Status: finished!
The Red Hound
Chapter 3
I was running. I was as free as the wind—in fact, I might have been the wind—and I was a marvellous creature, as red as my namesake with a sleek and hulking body of pure and unadulterated muscle. I glided along, my paws barely even touching the ground before I was up again, stirring about autumn leaves in my wake and not making a sound but for the rush of air behind me. I was perfection; I was the god of this world and the next false and corrupted world which was so unlike the haven which I whisked through now. I did not like to think about the world that I had one paw dipped in, for it was a place of great evil, but I could not escape it for the ghosts of beings often appeared from that world to the one in which I truly resided, which was a place of serene and untempered beauty. And such a ghost appeared before me then, halting my godly run. It was nothing but a mangy and pathetic mutt, cowering under the great and tall trees with its tail between its legs. It was then that I appeared to him, one quarter in his world and three quarters in mine as was natural for me, regretfully. I had been cursed years ago, forced into dealing with the creatures who came close to invading the world from which I hailed.
“You,” I growled, circling around him, hackles raised, “are not where you are supposed to be. One never knows one’s place, even though others know yours as well as you know theirs, and therefore it is up to me to tell you where you should be. Your place is not with the gods of the next world you approach, as you are undoubtedly unfit for it. Instead, you shall exist in the world behind you where you stand, so I command you to turn where you quail to behind you where you rightly should be.”
It was then that I saw a flicker of truth within him, the small flame of the human from which he had transformed, standing not with fear, but with an analytical curiosity. He was inexperienced and knew nothing of human existence, because one cannot learn of such things properly unless one is not human. This ignorance would soon change, given his current form, and looking once again into the eyes of his mongrel body, I felt a sort of sympathy, as I had been in a similar position when I had been cursed years ago. I relaxed my hackles, calmed my anger, and looked at him with great seriousness. This man-mutt could be my salvation.
If I passed my responsibilities onto this being, I could lift my curse and be free of my current limitations, lifting my paw from the pond of the corrupted world in which I half stood. He would become the guardian of the first thing he comes to love, the same as I have with my sanctuary of a world. It was, perhaps, a cruel thing to do, but I was not above cruelty, and desperation to be rid of this once inexorable anathema brought me to my next actions.
Though I technically existed in the other world, I could only step one paw within it so I had to use other means to reach his brow and pass on my curse. I stretched my neck towards him and over the worldly barrier, and brushed my nose against his forehead, whispering the same words whispered to me on the day of my vilification. A burden instantly lifted from my shoulders, and I felt the bonds that I had with the depraved plane shrink back and slowly begin to disappear. With a deep sigh, I felt myself being pulled from that world and into my own, though I could not just leave him as he was—I am not a monster. The least I could do was issue a warning.
“Red Hound,” I said, addressing him as my previous name, “life is chasing you at your heels instead of being gripped in your maw, and your spirit and your heart are in your head and not where they rightly should be. Now, though: when the snow falls, your prints will be erased, when the moon rises, your howls will be forgotten, and when you speak no one will listen. Great sorrow is hunting you down, and now you have the tooth and claw to defend yourself against it.”
“If I am the Red Hound,” he asked me, “then what are you?”
“I am the rising moon,” I answered joyfully as I was pulled away from that world and into the beautiful world of which I so adored. And finally my paws left the ground, my body slowly evaporating away as I rose higher and higher into the night sky, finally released from my material form, reaching up with my invisible fingers until they wrapped around the moon and I could see my world from the vantage point of which I fell in love with it from.
“You,” I growled, circling around him, hackles raised, “are not where you are supposed to be. One never knows one’s place, even though others know yours as well as you know theirs, and therefore it is up to me to tell you where you should be. Your place is not with the gods of the next world you approach, as you are undoubtedly unfit for it. Instead, you shall exist in the world behind you where you stand, so I command you to turn where you quail to behind you where you rightly should be.”
It was then that I saw a flicker of truth within him, the small flame of the human from which he had transformed, standing not with fear, but with an analytical curiosity. He was inexperienced and knew nothing of human existence, because one cannot learn of such things properly unless one is not human. This ignorance would soon change, given his current form, and looking once again into the eyes of his mongrel body, I felt a sort of sympathy, as I had been in a similar position when I had been cursed years ago. I relaxed my hackles, calmed my anger, and looked at him with great seriousness. This man-mutt could be my salvation.
If I passed my responsibilities onto this being, I could lift my curse and be free of my current limitations, lifting my paw from the pond of the corrupted world in which I half stood. He would become the guardian of the first thing he comes to love, the same as I have with my sanctuary of a world. It was, perhaps, a cruel thing to do, but I was not above cruelty, and desperation to be rid of this once inexorable anathema brought me to my next actions.
Though I technically existed in the other world, I could only step one paw within it so I had to use other means to reach his brow and pass on my curse. I stretched my neck towards him and over the worldly barrier, and brushed my nose against his forehead, whispering the same words whispered to me on the day of my vilification. A burden instantly lifted from my shoulders, and I felt the bonds that I had with the depraved plane shrink back and slowly begin to disappear. With a deep sigh, I felt myself being pulled from that world and into my own, though I could not just leave him as he was—I am not a monster. The least I could do was issue a warning.
“Red Hound,” I said, addressing him as my previous name, “life is chasing you at your heels instead of being gripped in your maw, and your spirit and your heart are in your head and not where they rightly should be. Now, though: when the snow falls, your prints will be erased, when the moon rises, your howls will be forgotten, and when you speak no one will listen. Great sorrow is hunting you down, and now you have the tooth and claw to defend yourself against it.”
“If I am the Red Hound,” he asked me, “then what are you?”
“I am the rising moon,” I answered joyfully as I was pulled away from that world and into the beautiful world of which I so adored. And finally my paws left the ground, my body slowly evaporating away as I rose higher and higher into the night sky, finally released from my material form, reaching up with my invisible fingers until they wrapped around the moon and I could see my world from the vantage point of which I fell in love with it from.