Wolf Boy bounded through the mouth of the cave with desperate urgency, dropping to all fours and disappearing into the darkness before either man could stop him.
"By a troglodyte's arse crack, wait—" Dirk called after him, but the boy was already gone, faster than a dwarf spotting free ale.
Felix placed a cautioning hand on Dirk's shoulder. "Perhaps we should approach with care, for who knows what awaits us in there."
Dirk unhooked his flail, the weapon's spiked head swinging ominously at his side. "Right. Could be anything in there, giant hairy spiders, snakes, bears..."
They approached the cave entrance slowly, eyes adjusting to the diminishing light. The opening was not very tall; both men had to stoop over to enter. A peculiar smell wafted from within, a mixture of wet fur, earth, and something more metallic that neither man wanted to name. Water dripped somewhere in the darkness, each drop echoing with hollow persistence against stone, marking time like a grim heartbeat.
"This can't be good," Dirk muttered as he pressed deeper into the darkness.
The tunnel widened after several paces, opening into a spacious chamber, the ceiling still too low for either man to straighten up. What little light filtered in from the entrance revealed a scene that stopped both men cold as their eyes adjusted.
Wolf Boy crouched in the center of the den, trembling as he looked between the still forms of one adult wolf and three smaller cubs. Their gray and tawny fur was matted with dark blood, their bodies now limp in death. Around them, the signs of a desperate struggle were evident; dark blood splattered the stone walls, and broken arrows protruded from the adult.
"Pack," Wolf Boy whimpered, nudging the largest of wolves with his nose. "Mama."
Felix's face fell as understanding dawned. "They were attacked, struck with blade and arrow. His family's gone, this tale has ended in sorrow."
"His family?" Dirk's voice was unusually quiet. "But they're..."
"Wolves you see, not fair mother to offer you cheer," Felix finished sadly. "No favors to grant, just silence of the dead to hear."
"Yeah."
Wolf Boy circled the bodies, whining and pawing at them as if trying to wake them. His human features contorted with a grief that transcended species, tears streaming down his dirt-smudged face.
"Buggering goblins must have killed them all," Dirk said, taking in the smaller arrows and the smaller humanoid footprints in the dirt. "They got the mother and found the cubs easy pickings. Wolf Boy must have fled, and they hunted him down. We just happened to come along and help him."
Wolf Boy buried his face in the bloodied fur of the largest wolf. The coppery tang of dried blood mingled with the musky scent of wolf, creating a sickening perfume of death. His small body convulsed with grief as he released a mournful howl that echoed through the cave, a sound that was neither fully human nor fully animal, bouncing off the stone walls until it seemed to come from everywhere at once, making the hairs on Dirk's neck stand up straighter than a paladin at a virtue contest.
Felix watched the display with growing understanding, his clever mind piecing together the puzzle before them. He tugged at his mustache thoughtfully, eyes widening.
"This child of man was raised by beasts so wild, no human hand has guided this poor child," the bard murmured to Dirk. "No wonder he speaks little and acts this way; these wolves were his teachers day by day."
Dirk's brow furrowed as he considered this revelation. "You don't mean some babe got abandoned in the woods and wolves adopted him, do you? He is not purely human. Look at that tail and his ears. Bah, a wizard's experiment if you ask me."
The half-wolf child continued to mourn, alternating between pitiful human sobs and lupine whimpers as he moved from one fallen pack member to another, touching each one with trembling fingers.
The bard nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving the grieving wolf-child. "Magic's hand is clear in this strange blend we find, of fur and of man, where the two are entwined. Some wizard's work, some spell gone wrong, or perhaps exactly as planned all along."
Dirk crouched down, studying the boy as he respectfully patted a dead cub's head. "Makes sense. No natural way for a human and a wolf to breed. Had to be some damned mage experimenting with life. Probably thought it'd be amusing to see what happened."
"Or seeking guardians with heightened senses keen, creating perfect scouts that won't be seen," Felix added, smoothing his mustache thoughtfully. "The question now remains what should be done, with this poor orphan child, this wizard's son."
Wolf Boy seemed oblivious to their theorizing, lost in his mourning as he curled up beside the mother wolf's body, small fingers clutching at her fur as if still seeking protection from the only family he had ever known.
***
Dirk shifted uncomfortably, his face flushing as he watched Wolf Boy's grief. His fantasy of a grateful, beautiful woman waiting to reward them now felt cruel, given the reality before them.
Felix caught the embarrassment on his cousin's face and couldn't resist. "No wolf-maiden waits with gratitude to share, just orphaned grief and sorrow hanging in the air."
"Oh, eat kobold dung," Dirk muttered, though there was no real heat behind his words, his indignation deflating faster than a punctured waterskin. He scratched at his stubbled chin, memories of his own childhood loss surfacing unbidden. "Poor little mutt. Lost his family just like we did."
Felix raised an eyebrow, surprised by the sudden change in his cousin's demeanor.
"Don't look at me like that," the warrior grumbled. "I'm not heartless arse all of the time. Just because I don't want to play nursemaid doesn't mean I can't feel for the little mongrel."
Wolf Boy's grieving suddenly shifted. He sprang to his feet, eyes blazing with a feral intensity that made both men take an instinctive step back. His ears had perked up, and his nose twitched, testing the air with rapid sniffs that grew increasingly agitated. The low rumble building in his chest vibrated through the cave like distant thunder. From beneath his ragged clothing, he produced the goblin knife he'd secretly taken, its crude blade scraping against its makeshift sheath with a metallic hiss before glinting in the dim light.
"Gobs!" the canine lad snarled, the word clear despite his limited vocabulary. Growling, he slashed the air with the knife, mimicking a killing blow. "Kill!"
The raw emotion in those few words needed no translation. The boy's intent was unmistakable; he wanted blood for blood.
"Well, witch's warts," Dirk said softly with his own wicked smile forming. "Seems the pup's got a vicious streak in him."
However, Dirk eyed the knife in Wolf Boy's small hand with growing concern. The blade looked massive compared to the child's tiny fingers, its jagged edge promising blood, whether goblin or accidental self-infliction, remained to be seen.
"I question the wisdom of letting a boy run around with a sharp weapon," Dirk said, hands on his knees as he looked down at the canine lad. "Might hurt himself."
Either understanding what was said or sensing the gist, Wolf Boy backed away, clutching the knife possessively to his chest. His lips curled back, baring his teeth as he growled a warning.
Felix shook his head, his ponytail swishing back and forth. "Perhaps our judgment's flawed on what his age might be. Though small in stature, six years old we see."
"What are you blathering about?" Dirk asked, still focused on the knife.
"If he is half wolf as I suspect, then years for him pass differently, I'd expect. One human year to seven canines' the rule, which means this lad's no ordinary fool." Felix stroked his beard thoughtfully. "If we split the difference for his hybrid state, three or four to one would be the rate."
The bigger man paused, studying Wolf Boy with new eyes. The boy's muscles were developed far beyond what any normal six-year-old possessed, and there was a calculating intelligence behind his feral gaze.
"So, you're saying he's what, eighteen, twenty in half-wolf years?" Dirk scratched his head, the leather of his helmet creaking against his fingernails. "Ogre spit, that actually makes sense, I guess." His voice echoed softly in the chamber, mixing with the soft whines Wolf Boy made as he continued to grip the knife.
Wolf Boy watched their exchange with alert eyes, the knife still gripped firmly in his hand. Though he couldn't understand their words, he seemed to sense they were discussing him, his head tilting slightly as he evaluated them.
Felix's eyes twinkled with mischief as he smoothed his mustache with his thumb and forefinger. "If eighteen or twenty is his physical age, then you and he share the same mental stage."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Dirk demanded, though the flush creeping up his neck betrayed his understanding, spreading across his face like wildfire in a drought-stricken forest. He was not a dullard, but he was rather uncouth and not known for being the most mature in social settings.
"Just noting similarities between you two, it's true. Both quick to anger, both impulsive too."
Straightening, Dirk opened his mouth to argue, but was stopped short by knocking his head against the low ceiling. Wincing, he closed it again as the half-wolf child growled at a phantom noise, knife still clutched tight. The parallel was uncomfortably accurate.
"Fine," Dirk conceded, pushing his leather helmet back in place once more. "Maybe we're both a bit... reactive."
He knelt down to Wolf Boy's level, careful to maintain a respectable distance. "Look, pup. Those gobbers that killed your family? We'll help you get payback. You, me, and the rhyming fool here."
Felix nodded solemnly. "Justice for your pack is only fair. We'll hunt those goblins to their very lair."
***
The crunch of twigs and rustle of leaves outside the cave made all three freeze as they approached the exit. Wolf Boy's nostrils flared, his hackles rising as he dropped to all fours and moved forward a few more steps. A low warning growl bubbled from his throat, barely audible but carrying the unmistakable scent of fear sweat with it. Dirk's hand went to his flail, the metal links jingling softly as he unhooked it, while Felix crouched sideways against the cave wall, peering cautiously out into the clearing.
"By a dwarf's hairy balls," Dirk whispered, counting the shapes moving out of the forest shadows, his hopes of an easy escape crumbling faster than a gnome's cookie under a hill giant's boot. At least a dozen goblins had surrounded the cave mouth, their crude weapons glinting in the sunlight.
The goblins' rear ranks parted, revealing their even uglier leader astride a snarling mountain lion. The beast's muscles rippled beneath its tawny coat as it padded forward, its rope-like tail twitching back and forth. Its hot, fetid breath clouded in the cool air, carrying the rancid stench of half-eaten carrion. The low rumble from its chest vibrated through the ground beneath their feet. The goblin chief, larger than the other warriors on foot, sat proudly atop his fierce mount, wielding a broad-bladed sword that would have been impressive even in human hands.
Wolf Boy's growl deepened at the sight of the mountain lion. His small frame trembled with rage as he recognized the creatures responsible for his family's slaughter.
"Well," Dirk said, adjusting his grip on his flail, "looks like our hunting skills are excellent. Already found the buggers we were looking for." He glanced at Felix.
The goblin chief barked orders in his guttural tongue, and his pointy-eared warriors tightened their circle around the cave entrance. The mountain lion's yellow eyes fixed on the cave's occupants, its tail lashing back and forth as it awaited its master's command.
"Looks like we've stumbled into a typical cat and dog squabble," Dirk muttered, eyeing the mountain lion and then down at the canine lad. "Only this time, the cat's the size of a horse and the dog's a half-pint human with a knife."
Wolf Boy snarled, his small chest heaving with each breath. The goblin knife gripped in his tiny hand, the point resting on the hard-packed earth. His eyes never left the mountain lion. He was crouched in a three-legged fighting stance, his bare feet digging into the dirt, ready to spring forward. The fine tawny hair on his arms and neck stood on end, and his tail bristled behind him.
"Fight," Wolf Boy growled, the clearest word they'd heard from him yet. "Kill."
Felix's were tapping his whip's handle, assessing their chances. "This situation seems quite dire, with no escape in sight. We're outnumbered and they'll not let us leave without a fight."
Dirk scanned the clearing, counting seven goblins plus the chief. The mountain lion alone would be a deadly opponent, but the goblin warriors had them surrounded completely. They would have a hard time fighting in the cave, constrained by the low ceiling.
"Orc snot and goblin piss," Dirk hissed, sparing a quick glance down at Wolf Boy, who crouched between them. "Nice work, boy. You led us straight into a trap."
Felix shook his head, drawing his rapier. He had no room to use the whip in close quarters. "We chose to follow where he led; the choice was ours, so use your head. The boy just sought his family's den, not knowing goblins waited then."
Dirk and Felix exchanged a grim look. They were trapped, outnumbered, with a feral child, and could not stay put.
"Any clever rhymes about how to fight a small army?" Dirk asked, flexing his grip on his flail's handle, knuckles cracking with the increased tension.
"My words won't deceive this horde to reach the glade. I could use an illusion spell to make them afraid."
Neither man spoke their foe's guttural tongue, eliminating any chance of negotiation. The goblin chief barked another command, and his warriors inched closer, their weapons raised.
The mountain lion's muscles tensed, ready to pounce.
Dirk felt resigned to their predicament and declared, "Well, we can't fight in here bent over."