Blue Marsh


I found the tracks in the deep snow between the trees. Tracks which lead to the pavilion outside the great house, fire pit mere embers, table splintered and its contents scattered in the snow beyond the trellised walkway. What once was a study in luxury and opulence was now a study in death, innards and blood sprayed along the jacquard walls, pieces of flesh and bone and bodies littering the floor. The only thing left living was the hunting hound, which lapped at the blood as if it were mother’s milk. It growled as I approached, but I growled lower, my eyes flashing, and it slunk away, whimpering and tail between its legs.

The Clan was on the move, rending everything in its path, exacting vengeance on those who had killed their Alpha. It was my job to hunt down this Clan, Clan Blue Marsh, and decimate all but the Alpha female, whom I would take as my prize and my mate.

As a Loner, I have no fealty, no ties to any Clan, so I have become an enforcer for the Great Pack of these lands, those in the hierarchy who keep the individual Clans in check, handing down Law and Judgment upon those who defy the Pack. Grizella was told the Pack would handle her mate’s murder, that they would send one to hunt down the perpetrator, yet she alone claimed an ancient right – a right no longer in play in this modern world – to exact justice herself by whatever means necessary, making her and her Clan rogues in the Pack’s eyes.

I was supposed to be the one to hunt the murdering cur down, it was I who was supposed to exact justice and collect the bounty, yet she screwed that up for me and therefore I claim her as bounty and prize – the rest of her Clan? I claim their heads.

Even now her scent hangs like ripe plums in the icy air, all spice and dark will, the scent of one in season and full of rage.



I will have her.

I will see her Clan decimated, no one to turn to, no one to come to her defense, no one to quell the fire burning in her loins.

No one but me.



Β©2013 Spiritwind Studios


22 responses to “Blue Marsh

  1. Wow! This one has my vote, for sure. The descriptions are vivid, and you hint at the wider world this takes place in, tantalizing me to want to know more. Excellent story!

  2. Mm, that was exciting; it really got me interested in where the story was going. You didn’t explicitly say it, but I had the impression this was a werewolf story. The pack-politics you hinted at seem like a really great foundation for a much larger story – good luck with that if you ever fill it out.

  3. Pingback: Short Fiction: The Naughty Elves | Bastet and Sekhmet's Library·

  4. I spend a good bit of time hanging out in airports waiting for connecting flights. I say a “good bit” because I tend to enjoy myself. I enjoyed your writing because it reminds me of some of the writers I have read like Michael Moorcock and Robert E Howard. Well I don’t want to talk your ear off although I’d love to KEEP IN TOUCH.

  5. I love how there are so many wolf stories this week.
    Great piece; I also like how you ended it and then there is the chaos in the painting right below.

  6. So very intense. I liked the the taught, sharp writing which established the mood right away. That’s quite a complex political situation you established in a short space. Exemplary writing!


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