Red Wolf Blogs

 From the 09/19/25 newsletter: I need to issue an apology to my readers for possible errors in our previous excerpt. To explain, let me give you a little background. The story of the adventurous love affair between Erin Callen and Theon Alanis, chronicled in the Song of Tsing trilogy, has been pieced together mainly from three different sources. Two of them were originally oral ballads transposed into the written word thousands of years later by historians. The Illisandra, an ancient Persian epic about an antediluvian prince, contains accounts of battles in which the protagonist fought against a mighty king with a singing sword. The Orcanis Heraldanus , a somewhat disjointed collection of folk tales from across Saharan and sub-Saharan Africa, has a number of versions of the affairs of both Erin/Theon and Shia/Mustava, plus related references to places like Azurith, Zemburith, and Arleanne. But the document that ties the stories together and links them with the activities of the...

 From the 08/22/2025 newsletter: 12 th Day of Snow Moon, 1219 th Year, Human Age of Magic … I cannot believe that I am alive. I should not have ignored my nose when I detected the scent of hyena before leaving the safety of my cave. Indeed, the beasts were concealed nearby. I’d gone no more than a dozen longspaces from the cave entrance when they came out of hiding and surrounded me. I managed to stun the alpha female with a throwing stone, and for a moment I thought I might escape. However, weakened from days without food or water, my legs gave way when I tried to run. I stumbled, and the beasts were on me in an instant. I tried to fight, but there were too many. I was about to be torn to shreds and eaten piece-by-piece when a savior arrived in the unlikely form of a human female warrior. She charged to my rescue astride a mighty steed, raining arrows of death upon the hyenas, killing half the pack outright and scattering the rest to parts unknown. The last thing I rem...

 From the 07/18/2025 Newsletter: 12 th Day of Snow Moon, 1219 th Year, Human Age of Magic … Finally! The female hellhound and her mongrel pack have moved on. I woke before dawn this morning after a delirious, nightmare-filled sleep and peered out of the cave entrance to see … nothing! I lay at the mouth of the cave, peering into the gathering light, desperately hoping the rising sun would reveal that it wasn’t a hallucination brought on by dehydration. I’ve not had a drop of water since draining my waterskin yesterday, and my eyes are so dry and scratchy that closing the lids gives no relief. Yet, as the sun rose and the shadows disappeared, there was not a hyena in sight. The scent of the pack lingers, but there were so many keeping vigil for so long, how could their smell ever be entirely gone? I’ve sniffed, watched, and listened for hours. It is now mid-morning, and if the pack was lurking nearby, surely they would have given themselves away by now. I’ve stuffed my empty water...

 From the June 20, 2025 Newsletter 11 th Day of Snow Moon, 1219 th Year, Human Age of Magic … I’m getting desperate. As I closed my eyes last night and tried to sleep, I prayed to the gods of Urgule that when I woke this morning the pack of hyenas keeping vigil at the mouth of the cave where I’m hiding would be gone, and I could be on my way. My prayers remain unanswered. I now count at least a dozen in my narrow field of vision at the mouth of the cave. The big female alpha lies patiently in the shade of a large boulder, one eye half open and focused on the cave entrance. Occasionally, she will raise herself on four paws, lock eyes with me, and growl. It sends a chill through my very being. It is hot, dry, and cramped here in the cave, and my water is completely gone, having just barely moistened my mouth with the last few drops from my waterskin moments ago. At this point, even if the bitch gives up and takes her pack to find other prey, I will be too weak and dehydrated ...

From the May 16, 2025 Newsletter ...   10th Day of Snow Moon, 1219 th Year, Human Age of Magic … It’s the afternoon of the second day of my stand-off with the pack of hyenas. I’m hunkered down in this small cave where they cannot get to me. But I have no food and only enough water to last a day or two if I ration it sparingly. I had hoped that I could wait them out until they lost interest and left. But they show no signs of giving up the prospect of feasting on my poor carcass. Their perseverance is both disturbing and confusing since I’m sure they could find better game than me in the surrounding grasslands. It’s the big female alpha that is keeping them here—I am certain of it. She didn’t like that I outsmarted her and thwarted her hunt. When I look in her eyes, I see more than hunger. I see hatred. She’s cunning too. This morning, she dragged the remains of my pack to the cave mouth—without the food, of course. She left it just out of my reach, then disappeared. I susp...

 (From the April 18, 2025 Newsletter) 9th Day of Snow Moon, 1219 th Year, Human Age of Magic … I’m writing this journal entry from the safety of a small cave near the pass between the Darinian and Faricican mountain chains. It is hard to see the position of the sun from my hiding place, but I believe it is mid-morning now. I had hoped to reach the pass before nightfall yesterday, but dusk overtook me, and in the tall grass with the moon not rising until late, I found it impossible to proceed without losing my way in the darkness. I was nervous about predators, so I built a small campfire in the middle of the trail, something that usually keeps them at bay. I planned to stay awake and vigilant until the moon rose to light my way. Unfortunately, I was more tired than I was aware and fell asleep, waking in the early hours of dawn to a smoldering campfire and a sound that brought my heart into my throat—a distant yapping and yowling that resembled a cruel laughter. Hyenas! I...

  8th Day of Snow Moon, 1219 th Year, Human Age of Magic … It’s been six days since I made a journal entry, trudging north along the old road by night and sleeping hidden in the forest during the day. I may as well have been traveling during the day, because I’ve not seen evidence of any recent traffic along the way. And as dawn was beginning to break this morning, I reached the end of the road. The road had been getting steeper since early evening as I approached the mountain range, and I’d expected it to continue to wind into the hills. Instead, it came to an abrupt halt at the bottom of a forested peak. I found a small path leading westward into the forest that ended after about a quarter of a pentag. Of course, I don’t want to go in that direction anyway. I did, however, find a pathway leading into the tall grass eastward. As I’ve mentioned before, I am loath to go into the grass. My sense of direction gets disoriented, and I am worried about predators. But I climbed a t...

  Dusk, 2 nd Day of Snow Moon, 1219 th Year, Human Age of Magic … I’ve decided to take the trail that runs north along the edge of the forest instead of risking losing my way in the tall grass of the Plains of Saha’ar. It will be a longer journey but safer, especially if I travel at night. I don’t think there’s much traffic here, anyway, for I encountered none this entire afternoon as I foraged for fruits and nuts within the cover of the trees on the west side of the road. I was able to stuff my pack with walnuts, star apples, and a couple of baobab fruits. Along with the dried bowfin, I think I have enough food to last four or five days, if I ration it wisely. I assume I’ll be able to forage as I go, and there seems to be an abundance of small game here. Of course, I have no idea what I’ll find further north. The thing that worries me most is water. I’ve run across many small streams and have been able to keep myself well hydrated since I left the swamp, but I have nothing...

From the January 24, 2025 newsletter ... Morning, 2 nd Day of Snow Moon, 1219 th Year, Human Age of Magic … I haven’t slept much since I left the Swamp of Ozua, being anxious to put as much distance as possible between the castle dungeons and myself. Since I sneaked away under the distractions of the New Year’s Eve celebrations in Zemburith, I’ve taken only the occasional cat nap when I felt the need to rest, and I’m pleased with my progress. That first night, the light of a waning crescent moon was sufficient to negotiate the dense cypress groves and thickets near the swamp, and by morning the undergrowth had given way to a more open forest floor beneath a tall tree canopy, which was easier going. Late the next afternoon, I came upon evidence of logging—a large clearing where stumps of mahogany and teak absorbed the unhindered rays of the sun. There was a poorly maintained logging road leading away from the clearing, which I followed, assuming it would be the quickest way out of...