To Run with the Golden Wolves

By The Good Life Creator 678

Disclaimer-I do not in any way shape or form own or claim ownership to RWBY or Legend of Zelda. They are the property of Rooster Teeth and Nintendo respectfully

Prologue

There once was a hero born into a fallen kingdom of old purged into a calamity, bringing forth monstrosities from feverish nightmares. He ran through the forests of the land forgotten to time, the winds of the wilds howling is name in gentle breathes. His armor of strange stone glowed as he stalked for the end of the calamity. By his side he kept his constant companion, a gilded blade that marked the evil's bane. For the sake of the long gone kingdom ruled by the long gone princess entrusted by the powers above, he drove away the darkness, the land basking in the golden light of his spirit.

The hero's return has been foretold to be marked by the sword of evil's bane calling to the golden wolves of the wild, searching the hero with the indomitable spirit to draw it from its final resting place.

The boy stammered through the forest, listening to the world around him thundering in the dead of night, his boy held tightly in his shaky hands. 'Let the wilds teach you.' A small yelp of fear sounded from his throat as the beast with black fur landed before him, bearing long fangs at the young boy. Blood stained saliva dripped and drooled to the dirt in long strands. Terror racked through the young boy's heart, his eyes widening. 'It's okay to feel fear; it lets you know what's at stake. Don't let it consume you.'

Ethereal wolves of golden light flooded from the boy, jaws crunching down upon the beast with the hide of shadow and bone. A howl escaped from it's maw as its claw moved forward in a futile manner, another wolf snapping its jaws onto the out stretched limb. The boy shook in place as his eyes welled with fear, gripping at his core with its icy touch. 'Courage is the ability to overcome fear, not the inability to feel it. Don't let fear consume you.'

Shaky young hands raised his bow, pulling the drawstring taught. 'Don't let it consume you.'

The beast howled in pain as the arrow flew into his head, dropping to the forest floor in a pool of black ink that reeked of malice. The boy let out a sob as golden wolves nuzzled his face, guiding him deeper into the forest. He was their word now, they would guide him through the world with its many beasts. He was the boy that ran with the golden wolves, destined for greatness.

The young boy walked forward in awe, the golden wolves brushing against him. The world around him was teaming with life, the sounds of the forest growing louder ad infinitum in an orchestra of bird chirps and rustling leaves. 'We are the wolves that run with the wild.'

He could feel the world around him shift and mold as he crouched down low, his exploring the new sounds that enveloped him, his eyes searching the trees as new lights filtered through the branches. 'We hunt in through the forest and the fields. We howl with the that rushes over the blades of grass.'

An intense sensation of glorious heat enveloped his body, expanding from his core and reaching out into the ether of the lands. The wolves looked at their charge with knowing eyes, ready to teach their ways to the new pup. 'You are the boy that runs with the golden wolves.'

The forest around the pack was alive with the music of nature. The children of the tree laughed about, the seeds rattling against their wooden walls, echoing through the wind. 'The world around you is your teacher.'

The boy followed his teachers, his eyes shifting from face to face, each one carved into leaves and dolls of the forest. 'The wind whispers its lessons into our ears.'

The wolves guided the boy to the clearing as yellow rays of brilliant sunlight dripped from the foliage above. 'Take heed, for they rarely repeat themselves.'

The boy walked into the clearing, the wolves of golden light standing watch, sitting on their haunches. In the center, just below the talking tree and his laughing children stood a magnificent sword. 'The wolf that waits for its prey will feast on nothing but air.'

Anxiety, fear, joy, euphoria, over came the boy in a kaleidoscope of emotions. His steps were wobbly, shaky with each motion towards the pedestal. Young hands gripped the hilt of the gilded blade as the tree watched with anticipation. 'If we wait for our journey to come, we will never take the first steps.' The young boy made the most important decision of his life.

He pulled the blade.