Breath of life by firstamazon

Breath of life

She was old. As old as the sun, by her reckoning, but that had been many, many years ago. She wasn’t even sure if she had come before the rising of the star or not. It had been so long that she didn’t even remember her name. If she were a woman, she would be a matron of her tribe. But she was not a woman. She was not even a person.

One thing was undeniable: she had been, for many moons, the oldest breeding female of the pack.

Blind, crippled beyond repair, and still as tough as the rocks that served as her nesting place. Many a young orc still came to her bed. If they were descendants or not, it mattered little. Her masters were pleased, and the Wolf looked at her with something akin to pride in his eyes anytime she birthed another squeaking thing.

The little one would look at her with bright eyes, as bright as… no, she couldn’t remember. Her memories were as foggy as the mist that crept from the mountains. It didn’t matter. The Wolf allowed her to keep the little ones and feed them until their teeth grew and they were able to chew on raw meat. After that, they were no longer hers to worry about.

She lived a reclusive life, but she didn’t care. Not anymore. Her days of prowess on the battlefield were over, and she had been all too lucky to have survived this long. All she cared about now was the pleased eyes of the Wolf Master as he took another babe to be trained as a soldier. They would spill their blood – her blood – for the great Lord Melkor, and with it, her spirit would linger on the tainted earth as she laughed, toothless, from her den.