wounded leg looked a lot more ‘relaxed’ than the others.

He made a sad face in empathy. “I’m pretty sure I’ll have to pull that out if you want me to help.”

Placing one hand on the alpha’s neck, he closed his eyes. “I just want to make sure you’re okay with me doing this. That,…you know I don’t want to hurt you.”

Reaching out with his heart, Wendell strained his senses, listening and feeling for any sign. The beasts heart beat wildly, which he could feel under his hand. But the longer his hand lingered, the slower the beat became.

It’s going to be alright, Wendell tried to assure both of them.

Making sure they were still alone, Wendell knelt by the wolf’s wound and braced himself. Placing one hand on the alpha’s hindquarters, he slowly gripped the end of the arrow with the other.

“Please don’t be barbed. Please don’t be barbed,” he started to chant, then realized his fear was incorrect. He shot the alpha a nervous glance, then started chanting, “Please don’t turn and rip my throat out, please don’t turn and rip my throat out.”

Does he understand I don’t mean him harm?

Yes.

“Alrighty then,” he whispered, “Time to take this belief and confidence on a test run.”

Wendell used his whole torso instead of the strength of his arm, and yanked the arrow free.

The alpha let out a sharp yelp, followed by a steady howl.

Blood arched away from the wound, splattering on Wendell’s outfit. It instantly beaded and rolled off the mägoweave, pooling in areas where the fabric was bunched up.

Wendell dropped the arrow by his side and placed a hand directly on the wound. Without pausing, he reached out with his other, placing it between the wolves ears and focusing his intent and desire to heal the canine, and whispered, “Päräntää.”

The visual he held in his mind was the alpha standing up and running free without pain.

The effect was instantaneous.

Wendell couldn’t breathe.

Flipping backwards, away from the wolf, his body went into convulsions, slamming the back of his head against the tree trunk as fire tore through his leg.

“GAWWW!!” he cried out, muscles tensing through his legs, back and neck so hard, he feared his bones would break.

Tears welled up, blurring his vision as he clenched his teeth, desperately trying to sip air.

It didn’t work.

Focus, Wendell.

Chocking on his own spittle, Wendell forced his arms down, gripping his wounded leg with both hands, clawing at the nasty gash in his leg.

Focus, Wendell.

Focus…on…what?

On me.

You? His vision blurred, the pain overriding his thoughts. It hurts so bad! Please help…

I am here.

Accept my help, Wendell.

How…?

Believe.

A pinpoint of light appeared in the back of his mind.

At first it looked much like the speckled flashes surrounding his field of vision, but it grew. Moment by moment, the light, shifting to a cool blue, drew closer.

The light also had a sound to it.

No, not sound so much as a vibration.

The closer it got, the less Wendell was aware of himself.

Accept my help.

Head arched, Wendell looked for the shooter around him. Through the leaves, into the shadows. He wanted to see the face of the person responsible for shooting him with an arrow in the back of the thigh.

Yet there was no person.

…or arrow.

Slowly the power of the Ithari kicked in.

Wendell’s pain lessened, allowing his muscles to relax.

A moment later, his awareness turned back in on itself, feeling his breath, then his own body, and finally he was able to unclench his jaw…his back and legs relaxing.

The alpha crawled over, nuzzling up to Wendell’s arm, flipping his hand up with a cold nose.

“I’m…alright,” he gasped, trying to adjust his position against the tree. Sweat poured down his brow. “You really were hurt there, buddy.” Taking several grateful breaths, he tossed the wolf a weak smile. “Ow.”

Pushing up to its feet, the alpha stood over the panting hero…then leaned down and licked Wendell’s leg.

“You really aren’t a threat, are you?” Wendell whispered. Scratching behind the triangular ears, he added, “Glad you’re feeling better.”

Struggling to his own feet, Wendell leaned against a tree to catch his breath. “People are gonna come looking for me.” Shifting his attention, the ninja outfit rippled over his skin, taking on the previous outfit he was wearing.

Looking down at himself, “Better make this a bit more believable.” Tears appeared along his sleeves and leg, emulating ripped cloth from claws, exposing Wendell’s skin. “Sorry, but I think I need a little of that before I make my way back.”

Reaching out, Wendell ran his hand over the hind-quarter of the wolf.

It stood still, watching intently.

Scooping up the caked blood, he smeared it along his exposed arm and leg. For added effect, Wendell put some bloody hand prints on his neck as well.

“That should get me some alone time.” Content with his outfit, he turned to the alpha. “You better get out of here and join your…”

The wolf was already gone.

That’s…kinda creepy, moving silent like that.

He grinned to himself, though.

Wendell had taken the initiative and saved someone with the sole help of the Ithari.

And it felt really good.

Puffing his chest out, he gave the forest and shadows a defiant shout. “What else ya got!?!”

“A shovel,” replied the forest.

Which it applied forcefully to the back of Wendell’s head.