Luther felt that he couldn't hold the corner hole of this hill for too long. He is only a boy; his hand had not enough strength to hold this. The sharp edge of the rock scraped his palm and tiny grains of wet soil crumbled beneath his fingernails, stinging his skin with a raw burn. Then, after a few seconds, there appears a young boy the same age as Luther, stepping out of the misty green of the hillside as though the trees themselves had whispered him forward.
The boy strongly kicked the wolf's back and made him fall from the hill. The sudden thud echoed down the slope like a drumbeat of thunder. At the very same moment Luther's hand was fully numb and left the hill, the muscles in his arm screaming, but the boy risked his life and jumped fast and grabbed the hand of Luther, and he started hanging again, his fingers clutching with surprising strength for someone so young.
The boy said, "Don't move too fast; just stay slow. I can hold you," his voice a mixture of urgency and steady confidence, but the problem was he was holding him with one hand, so it was tough for him also because he was also a young boy, only 11 years old. The wind howled around them, carrying the scent of pine and damp earth, making their hair whip across their faces. But Luther looked at the boy; his dress was just like that of a warrior with a unique symbol stitched in silver threads that shimmered faintly even under the clouded daylight.
The boy is clever too; he used his legs and fingers to dig some soil off the hill and grip hard into the ground, then he pulled his other hand to Luther and lifted him up with a grunt that echoed off the rocks. Then two boys lie on the ground and take a rest, breathing in the cool mountain air, chests rising and falling like bellows after a long battle.
Then two boys conjoin and release the baby deer. The little creature trembled, its delicate legs shaking as it scrambled to freedom. After this Luther starts walking and wants to leave, but the boy goes closer to Luther and asks with curiosity and a smile that revealed a quick flash of bright white teeth, "Hey boy, what's your name?"
Luther became angry and said, "What! Why do you call me a boy when you are also a boy, and my name is Luther? And what is your name?" His voice carried both irritation and the faintest hint of amusement.
The boy replied with pride and told him, "I. am John, and I lived in the front of this jungle and hill, the village of Lord Warrior." His words held a quiet authority, as if the name of his village carried hidden power.
About John—
A young boy with handsome looks and 11 years old, he also carries charm in personality, and most importantly, he is the son of a lord, but it will be a secret for Luther because John didn't tell him now. His aim was just to become the greatest warrior, and he was also a hardworking and tough boy. His eyes just look like a lion's, and he is wearing clothes that look like they come from a royal family, garments that rustle softly with each movement. A unique thing to be noticed is that he wears the earring on his one ear, a tiny golden circle that caught the fading sunlight. He is taller and also smarter and does not look like ordinary boy.
Now back to story:
Hearing that Luther keeps silent and doesn't reply anything but just walks again, the sound of his soft footsteps mixing with the distant call of unseen birds. The boy became angry and went again to Luther and asked, "Why are you ignoring me?" His brows knitted together, showing both frustration and genuine curiosity.
Luther said, "I don't," and told him bye.
But John is an importunate boy; he holds Luther's hand and tells him not to leave and talks to him. His grip was firm but not unfriendly, a silent plea for companionship.
Luther is not interested in talking or staying. The breeze carried a faint scent of rain, and the leaves above them whispered like conspirators.
The boy is kind of a manipulator also, and he tries to manipulate Luther by telling him, "We are the same age, and I hope our villages can be nearby so we can be friends and play or hang out together." Luther extremely said, "No, it's not possible for me. I don't have permission to make friends or hang out or play with them."
John asked, "But why, my brother?" with a cute smile. Luther also smiled and said, "We are not brothers."
"But we can if you want to and make a good friendship," John said. When this conversation was going on, they both heard a small noise of something.
"Kssssh ksssh," someone is scratching something. The two curious boys go again at the corner; they both see the wolf hanging very hardly on the knur of a tree and scratching the wall of the hill. The sound was eerie, a harsh rasp that made the hairs on the back of their necks rise.
Luther quickly said we need to save this creature, but John said, "Are you a fool? This monster will kill and eat you before! Do you forget that?" With some angry reaction on the face, his voice cracked like dry wood.
Luther said, "I know he is also an animal, Johb; his habit and survival nature was to eat flesh, but we must save him." His own voice softened, filled with quiet conviction that surprised even him.
John said, "Do what you want; I don't take part in your madness."
Luther set up his mind to do it alone. The clouds thickened overhead, a gray curtain that dimmed the late-afternoon light.
However, John's mind told him that if Luther did this alone, he would face problems and probably fall down and die, so he went against his mind and told Luther that he would help him.
But they don't have any rope; how can they help him? John gave a plan and said he would lie down and hold Luther's leg. Luther agrees with him, then they plan implementation, and they do just They planned and succeeded in hanging up the wolf. Their bodies strained with effort; dirt smeared their clothes and the smell of damp earth filled their lungs.
The wolf came up but did no harm to the boys and left silently, its yellow eyes catching a final glint of light before vanishing into the deep forest shadows.
Luther "You look, John, if you have pity in mind and help someone selflessly, then he would never harm you." His words lingered like an echo of wisdom far older than his years.
John replied, "Yes, but if he tries to harm us, then I am ready to kill him. I bring a royal knife in my waist for safety." The faint metallic clink of the hidden blade underlined his point.
"Ha ha ha ha," John laughed, the sound warm and mischievous, bouncing off the rocks like small bells.
Luther, tell him you are a bad boy and left the place by telling him bye to John. John said, "I will wait for you, my brother, and the unique friendship bond we made."
Luther gave a big smile and replied, "I am not," and ran fast from the place to go back home, his footsteps fading into the gathering dusk as the hillside wind carried the scent of pine and the memory of their strange meeting.