Gray Wolf's Journey - Writers Forum

semtecks · 11-19-2005, 04:47 PM

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This is a very small part of the book I'm writing -- I've written thirty thousand words so far, another ten and it'll be my first official novel whoo-hoo. It involves two characters, best friends divided and made to fight against each other with a slight twist on location.This is part of Gray Wolf's story.

He stood up and gained his bearings. A sudden fear stabbed him. He froze and became completely alert. There was a slight breeze that whispered wordlessly through the trees. The stream trickled eastward. A crow cawed from the treetops. But under all that was something else. Grey Wolf listened, and looked for the thing that made him uneasy. He felt watched, hunted.

He drew his bow and knocked an arrow.

The feeling subsided slowly as if some dark creature were turning away and fading back into the shadows.

Grey Wolf stood with his shoulders slumped, the bow and arrow hanging loosely in his hands. He was a thirteen year old boy alone in the woods. After a while he turned and moved eastwards, towards the mountains.

***

Grey Wolf stopped for the night when the sun made its slow descent over the western horizon. He set a small fire and gathered enough wood to last him the night, then he settled down beside it, listening to the soft crackle of burning twigs as the grey fog of silence crept up on him.

Staring into the flames he thought of many things. He thought about his old friend Frost, wondered if he’d survived, if the insect people Eagle talked about had spared him. He thought about the vicious Firans, one of the five tribes, he now knew they were the ones behind the burning of the village. He also thought about the Tolem who had turned from hunting and now embraced the Sheppard life in the new west fields. He couldn’t suppress a smile when he thought about Jangles, telling the children stories in the firelight. The way his brown-grey face was full of shadows and how it made scary stories that little more scary. He supposed he wouldn’t listen to those stories when he came back a man . . . If he came back.

The thought made a shiver run up his spine. And when a branch snapped in the forest he almost screamed out. Grey Wolf was on his feet in seconds, his arrow held and loaded.

'Who’s there?' His voice cracked and broke. 'I’m warning you, you better come out now.'

That feeling of being watched came back, stronger. Like eyes crawling all over his body, drinking the site of him as an appetizer to the main meal.

The forest was silent and dark. The fire danced and created a thousand shadows, contorting them like puppets, making them twitch and jerk. Grey Wolf’s eyes moved from one shadow to the next till his head span, a low whimpering sound was coming from his throat.

A growl rose from the trees to his right. He turned in that direction and aimed. He thought he saw a shadow detach itself from the trees and slink off. The presence withdrew and left only the crackle of flames.

Grey Wolf set down his bow and threw more wood on the fire. He didn’t sleep very well that night. His dreams were haunted by the sounds of a lonely wolf, howling and howling in the darkness. A song of hunger, hate, and despair.

**

The mountains loomed overhead through the trees like green-grey sentinels before the backdrop of the sky. Grey Wolf ate what little he could -- a few mushrooms found growing in the shadow of a fallen tree, the leaves of a groak bush, the blue berries of a south tree -- even that couldn’t fulfil his appetite. His belly sang a constant song of hunger. Tears ran freely down his cheeks now, unbidden.

The watcher came often. Grey Wolf had seen its shadow, half glimpsed, through the trees. He kept his bow handy but felt no need to use it. For all he knew it could be the spirit of Ki, guiding him.

It started to rain at mid-day. Slowly at first. And then lightening etched Ki’s will across the sky followed by the drum beat of Ya. Grey Wolf found shelter under a tree with a wide set of leafy branches. He waited till the storm died down to misty drizzle and walked on. He stopped when he came to a small puddle and dropped to his knees.

He started as a pale, mad eyed man stared up at him. And then laughed as he realized it was his own reflection. The water left a fine gritty residue between his teeth, but he drank on, regardless.

'Blood brother?'

Gray Wolf hopped to his feet, drew his knife. He saw a tall, brown skinned boy with thick, frizzy hair leaning against a tree ten feet away.

Grey Wolf said: 'Frost -- Frost, is that you?'

Now Frost turned in Flint’s direction. His eyes were white, pupiless, a ragged red grin ran across his throat. 'Look what they done to me, brother. The insect people cut my throat.'

'They killed you?'

'Ki sent me. Ki sent me to show you what they did.' Frost walked forward blindly with his arms outstretched. The ragged cut in his throat opened and closed while he talked. 'I’m your vision, Grey Wolf. Me.'

Grey Wolf took a step back every time Frost stepped forward. 'I’m sorry, frost. I didn’t know.'

'You gotta stop ‘em for me. You’ve got to do Ki’s will . . . Or are you too much of a chicken puff?'

Grey Wolf shook his head so fast his yellow hair, now turned brown with crusted mud and dirt flew about his face. 'I’m not a chicken puff. I’m not!'

Frost smiled, blood ran out of his mouth and over his lips. 'Good.' He stepped forward. 'There’s always room for one more soul.' Another step forward, now his eyes filled with blood and red tears ran down his cheeks leaving long red contrails. 'You could just come with me now.'

Grey Wolf backed up against a tree and covered his eyes with his hands. 'Leave me alone, Frost. Just leave me alone.'

But he was alone he now saw. Frost had gone. Grey Wolf was just a dirty boy talking to himself in the drizzle. His vision was done.

'I’m a man,' he whispered. 'A man.'

A low growl made him turn in time to see the watcher finally emerge from a cluster of bushes. The wolf’s eyes were not hateful as he’d once seen in nightmares; but hungry and scared. Its coat was a dirty grey and white, falling away in places to reveal sagging pink flesh.

A great pity rose up in Grey Wolf‘s heart and he called out: ‘Ki guide you.'

The wolf’s ears pricked up and it skittered out of the bushes, limping with one leg raised. It opened its jaws to reveal row upon row of razor sharp spittle encrusted fangs and leapt.

Grey Wolf remembered the knife in his hand. As the wolf’s jaws yawned for his exposed throat Grey Wolf lifted his right hand and jammed the knife’s blade down into the space between its head and spine. It collapsed instantly, its pain ended.

'What made you attack a Tolem when you’re so weak?' Grey Wolf asked the wolf’s corpse.

Something nipped at his ankle and he jumped aside, cursing. He turned to see a hole at the base of the tree he’d been standing at. A tiny wolf puppy looked at Grey Wolf curiously with its head cocked to one side. Another appeared beside it and quickly ran to where its mother lay and began to whimper.

There was a rustling off in the woods and something darted between a cluster of trees and withdrew. Grey Wolf had his bow ready and aimed. Looks like the wolf wasn't the watcher, he thought. He lowered his bow, mumbling, 'Ki . . .'

***

Chris Miller · 11-19-2005, 09:41 PM

Can't detemine the genre from your excerpts here. Are they congiuous, or are they from three different parts? Seems like could be native american indian lore or fantasy.

Be interested in seeing the outline, or the query pitch.

Seems pretty cleanly written, only saw a couple things.

span = spun
knocked = nocked (Although I guess he could have knocked the arrow too.)

Hodge · 11-19-2005, 10:40 PM

Ouch. In the future could you use normal sized or larger font? Strains my poor, delicate eyes.

Not much to report in the way of errors or reading problems, actually. It looks like you've already polished this up pretty well. You were a little inconsistant with the words "grey" and "gray," though. Either one is correct, but not both. You have to pick one, although if you're like me you probably do it on accident...

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He stood up and gained his bearings. A sudden fear stabbed him. He froze and became completely alert. There was a slight breeze that whispered wordlessly through the trees. The stream trickled eastward. A crow cawed from the treetops. But under all that was something else. Grey Wolf listened, and looked for the thing that made him uneasy. He felt watched, hunted.

First paragraph. It doesn't flow as it should—use some compound sentences, mix it up a little. To me, this sounds like a single drum being beaten at a slow and steady rate.

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He also thought about the Tolem who had turned from hunting and now embraced the Sheppard life in the new west fields.

Shepherd? Or is it capitalized because it's a tribe or group of people?

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His belly sang a constant song of hunger.

Oh, that is one sexy line!

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And then lightening etched Ki’s will across the sky followed by the drum beat of Ya

Lightning.

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He waited till the storm died down to misty drizzle and walked on.

Until. "Till" is what people say, but in writing it means something different (i.e. "to till the soil"). It might actually be a dialectical thing.

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He stopped when he came to a small puddle and dropped to his knees.

This makes it sound like he only stopped when he dropped to his knees, not when he came to the puddle. Reword it.

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He started as a pale, mad eyed man stared up at him.

Started what? Or did you mean startled?

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Something nipped at his ankle and he jumped aside, cursing. He turned to see a hole at the base of the tree he’d been standing at. A tiny wolf puppy looked at Grey Wolf curiously with its head cocked to one side. Another appeared beside it and quickly ran to where its mother lay and began to whimper.

Don't let PETA see this... I will not forgive you if these wolf pups die or are just left alone.

Good story, I liked it a lot, actually. I'd love to see the novel—Native American tales are great, and this one definitely sounds interesting.

ThatSmokingGuy · 11-20-2005, 12:14 AM

Dude, that was cool. You have a nice affinity with your characters and for some reason I was seeing this story in my head as an animated film. I kinda want to know more about the burnt village though, it felt like you just put that in as a minor detail when it's probably pretty important. Was it Grey Wolf's village? I guess that this is in an earlier chapter tho.

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His dreams were haunted by the sounds of a lonely wolf, howling and howling in the darkness. A song of hunger, hate, and despair.

This is a cool image.

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Now Frost turned in Flint’s direction

Did I miss something? Who is Flint? The village?

The wolf pups were cute, I hope Grey Wolf takes care of them.

You pack a lot of info in your writing and at 40,000 words I bet you can get a really complex tale. I can already see five or six branches you could take with it. I really dig the Indian dream quest theme.

gohn67 · 11-20-2005, 12:46 AM

Hey Semtecks,
Not a big fan of fantasy stories, but I thought it was well written with your very fast pace style you use in your short stories, but you seem to have slowed it down a bit for the novel. Some cool descriptions like the "white pupiless eyes". I also was very intrigued by the insect people. That really interested me because it made me wonder if they were really insects or were they humans also.

semtecks · 11-20-2005, 12:58 PM

Thanks for the replies, guys.

chris,

When I started out my idea was pretty vague, but its formed as I go along. I guess you could say it's fantasy, but I have no orcs, hobbits, elves, dwarves or anything like that. It's based a couple hundred years in the future -- lots of backstory i won't go into. The two dividing forces are the Wild men and the Empirians. Wild Men being tribal, hunter gatherer types (based on various tribes: Maoris, Zulus, Pics, Appachee, Cherokee e.t.c. The Empirians are sort of like the British Empire at the time of colonialisation of America, Australia, Afric e.t.c.

smoking guy,

The village . . . the problem with fantasy fiction is that everyone falls into the deadly clishe pitt off the burning village. Anyway, that's in the first chapter -- the backstory is that the tribes have too attack villages and take children in order to induct more people into their tribes. It's the only way they can fight in great number in a short amount of time. That's how Flint becomes a Tolem called Gray Wolf while his blood brother escapes to an Empirian Fort to suffer a simialr fate.

Gohn,

Hello gohn. I'm glad you read it. I like fantasy, but only have a few fantasy authors I can bare to read. I' trying to be original in that there is no magic or anything of that sort. There is a "Wizard" but he's basically a guy who's been passed down technological magic. His only "power" is the knowledge to make machines work. There's a cool scene in the second part where he designs armourded cars to ram into the Imperial fort's gates.

The book's in four parts. First part, the boys jpourney together; second and third, their journey away from each other to higher status in their seperate sides; four, the final part that sees them meet as enemies.

Hodge,

Haha. sorry about the font thing, I have to paste from word because the site editor hate office for some reason, and this is what happens. Thanks for pointing out the spelling and grammar mistakes. I love tribal folklore too, I've been pretty interested in it every since I found It my great grandmother was an Arawak Indian two years ago, this is the first story I've written on the subject and I've taken some major liberties by squashing a lot of different tribes tohether but I've enjoyed writing it. Don't worry about the wolf cubs, they become integral to the story later on.

semtecks · 11-20-2005, 01:00 PM

Oops, sorry Maria. I almost missed you there. thanks for reading it even though it's not normally your thing. And thanks for the scroll tip.

valeca · 11-20-2005, 01:02 PM

I've only a few minutes, but I had to ask: Have you read the People of the ______ series by W. Micheal Gear and Kathleen O'Neal Gear? I see a lot of similarities between your story and their novels. If you haven't, you might want to check them out...I think you might enjoy the books.

Definitely try to mix in some compound sentences, as hodge said earlier, especially in the beginning. Everything else has been said already, so I'll leave it with this one last thing--I get the impression your style is to write with a very fast pace.

semtecks · 11-20-2005, 01:12 PM

People of the What? Seriousley, I've never heard of it. Please don't tell me it's too simialr to something somebody else wrote, I'm sooo close to finishing it.

valeca · 11-20-2005, 05:35 PM

Oh, I didn't mean it in a bad way. Only that if this is something you've enjoyed writing then you may enjoy reading something along the same lines. The similarites come with the wolf, the village being destroyed, and other tribes being a threat, being visited by spirits, and the boy traveling to survive. All are common themes found in this sort of thing.

The books I mentioned are a set of novels called The First North Americans Series. They all have titles like People of the _____ (Wolf, Fire, Earth, River, etc.) I believe there are 14 books in the series thus far. Selorian thinks this review from the second book sums the series up nicely, and I have to agree.

"Written by a husband and wife who are working archaeologists specializing in native American history, this full-bodied fantasy saga steeped in native American lore, culture, and mysticism...The narrative is finely detailed, and though there are many characters...readers will fell their tragedies and triumphs."

-Booklist on People of the Fire

You should, of course, finish your story. I think it was Daniela (or Pawn) that said, "Everything has been written, but none of it has been written by you. You'll give it a style and flavour distinctly your own.

semtecks · 11-20-2005, 06:38 PM

I went on to a book site and checked the titles out. They look pretty interesting and it's a large series. There's also a set of Egyptian themed books called Children of Babylon, or something along those lines.

I'll definately check them out because you've got me interested. And I'm happy to say I'm safe on the plagerism front (hehe). The five tribes in my book aren't Native Americans per se. They're the descendants of people who embraced a tribal life. And the book is split between them and the colonials.

People of . . . will proably be a lot of help for me. I like to research but I can't stand dry historical text. A piece of fiction based on fact could maybe help me inject some life into my story.

Wyndstar · 11-21-2005, 11:22 AM

Hey semtecks

I have to agree with most of the others; this is very cleanly written with few errors. You relate well to you chars, and manage easily to bring them to credible life. My only thing here is that as I read, I'm expecting one particular frame of time, but as I continue, I get bits and pieces that allude to otherwise, and I find that a bit distracting. I have to keep remembering that this is an excerpt with a lot of backstory I don't have access to. Otherwise, its thus far nicely done.

semtecks · 11-21-2005, 03:21 PM

Thanks for the comments, Wyndstar. I hope you don't mind, I named one of the characters after you. For no other reason than the name sounded good, authentic, and it fitted the particular character well. I hope you don't mind -- if you have any objections I'll change it asap.

I hope this doesn't mean lawsuits and libels if I ever sell the book though. lol

Wyndstar · 11-21-2005, 03:47 PM

After the liberties I've taken with you, Chris, gohn and the others--it would seem small of me to object on that small point, semtecks. So, use away. Besides, its a name, and I don't believe in copywriting names anyway.

semtecks · 11-21-2005, 03:49 PM

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After the liberties I've taken with you, Chris, gohn and the others--it would seem small of me to object on that small point, semtecks.

Haha. That is true.

Don't worry I won't make you look bad. You'll be the toughest female character in the whole book.