Amin Nightcoat

Another bit of my story. This one centring on Amin Nightcoat. A character that I have mention previously in this blog. But for those who don’t know. Amin is a creature called a Wolfling. A humanoid creature with the head, coat and claws of a wolf. They are fast and swift and live off of hunting. Amin has black coat, hence his name, and has recently became the clans chieftain.

Normally you would find them (or they would find you rather) in woodlands and forests but Amin’s clan is currently living as refugees in a human town which hasn’t been all that welcoming.

Do let me know what you think of this. It is only a snippet and I am still playing around with the story so criticism will only help.

Cheers!


 

Amin walked down the cobble stone path, heading east towards his ghetto. It was another unsuccessful day, the guards had refused him entry into the Lords hall, his people were only given bare scraps and had to resort to begging. And three more members of his clan had disappeared.

He felt ashamed for resorting to this. But he also felt rage for the humans that wouldn’t help them.

His clawed feet click softly on the stones, slowly dulling the claws. He carried his spear, despite protests from the guards for during the night he had to be prepared.

It was odd for him to be in a town. His wolfling senses were still adjusting to the new sounds and smells. In the woods he would smell all kinds of life, flowers, and trees and nearby animals. He would hear the wind, the songs of birds, and the nearby river gurgling silently and of course his clan’s laughter.

Here however, there was no laughter, at least none that was real. This place is the lair of politicians and noble men and women. Even the low born believe they are above most. Naturally there is nothing but lies and selfish grabs for power. The laughter was fake and to his kind it was often cruel.

And then there are the sounds and smells. The people here are loud. Their feet practically stomping, shouting when they could be speaking. The days roar with chatter and the nights with drunken fools.

The air smells of dust and stone. The meat being cooked over fire wood and coal was unpleasant. They keep beasts as cattle and instead of hunting their meat they breed it. Being bred to die was no way for any animal to live.

Manure and dung can be smelled everywhere. As well as coal and dirt. Amin could even smell the inns from here. This late they were full and even though he was outside and a fair distance away he could already smell the ale and sweat.

In fact Amin could even smell the breath of the man just around the corner. No. not man, men.

Three walked out around the corner. Amin wasn’t surprised, he could hear their clumsy footsteps a league away despite their efforts to conceal themselves. And now that they were before him the stench was unbearable. Tobacco on breath and clothing, dung from the stable lingered on their boots, ale, a few pints at least, stained their breath. Other narcotics and toxins seeped out of their pores as well, making a highly unpleasant stench to those around them.

Each wore a grin that unnerved the Wolfling, his kind weren’t welcome here and so trouble lies behind each corner.

“Fancy that” the large man in the middle. Amin made a mental note of him as soon as he saw him, he wasn’t the toughest looking but it was clear he was the alpha. “The dog has bared teeth.” He gestured towards the spear.

Amin remained silent, staring into his challengers eyes.

“What do you think lads? What do we do to violent dogs?”

The big one started laughing; he smelled of coal dust, must have been one of the miners. The smaller one smelled of fresh water and salmon, a River-man. It was the river man who answered.

“We cut off their balls of course” to which he took out a thin knife with a curved point.

Amin’s grip tightened around his spear and he spoke with a menacing growl.

“Walk away now! While you still can. And if you so much as touch a wolfling I will gut you!”

“Oh we wouldn’t dare ‘touch’ one of your kind.” The Alpha approached drawing a knife of his own. “Well, maybe after a few more pints” he lunged with the blade but Amin was too quick.

Amin side stepped the man and grabbed the knife hand, he pulled it past him while sweeping his foot under his.

The alpha fell forward giving Amin time for the rest.

The fisher was next, slashing furiously. Amin leaned back and pivoted his hips to dodge the knife. He found an opening and-

WHACK

The butt of the spear cracked against the fishers face.

A footstep behind him, he ducked as the big one punched the air. Amin spun round and slammed the spear shaft into the brute’s side. No effect.

Amin rolled out of the way before he grabbed him.

The man roared in pain as the spear tip slashed through his arm. Amin rolled behind him and sliced into the back of his knees. As the miner fell Amin jumped and smacked the spear into his head, knocking him out.

Amin turned round to face the Alpha; he was now shaking as he picked himself up.

“Stay down!” Amin growled.

But the alpha didn’t listen.

“G-GUA-” His cry for help was cut short as the Wolfling plunged his spear into his throat.

“I warned you”

Amin planted his foot on the Alpha’s chest and forced him to the ground as he retrieved his spear. Blood gushed out of his neck as he drowned in blood.

“No more” Amin said to himself “we start tonight”

He killed the last two and returned to his clan to plan their next move.

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13 thoughts on “Amin Nightcoat

  1. Your words are descriptive and colorful, allowing me to imagine myself in the scene. The ending says this is only the beginning… But I wish it wasn’t a portent of more violence to come.

    Like

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