The first White Wolf I killed was not because I hunted it but because it had wandered into my home.
I had been circling the basin's outer rim in a slow loop to continue re-building my right wing. The headwind kept changing directions as the surrounding rocks altered the flow. The joint had started to un-stiffen recently and, if I kept my angle shallow and didn't fight the current, I could fly for longer and longer.
The wind carried the wolf's scent straight to me before I saw it. Wet fur and old blood. The sharp smell of exposed meat that had gone cold but not started rotting yet. It came from nearby and I turned my head in search of its origin.
I saw movement inside my base and a pale shape slipped between rocks as it made my way towards my storage cave. Suddenly, the wolf stopped and turned in my direction.
I was discovered.
Slowly, a second world stepped into view, followed by a third, then a fourth, etc. An entire pack of dogs had invaded my home and had the gall to challenge me. I could smell the hunger leaking off them and the poking rib cages of every wolf told me all I needed to know.
This would be a fight to the death.
I did not waste my fire. I dropped from the rim into a glide straight at the wolves. I do not know how these wolves could harm me, especially with my injuries long healed and my size being similar to semi-truck from my old world.
Landing in front of them, they bared their teeth and a chorus of growls rumbled through the tight space. Shifting into a wider arc, they spread out and two wolves, on the far left and right, tried to get behind.
Standard wolf tactics. I was assaulted by a fond memory of watching an episode on the Discovery channel about this.
Unfortunately for them, I was not in a forgiving mood.
I jumped towards the biggest wolf. These guys were way bigger than wolves on Earth so in order to eliminate the greatest threat I targeted him first. My weight came crashing down and a slow one got their leg crushed. The yelp of pain was sharp in my ear.
My tail whipped out in an arc, I wasn't really aiming specifically, while my claw swiped at the leader in front of me. The wolf was too late to react, and my power slammed it into the rocky wall with a resounding crunch.
It didn't get up.
My jaw closed around another wolf and bit through the side of its neck, thick fur making me choke slightly. The blood was hot and its heat filled my mouth with a taste like iron and fat, terrible to a human, but fine for a predator like me.
Looking around as I chewed, the fight was already over. The leader was dead; one wolf was just whimpering on the ground. I had killed one and crushed one with my tail, I did not even realize. The last wolf appears to have fled if the stench of piss and fear told me anything.
I let it go. Wolves were part of the land and had a natural part in the ecosystem. Or maybe I was just too lazy to hunt it down.
After ending the struggles of the whimpering wolf, I ate what I could and stored the rest in the ice part of my storage cave. Basically, a pile of ice I piled in the corner furthest from the heat.
Over the next few months, more and more wolves started appearing in my territory. I found their prints and half-eaten carcasses tucked under overhangs where snow had gathered heavily.
I also found tracks that were not wolfen, wider and deeper, made by something that walked on two legs and was heavy. Very heavy.
Orcs.
I smelled them the first time at night, when I landed on a ridge to rest my wings. While the ache was settling, a foul stench drifted in on the wind, old sweat, candle wax, and oiled leather. And the overwhelming rot of flesh left out in the sun to swelter.
It was so overwhelming that it took me a while just to discern if they were close or further away. The answer was far.
They moved through a low valley south of my basin, using the terrain to hide their blackened forms in the white expanse. I counted five at first, then eight, but more kept popping out until a whole band made their way in a staggered line. They carried spear and short blades, some had bow slung over their shoulders, and their faces were as ugly as sin. Their posture was slightly hunched, not the straightened gait of Saruman's Uruk-hai.
They were tracking something.
I stayed high on the ridge and observed their movements, moving parallel with them as my sharp eyes followed. I watched them stop and crouch to sniff the ground like the Wolves I had killed not so long ago. It was funny to watch and at the same time confirmed something I had been guessing at.
They weren't here for me.
To find a dragon, they would be scanning the ridges or trying to get higher in elevation to spot one flying. Their attention stayed on the valley floor, to a set of smaller prints that crisscrossed the snow in a messy weave, like someone had been moving quick while trying to erase their tracks.
The prints led towards a cluster of low mounds half-buried in drifted now.
At first, I thought they were just rocks but then I noticed their shape was unnatural and formed the remnants of a wall. The structure, whatever it was, had been lost long ago.
The orcs moved towards it in the same way those wolves had fought me, fanned out. Speaking of wolves, their was six of them slipping between broken stone and hunting as their masters commanded. Orcs and Wolves.
I saw a smaller silhouette move a moment later. A figure darting between cover, wrapped in pale furs, while more followed closely behind. Humans.
Not the same as the village people I had watched so long ago, but smaller, leaner, clothed for the cold, and their hair dark. They carried no weapons I could see, just bundles of tools and a sled was dragged, made from wood and bone, as they moved hurriedly.
The Orcs noticed them and once of them barked a command as the whole band charged. The wolves at their side rocketed forward closing the gap the quickest. It was not organized or smart.
I didn't announce myself.
I dropped from the ridge into the valley, keeping my body low and moving fast enough that the snow behind me sprayed behind me with a resounding crack. The orcs at the rear snapped their heads around at the noise. They were too late.
The first one raised his bow, but I plowed into him before he could draw. My weight crushing him fully into a dark red pancake on the ground, his ribs audibly snapping and his bow snapping in half.
I twisted and bit off the head of the Orc next to him. Terrible mistake.
Orcs taste terrible.
While spitting out as much blood as I could, another lunged at me with a spear. I angled myself so the spear glanced off my scales and my left claw swiped out, eviscerating him.
As his organs spilled out and he screamed, the rest of the band finally noticed my presence. The wolves came in next, giving up their pursuit of the humans, trying to bight into my wing.
Lifting my right claw, I took my wing away from their sharp teeth and slammed it back down snapping the spine of one.
Another wolf tried to bite into my scales, a mistake as the wolf's teeth shattered in its mouth. My tail was then raised and brought down, putting it out of its misery.
The remaining wolves backed away as caution overrode their aggression, they circled wider, looking for new angles of attack.
The orcs didn't back off. One of them charged straight at the humans, screaming in Black Speech, the rest turned back towards me. I wonder what their thoughts are seeing a dragon attack them after just being their superior in the War of Wrath.
My musing was put aside as I built flame up in my throat, once I had reached my max capacity, I released a torrent of magma onto the oncoming Orcs.
Their screams of pain and terror were annoying to hear and the stench of their cooked flesh was nauseating. Four of them were lucky enough to die instantly from the heat melting their bodies, two were unfortunate to be half melted and gurgled blood on the ground.
The last two to be touched were writhing as the pain was present but death was not. In the space of ten minutes the band of twenty orcs was reduced to nine, though the one charging the humans was now a arrow pin cushion.
Make it eight.
The reaming orcs and wolves were now terrified, I think I even saw one with a spear piss himself. The terrible part for them is that I was blocking the only escape route out of the valley.
One orc, the leader, stepped forward and started yelling at me in Black Speech. I had not realized until now that I could actually understand what he was saying, must be a "bloodline" ability.
"Nalkroro do lat drepa uuk worm!"
Basically, he was asking why I was killing them.
"Kulknej ayh boavh morgoavh'uk creaavion!"
Now, he was saying that we were both created by Morgoth.
"buesnauk wiavh uuk avo drepa avheuke bur filavh!"
He was asking me to help them kill the humans.
My answer was a roar. My voice thundering and reverberating off the valley walls. My bull rush seemed to be clear enough for them.
The Orc barked commands at the remaining Orcs before sprinting towards one of the wolves. The seven left attacked me, targeting my wings with spears and crude swords.
As I fought, the humans were circling around cautiously, making their way towards the exit behind me. I let them.
What I did not allow was the orc leader to ride his wolf past me in escape.
My tail slammed into the side of his wolf and died instantly. He was flung through the air and hit the wall just above the retreating humans.
His broken body fell at their feet as they jumped back in surprise. The wheezing and broken breathing that reached my ear told me he would not be a problem for them.
Turning back, I finished off the last of them and then stuffed as much snow into my mouth as I could. Orcs taste disgusting.
The humans had stopped moving and stood in a tight cluster around the orc leader's body. Someone had stabbed him. Alot.
Seeing my approach, they watched with wide eyes and fear as the gap closed. Finally, I stopped and stared at them.
One of them held a child close, trembling but resolute in putting their body in front. Another held a weapon; their grip shaking and faces pale. The air was cold and their cheeks were raw, mouths slightly open as they struggled to breath under the pressure of an apex predator.
Seeing as they were deciding whether to scream or pray, I turned away and made my way to the exit. Settling down on my haunches in the snow, I kept my wings tucked in and my tail still. The only movement was my breath, slow and steady, and the rise and fall of my chest.
The valley was silent now except for the wind and the faint crackle of moving ice.
Behind me I heard them move and carefully speaking in low voices.
I did not look back. The choice was theirs.