Rio Lobo, The River Wolf
A long time ago, in a country called Lobo, there was an old legend. This wasn't just any legend that you normally hear, but a legend that had its truths. The legend begins at the heart of the country, where Rio Lobo was born. It was a quiet, lush, wooded area. Owls cooed, wolves howled, yet all was still beyond vision. The River Wolf's story had just begun.
"Come on, we better go back now Belean."
"But Lobo, can't we keep chasing it, just a little bit longer."
"Absolutely not, if we don't get back soon, we'll both be in loads of trouble. They don't know what we're doing."
The two of them ran through the forest with complete stealth. They knew the forests well, they knew all the creeks, gorges, and valleys. They always left the pack to go exploring on their own.
They were told to stay close to the pack, yet, they always ended up miles away. They'd end up in places where they never thought they could go. They'd scale down a steep hillside with the skill of a mountain goat, the strength of a lion, and the cleverness of a fox. The two were best of friends, they'd rarely go off anywhere without the other right beside them.
"Keep up, Lobo. You're beginning to slag behind."
"I know what I'm doing, Belean, I heard something."
Lobo was slowing, and now at a trot.
"Well, what was it?"
"I don't know; stop for a second will you? Stop and listen. Do you hear anything, anything strange?"
"No, all I hear is the wind, and thunder."
"You don't hear that low pitched noise? Listen carefully, that's not the wind...or the thunder."
At first all they could hear was the...