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I LICKED AROUND MY wound, glad to see it hadn’t reopened. The old wolf laid beside me outside my den, watching patiently. He’d refused to leave, and I was in no position to force him off. At least the night had cooled enough to calm me more than I expected. A crisp breeze ruffled my fur, almost as if Wolfor were rubbing against me.
Maybe that’s why I was still talking. I had started just as the sun was setting, and I hadn’t stopped since. The words kept coming, detailing everything that had happened since we met, as well as what happened years before. The old wolf watched with patient attention, stopping me only on the rare times he wanted clarification. Even then, he was so polite, I couldn’t find a reason to growl. Thus, my tale spilled from my mouth, as if I’d been holding it in my jaws all this time.
I eventually caught up to the more recent events after another check of my wound. “Once I realized she was gone, I limped my way here to find some measure of safety, and that's about it.”
“About it?” the old wolf said. “Isn’t there more?”
A growl finally formed out of annoyance. “No, not really.” The old wolf didn’t react at all. He laid there, staring at me while I pretended to care for my leg. Guess he does know something after all. “Okay, there is more. I felt something. When I saw her in danger, I went into a frenzy. I don’t know why. I don’t understand what I felt.”
The old wolf tilted his head ever so slightly. “Compassion? Care? Attraction? Love?”
I shook my head, trying to shake the feeling from my memory. “No. It isn't possible. I have no heart. I buried it three years ago. My future is to live in that den alone. Just like you... wait, you said you met a female and started a pack. Where are they now? Did they kick you out too?”
The old wolf’s ears dropped, and so did his head. I kept a huff silent out of respect, and more than a little fear of reprisal given my injury. When the old wolf’s eyes rose to meet mine, another thorn pricked at my chest.
“Humans,” he said. “Humans killed them all. First, my pups disappeared one by one. Then, as a final insult, the last of my previous litter panicked, and in trying to run away, he led them to our den. The last of my pack, including my mate, were killed before my eyes. I banished that pup out of grief before I realized the truth behind his error. I suspect he’s a lot like you are now: bitter and alone. Rightfully so, given my own crime.”
This time, I couldn’t help huffing. The parallel was too strong. “Another Toltan. Too blind to see the mistake, too foolish to let the pain fade before you make it.”
The old wolf snapped at me, to which I whined apology before he did more. “Do not lecture me, pup. Not until you’ve seen the blood of your pups on the fangs of another. Face that and act as you said, then maybe I’ll let you tell me what one should or should not do.”
I wanted to do so anyway, to give a snap of my own, but I had no ground to stand on, nor was there any cause for it. That said, my ears quickly returned to where they belonged: forward and alert. While I owed him the apology, he had not earned the right to be my alpha.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I can’t imagine that.”
“No, you can’t!” The old wolf closed his eyes, and breathed until his growl faded. He ended with an amused huff before opening his eyes again. “Now I owe you an apology. You don’t deserve that.”
I started ruffing, very close to laughing. Seemed like everyone was telling me when someone did or didn’t deserve something. Somehow ironic that, this time, the wolf that “deserved” something was me. The whole thing had to be a joke by Wolfor.
“You find that amusing, do you?” the old wolf asked.
If only you knew. “Forget it. It’s just me. Nothing more than the wolf that I am.”
“Oh? And what is that?”
I stared at him, still fighting a laugh. “You in a few years. A lone wolf trying to find some joy in a world that won’t let him. Not that I care. I’ve made my peace with that. Solitude is what I am and will always be.”
“Tell that to the human you just killed. Unless you really think that was just some blood rage that took control of you.”
“Worth a try. I’m pretty good at lying to myself. What’s another one?”
The old wolf turned his ears back while trying not to laugh. “Pup, you’re going to drive me crazy.”
A soft growl escaped my control, after which I didn’t bother trying to soften my glare. “I’m not keeping you here. I’m sure that fox is still out there, and I’d just as soon be alone anyway.”
“Is that so? Have you ever considered...”
Both of our ears shot up when a chorus of howls erupted close by. So close that, at first, I looked around, thinking they were right on top of me. I rose in case they were and winced when my leg reminded me of the wound. I tucked it against my body to remove the pressure and stop the pain, then perked my ears so I could follow the sound when they repeated the call.
“That’s odd,” I said. “There aren’t any packs out there.”
“Could be roamers,” the old wolf said.
“Not likely. There aren’t any packs there because that’s where the humans build their dens.”
The old wolf’s ears and eyes shot up. “What? And you live here?”
Like I have a choice. Well, perhaps I did. Living so close to that much danger did seem to give me the solitude I thought I wanted. At least it used to, though now that it’d been broken twice in one day, I had to admit, the attention was starting to appeal to me.
Not that I’d ever tell the old wolf that. “They are not the cleverest of beasts, despite their power. Still, that doesn’t explain the howls. Um, what are you doing?”
The old wolf was stalking into the forest toward the humans. He looked back at me with an almost devious tension in his ears. “I thought I’d see where those howls are coming from.”
“Are you mad? Those humans see you, you’re dead.”
“Why do you care? I thought you wanted to be alone.”
I would have growled at him if I wasn’t so busy trying to answer that question. Estrella was at least someone I knew. This wolf had done nothing but annoy me since we met. Truth is, I would have been glad to be rid of him in any way possible. Yet some part of me didn’t want to see the old wolf get killed.
I latched onto that and turned it into another of my lies. “The humans have killed enough of our kind. I’d rather not see another pelt hanging on the trees.”
I don’t think he believes me.
“First blind rage, now a touch of compassion. Better be careful, pup. One might think you actually care.”
A growl formed again, more so because my feelings hadn’t changed. Or because I didn’t want to give the old wolf the satisfaction of being right. “Fine. You want to satisfy your curiosity?” I limped ahead of him, tested the air, and checked my ears to be sure we were alone. “Stay close, stay silent, and do what I say. The last thing I need is you repeating your pup’s mistake.”
The old wolf gave a nice impression of Toltan’s death stance. “Careful, pup. I’ll not have—”
“My name is Luna! If you plan to survive this investigation, I suggest you remember it. Now shut your muzzle and follow me.”
My insides tensed, expecting fangs, except the old wolf didn’t offer any. In fact, he didn’t offer any reprimand at all. Not even a growl. If anything, the old wolf had lowered himself ever so slightly. I counted myself lucky considering my injury, then hoped I had some luck left for my next endeavor.
I led the old wolf toward the humans with frequent tests of scent and sound. I was not going to let myself get pounced on after surviving so much. That’d just be insulting. Or stupid, given the fact that I was heading toward dangerous hunters with a leg I might be able to use if I had to. Though if I did, I’d probably never get to use it again. Permanent damage, or starvation while it healed, would see to that. Guess they were right. Solitude drives you mad.
We moved like two shadows, picking our way toward light in the distance. My limp broke an otherwise silent journey, but even it was soft, and I had yet to hear any indication that anyone heard me.
Our pace slowed further when we approached the humans’ dens, which still appeared to be smooth boulders that were oddly colored. Like the last couple of years, the humans were moving around these “dens,” many of which seemed to glow from the inside. Shadows on the sides appeared to be the silhouettes of more humans within. I saw no sign of a fire, though I did see them gathered around one of their rocks that held two glowing stones inside it. I didn’t understand those any more than their glowing sticks, other than it provided light the humans seemed to need. Poor creatures. So much power, yet they lacked the natural ability to see in the dark.
“I don’t see anything,” the old wolf whispered.
I scanned the humans' gathering area, looking for some sign of the wolves we’d heard. I knew I had the right direction, so where were they?
Some yips drew my attention to the side of the dens. There my eyes stayed while my brain refused to accept what they were telling me. There were wolves there. Five of them, not just among the humans, but interacting with them, rubbing against them with affection. Tails were wagging, an odd behavior in its own right, at the humans’ mere presence, as if they were their parents. There were tales of wolves going mad, but this was something far beyond mere insanity. At least we had discovered why the barks from before has sounded so wolf-like. They were wolves.
The old wolf started muttering. “Vinsi? Harso? Marron?”
My ears dragged my eyes toward the old wolf. His eyes were transfixed on the wolves, and he was walking toward them. He moved slow, step after step, almost as if absorbed in a hunt. Except this was much more dangerous prey, and I nearly turned inside out in panic when I realized he wasn’t going to stop.
I took a deep breath, then reached forward, grabbed the old wolf by the scruff, and dragged him down before someone saw him. My leg screamed in agony, but I held my breath, avoiding any noise beyond the rustle of me and the old wolf hitting the ground. Wolf ears turned our way, followed by human eyes. They pointed their light sticks out into the forest, shining beams of sunlight against tree and brush. I froze, too terrified to shake, or even be angry.
“Do. Not. Move,” I said. “Don’t even breathe.”
The old wolf’s voice was barely a whisper. “Luna. Luna, those wolves—”
“I said, quiet! Stay quiet or we’re both dead.”
The old wolf tried to move on until another human stepped out of a den with a thunder stick in his paws. The old wolf turned to stone, though I could feel his body tremble next to mine. I could only pray it wouldn’t give us away.
The light beams scanned the forest, looking for us. I heard things scurry away, but I watched those beams with all my focus. Every time they came near, my heart stopped, wondering if they’d keep going this time. When the humans’ wolves started to approach, I prepared to ruin my leg in retreat.
Then the humans started barking. Soft and firm at first, then with much more force. It was only then the wolves hugged the ground, their eyes up at their masters like they were their alphas. The humans grabbed them by a vine of some kind that was tight around their necks. Something I had seen on the dogs they’d brought before. For some strange reason, it appeared to be a source of control for the humans. However it worked, the wolves had halted their advance, though the humans were giving the forest one more look. I didn’t breathe until they led the wolves back toward the dens, and the human with a thunder stick vanished into his own.
“We’re safe,” I said. “For now.”
The old wolf rose with a shake of his shoulders. When he looked at me, he looked a lot like Martol the night she appeared to die within. The memory drew a twitch from my ears and a desire to look anywhere else.
“Luna,” the old wolf said. “Those wolves. We have to do something.”
The pain of my leg is probably the only thing that reminded me I was still alive. The rest of me was consumed by the question of whether or not the old wolf had lost his mind.
“We? What we? What makes you think... forget that. Why? Why do we have to do anything? Those wolves were submitting to the humans. Don’t you understand what that means?”
“More than you can know. That’s why we have to do something to free them.”
I take it back. Wolfor’s fang, I hope I am nothing like him in a few years. At least I’m still sane. “I return to my original question. Why does it matter?”
“Because those are my pups.”
My ears shot up so straight it felt like they grew longer. “They’re what? You can’t be sure of that.”
“Spoken like a wolf with no young of his own. Trust me, Luna. When you have a litter, you’ll know them without trying. Their fur, their eyes, so many little things that to others mean nothing. But I tell you, I look at those wolves and I know, they’re my pups. The ones that vanished before the humans killed my pack.”
True or not, I couldn’t deny the old wolf believed it. That certainty did nothing for my insides, or my concern that the old wolf had gone insane. The question was pointless, really. There or gone, his mind had been made up. That left me in search of an answer as elusive as that fox.
Why do I care?
The question bounced around my head, stirring an internal battle while the old wolf stared at me. I tried to ignore his eyes, but they wouldn’t go away. There was a void behind them. An old shell where a wolf once lived. Just like Martol. That night returned to me as if it had just happened. Pain, fear, helplessness, it was all there, begging me to make it not so. The tears I’d cried that night broke me. Insane or not, I couldn’t let him go alone. For reasons I could never find, I just couldn’t.
“All right,” I sighed at last. “All right. But if we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it right. We can’t help them if we’re dead. You say you recognize them on sight even after all this time? If they’re anything like I am... was, it works both ways. They should know you by sight and scent immediately. The only way we can help them is if they help us.”
Light returned to the old wolf’s eyes for the first time. “So, what’s your plan?”
“We wait. The humans always sleep inside their dens together. We must wait until they are all asleep. Then, we approach the wolves as quietly as possible from downwind. They must see us before they smell or hear us, or they’ll alert the humans. If they do...”
“The humans will kill us,” the old wolf said. “I’ve waited this long. I think I can control myself for a while longer.”
“Please do. This is what one human did to me. I don’t like our chances against six plus their wolves.”
The old wolf growled, but stopped short of snapping. “They belong to no one.”
I was surprised to hear my voice come out calm and almost soothing. “Until they remember you, they are part of the humans’ pack. You above all know the power that bond holds.”
The old wolf sighed with a forward tick of his ears. Neither of us said another word.
We found a comfortable spot behind a bush where we could watch the humans in safety. The two humans that remained outside the dens continued to growl and ruff at each other, oblivious to our presence. They held what looked like ice in their paws, yet there appeared to be some kind of brown liquid inside. While it looked like water, the scent that drifted on the wind was far too harsh to be anything I wanted to risk tasting. At times, they’d tap the “ice” together, which appeared to cause them some manner of pleasure. I could only guess they found the clinking sound amusing, or maybe they were playing some kind of game to see whose ice broke first. If so, no one ever won, because the ice never broke.
The only change in behavior came when one of the wolves came close to them. He repeatedly pushed his nose under the human’s paw until the human rubbed behind the wolf’s ears. The human barked softly, affectionately, to which the wolf responded by sitting still for the rubbing, even leaning into it as if to make it feel better. When the human stopped, the wolf would nuzzle again, or nuzzle the other human to get him to do it, or sit and stare, begging, until one of them resumed the rub.
Wolfor, I thought the humans were an odd creature. To see wolves acting in such a manner, I didn’t know what to make of it. How could any wolf abandon their instincts enough to act like that? I wondered if our mission was little more than an elaborate suicide. If that’s what the old wolf had in mind, I decided I’d rather go soul dead, the final state in which sick or injured wolves will cease to care for themselves. It’s often more a final symptom of their injury or illness, but given a choice, I’d rather do that than charge into death as if it were a friend. It felt more respectable somehow.
Our chance to avoid death finally came when the humans gathered the wolves just behind their dens. There, they had something that looked like a giant spider’s web strung between stiff, bare trees that created an enclosed space. All of the webbing was the color of stone and seemed to be about as strong based on how little it moved when a human pulled at it. Instead of breaking, they swung part of the webbing out to provide an opening the wolves trotted into without protest. Then the humans closed the webbing, trapping the wolves inside. I couldn’t decide which was worse: the willingness to be confined, or the simple whimpers the wolves gave when the humans walked away. These were not cries of fear, but of longing, and short-lived ones at that.
Short as they were, they were long enough to force the old wolf to rise and shake like he had before. I watched him carefully, preparing in case he lost control again.
“Luna,” the old wolf said. “Luna, what do we do now?”
I watched the humans work with their glowing rocks. Some took them into dens that had been dark, while others put theirs out. A second later, many of the dens that had been glowing darkened, beginning a process I had seen many times. At least something is familiar.
“We continue to wait,” I said. “Just a little longer.”
“But... but my pups...”
“Appear to be okay for now. Look at them. They’re not afraid. Two of them are already settling in to sleep. Patience. We must be sure the humans are asleep.”
The old wolf continued to shake but held his place. I kept an ear turned his way in case that changed, while my eyes watched the humans’ dens for our chance. The silhouettes on the dens that were still lit moved around, rummaging for who knows what. Maybe they were eating cached meat, or mating, or fighting; there was no way to be sure.
The glowing eventually stopped within them all. I watched and waited as a few grunts sounded within. Then, at last, dead quiet.
Let’s choose our words more carefully, I thought with a ruff.
I waited a moment more to be sure before rising myself. I winced as my wound shot pain up my shoulder, reminding me of my limitations while forcing my leg to tuck.
“I can do this alone, Luna,” the old wolf said. “You’ve done enough.”
I only hesitated because I hurt too much to think for a moment. “And if those humans wake up? You don’t know them like I do. No, we started this together. That’s how we’ll finish it.”
The old wolf just huffed, which frustrated me because I couldn’t decipher the comment. Had he said something, at least then I’d have something to react to. Instead, I was left with a curious shift in my ears, wondering what it was he was saying.
I abandoned the search in favor of limping a wide arc around the humans’ dens. I stayed among the trees and brush, never letting the dens out of my sight for long. When I heard clinking nearby, much like the sound the webbing made when it was manipulated, I froze. The webbing was obscured by a tree, but I couldn’t hear any human barks, nor did any of the dens start glowing again. When the forest went silent again, the old wolf and I continued on our way toward his pups.
The more we moved, the more I wished I could hear something besides our paws. The forest was dea... wrong word choice!... completely silent, without so much as an owl screeching in the treetops. There was only the quiet grind of our claws in the dirt, as well as every beat of my heart. My ears were locked forward, my nose tested the air with each step of my good foreleg, and every hair stood ready to scream should they find anything. With any luck, it would be enough to avoid getting pounced on by anything, least of all the humans.
My ears perked further when they caught a rustling sound. My eyes dissected every shadow, finding only swaying leaves in the breeze. My ears said otherwise as the rustling continued, followed by the wind confirming the presence of other wolves nearby. While the scent was too weak to identify, it was definitely familiar.
As the noises came closer, it became a uniform snuffling, as well as a fair amount of snaps and rustles from barging through brush. Whoever these wolves were, they weren’t very good. That said, I wasn’t about to chance it. This close to humans, we couldn’t afford the noise of a border dispute, to say nothing of my wound. I softly ruffed at the old wolf before hunkering down as low as I could get. The old wolf followed my example, though his ears also remained forward and alert.
Branches broke with loud snaps just ahead, while snuffles echoed across as if they were ruffing at each scent they found. Guess the humans are heavy sleepers. These wolves had to be on their first hunt to be making such a racket. I continued to hear them long before one came into view.
Definitely a young wolf, though not much older than I was, if at all. His fur was so smooth, so clean, it hadn’t seen a lick of real strife. Otherwise, he could have passed as the old wolf’s twin. His fur was dominated by dark gray, with brown highlights on his back, ears, and tail. Only difference was a brown vine tight around his neck and a slightly thinner build.
My head popped up as I realized I’d seen that wolf before. He was one of the wolves the humans had, except they were trapped by the webbing, or at least I thought they were.
Before I could doubt it was him, the old wolf stood up with a gasp.
“Vinsi?” he said.
This Vinsi, if it was him, stared at the old wolf without moving. His ears, still as stone, turned in the old wolf’s direction. They locked eyes, and neither appeared to breathe.
Another wolf, much like the first but with no brown at all, came around a tree shaking his head. “Vinsi. Will you come on? If we’re going to have any fun out here, we’ve got to get going before...” This second wolf became much like the first when he saw the old wolf. “It can’t be. Father? Is that you?”
The old wolf struggled to breathe as tears formed on his cheeks. “Harso. You never did learn our traditions well. You must use my name so I may retain who I am.”
Now it was the pup’s turn to be short of breath. Whines lasted a second before both had their heads against their father’s in the blink of an eye.
“Carlin,” Vinsi said. “Carlin, we thought you were dead.”
Pain of envy turned bitter and forced an amused ruff to escape my control. “Carlin. So, you do have a name.”
Carlin allowed a moment to growl at me before returning to his pups. I looked away, not wanting to see warmth I’d never feel. I found the other wolves sliding under the edge of the webbing. As far as I could tell, they’d somehow dislodged the lower part, allowing them to slip under it and escape. The only thing that gave them away was a soft clinking of the webbing. Clever wolves, I thought with a chuckle.
The three remaining wolves looked around until they saw us. I worried they might alert the humans, until they too turned to stone for a moment. When a few tentative steps became a sprint our way, I scuttled in retreat before they ran me over on their way to their father.
These didn’t wait to confirm. They were on Carlin like he was prey, except instead of making a kill, they whimpered, and whined, and nuzzled, and licked him all over. A yip or two sounded when one couldn’t get to him to fawn over him. I watched the exchange, rolling my eyes at them. And I thought Estrella hadn’t grown up.
Carlin took it with tears streaming from his eyes. He returned licks and rubs as best he could, though the flurry was beginning to die down. I found myself a place to lie down and let them be. I wasn’t part of their pack. I never would be. Besides, they’d do too much to my shoulder anyway, though it was a lie I used to keep from leaving entirely.
Still, I had to wonder what it would feel like. To feel Toltan’s fur against mine again. To have his tongue wet my fur. To hear his whimpers ring through my ears, straight to my heart. To be accepted, loved, again.
The mind wondered, but I knew I would never know. Not even Martol would give me that much anymore. As a lone wolf, no self-respecting wolf would have anything to do with me. So be it. Let them have their busy lives. Mine was just fine the way it was.
That lie didn’t keep me from listening in, as if maybe I could join in anyway in spite of it all.
“Marron,” Carlin said. “Altin. Tital. My pups. I thought I’d lost you all.”
“So did we,” Vinsi said. “When the humans took us, I thought for sure we were dead.”
“But they never hurt us,” Harso said. “In fact, they fed us. They cared for us, gave us dens to sleep in. Now we’re a pack. We live and hunt together.”
Carlin stopped his affection all at once. He grew still, then recoiled as if one of them had bitten him. He stood staring as if he might vomit at any moment.
“What are you saying? You’re helping them hunt?”
“Of course,” Harso said. “We’re a pack. We help them hunt, and they keep us fed and healthy.”
“You’ve been hunting wolves, Harso. Wolves! Don’t you understand that? Don’t you understand what they’ve done to you?”
“They’ve given us a home, Carlin. They’re actually very affectionate. You’ll see. They’ll take you in too. They’ll care for you like they did us.”
I ruffed dark amusement. Care for us? Yeah, right. Time for a reality check.
“Excuse me,” I said. “You aren’t really that dense, are you? You’ve seen what they’ve done to wolves. You think he’ll get special treatment? Uh-uh. They’ll see him as another wolf, they’ll grab their thunder sticks, and they’ll kill him like they have all the others.”
Vinsi gave a snarl I found impressive for a wolf raised by humans. “You don’t know them. You don’t know them at all.”
“Oh no? My leg says otherwise. One of them threatened... someone I knew. I had to stop him. This was my reward.”
One of the other pups raised her hackles with a growl. “That was you? You killed him? Do you know what that human meant to me?”
Carlin and I shared an appalled stare with ears so erect, they may never fall again.
“Marron?” Carlin said. “What are you saying?”
“I loved that human. He and I shared a special bond. Were he a wolf, I would have taken him as my mate.”
I tried to stop that image before it became rooted in my head. I tried very, very, very hard, but I failed to keep it from making me sick. A wolf mating with a human? Wolfor, kill me now.
Carlin, meanwhile, was backing up, more on the verge of hyperventilating. “By Wolfor, what have they done to you? You’re not even wolves anymore.”
“You can say that again,” I said, still trying to keep my last meal from coming back up.
Marron’s snarl and bristling hackles left me impressed enough to wonder when I should start running. “You dare insult us? Come on then. Show me the quality of your fangs.”
Humpf. Guess they have some wolf left after all.
Barks from behind drew my attention before I could respond. When I glanced back to check on it, I felt my heart stop. The humans’ dens were glowing again. Worse, some were already outside. Miss Hot Temper must have woken them up. As if I don’t have enough to deal with.
“Carlin,” I said. “we need to go, now.”
Carlin tilted his head at me, so I tossed mine toward the dens. When he looked back, his ears turned back in fear.
We turned to leave, but Marron jumped in front of us, still snarling fury. “You’re going nowhere. You took something of mine. I’ll not let you leave without paying with your—”
Carlin rushed forward and bit at her neck with a snarl that shook my ribs. Marron yelped more in surprise than pain. She tugged and pulled, breaking free, but falling back once she did. Vinsi attacked as she did, but Carlin dodged right around him, landing a sharp bite on his leg that drew blood.
When the other pups went for me, Carlin appeared between them. His ears were forward, his hackles were on end, and his snarl was worthy of Wolfor himself. Glad I haven’t pissed him off yet. His pups tried to match it, but their lower tails and ears said otherwise. As for Carlin, his tail waved straight up over him.
I looked over them to see the humans were still looking around as if confused. Their light beams scanned the forest again, while excited barks echoed from their meeting area.
“Carlin,” I said, “we’ve got to get out of here. Those humans won’t take long to find us.”
“They’ll only find me,” Carlin said through his snarl. “You run.”
“Excuse me?”
“You returned my life to me. Now I’m going to save yours. Get out of here. Get to safety.”
I pulled myself forward, but my injured leg refused to allow more than a limp.
Yet that’s not what stopped me. I looked back at the entire situation. I saw Carlin standing firm before his own pups, and I saw the humans gathering their thunder sticks. I knew what was coming. I tried to lie. I tried to tell myself I didn’t care.
I failed.
“What about you? I can’t just leave you here.”
“Yes, you can!” Carlin said. “My life is here now. You have too much to look forward to, lone wolf or not. Now get moving.”
“Not without you.”
“I said go!”
He charged his pups before I could respond. Vinsi was knocked onto his side, and Marron was yelping in pain as Carlin sank his fangs into her leg. The other three bit at him, but landed only surface bites as Carlin snarled fury, drawing the humans toward the sound.
I didn’t have a choice. Unable to fight, I winced through agony as I limped into the shadows before I was seen. Yelps and snarls followed as if the wolves themselves were right behind me. I couldn’t tell which belonged to who, and part of me preferred it that way. The rest wished I couldn’t hear them at all.
The wound reopened, allowing a trickle of blood to seep onto my leg. It couldn’t be helped, as a short sprint had become a trail of agony back the way I’d come. I limped and winced all the way to, and inside, my cozy little rock pile, where I curled against the inside wall in a tight ball, wondering when my shoulder had decided to sympathize with my leg. The original wound was burning more than it had when I was first stabbed, requiring every bit of self-control I had to keep from whining at the sheer torture running up and down my leg.
“Stop him!”
“He’s getting away!”
“Kill him!”
The calls echoed into my den, clear as if they were right outside. Snarls and yelps followed soon after. For a moment, it grew so loud I thought they were outside my den, or at least passing by. Carlin must be one tough wolf to be fighting five younger wolves and still be alive to—
CRACK!-CSHOO-shoo-sho
Crack!-Cshoo-sho-crackcrackcrack!-Cshooshoo-shooshoo-shoo
I flinched with each thunderbolt. My ears had long disappeared against my skull, while my entire body shook as if I were furless in a blizzard. I winced harder from the pain in my leg, which only added to my fear. I’d never fight off the wolves. Even if I did, the humans would get me instead. It seemed death was coming for me, and I could do nothing to fight it off.
I stared at the entrance of my den, watching, hoping, praying nothing would ever come through. Silence alone breathed inside. If I couldn’t hear my own breath, I would have sworn I’d gone deaf, for the air lay still as if it were as afraid as I was.
The forest lay silent for what felt like years. Too long for them to still be working their way toward me. Too long for me to sit around doing nothing, even though the blood on my leg was still wet. I had to risk a peek, if nothing else, so I’d know what was coming.
I kept my ears forward as I crawled through the tunnel of my den. My breath shook as much as I did, but I kept going. I had to know if they were still out there. I stopped just inside the entrance, where I peered out at the forest, picking apart every shadow that moved. A few moved too steady to be leaves. Then they cast beams of light onto the ground ahead of them.
My body became another stone among the pile. They were coming my way. At an odd angle but... no. Not my way. In my direction, but their angle was too far to the side. I risked peeking my head out to get a better view of the group. The humans had their light cast far and away from me. Three of Carlin’s pups were being led by a vine connected to that brown ring on their necks while another was being carried with great whimpers of pain.
Before I could find the fifth, I found something else. One of the humans was carrying another wolf, but this one made no sound, nor did he move, except for the flop of his paws against the human’s body. I allowed another few inches of advance to be sure. I saw a body dominated by dark gray, with brown highlights on back, ears, and tail.
“Carlin.”
I cringed in pain as tears I couldn’t understand fell from my eyes. I tried to shake them off. I tried to tell myself I had what I wanted. I had my solitude again, free from that annoying old wolf.
My lies didn’t work. Another wolf was dead. One I knew this time. One that didn’t care who I was or what I’d done. He might have even joined me had I given him the chance. Now I never could. Another missed opportunity. Not my fault? I wanted to think so, but I never managed it.
I waited long after they were gone to limp outside, where a lack of scent and sound confirmed I was alone again. My heart stung, but I ignored it, for I had more pressing issues. I checked my cache for a meal, only to remember scraps being all that remained.
My injured leg twinged in pain, to which I gave a heavy sigh. I knew what this meant. I’d give it my best, but those scraps were all I would get before the end. As such, I decided to enjoy them. One last good thing before I starved to death. It helped fill the void inside too, if only a touch.
I returned to my den, contemplating my slow demise, whining at my injury as it complained about being disturbed. I settled against the back wall and cleaned the blood off of my leg until it had stopped bleeding again. It was all I could do really, since thinking about what it would feel like to starve churned my insides too much.
A howl echoed through the entrance, sending my ears straight up. This wasn’t just some random wolf howling outside. Whoever it was, they had stuck their head inside to make sure I’d heard them. It was the only way to explain how loud it was.
Since it held no malice, I allowed curiosity to push me outside to find this other wolf. When I poked my head out, I didn’t see anything except an empty forest and a hunk of moose laying in front of my den. What in Wolfor’s...
“You going to eat that or not?”
I followed the voice, and my heart went to war with itself. Estrella, that stubborn female, was back. I wanted to drive her off, remind her I didn’t want her. I wanted to nuzzle her, admit I cared, and enjoy the fact that she was there at all. I wanted to just take the meat and retreat back inside without word or acknowledgement.
Instead, I found the only question that somewhat satisfied all three.
“What are you doing here?”
Estrella proudly trotted up and sat on the other side of the meat. “Doing what you can’t. I saw you fight that two-legged.”
“Human.”
“Whatever. I saw what you did, and what it cost you. Thank you, Luna. I never knew he was there.”
I tried to keep my ears up, but they turned back anyway. “I... I just didn’t want them to get another wolf.”
Estrella glared at me with a gentle growl. “You’re pretty determined to be a thorn-in-the-paw, aren’t you? Well, I don’t care. I’m going to take care of you, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”
I sighed with another growl. I knew her so little, yet I already knew that look. She was going to have her way, and no one, not even Wolfor, was going to stop her. Might as well find a way to enjoy it while it’s there.
"Fine,” I said. “Just try not to get too annoying, all right? I've been alone for three years, and I am not in a mood to have company for the rest of my life.”
“Things change. I can wait.”
Knowing her, she’d wait till the end of time too. I retreated back inside my den to find sleep after such a trying day. Estrella followed me in, food in mouth with a glare. My ears fell in case she decided to add fang to her reprimand.
“Sorry,” I said. “Where did you get that anyway? Don’t tell me you managed a kill on your own.”
Estrella put the meat in front of me, then settled in beside me with a quick rub against my cheek. “I have my ways. Today it involved returning to your kill, and picking off what I could. The ravens hadn’t found it yet, though an old wolf did. Almost had to fight him for it.”
“This old wolf give a name?”
“No, but he kept calling himself ‘old and wise,’ like somehow that was his name.”
My first bite almost got stuck in my throat, forcing me to gag and work to get it past the lump growing there. It couldn’t be.
“This wolf. Did he have a lot of scars, with fur that was dark gray, with brown on his ears, back, and tail?”
Estrella tilted her head at me, and I didn’t move. I didn’t dare hope, even as my heart did with every strand of fur. Estrella looked up for a while, as if the answer was on the walls of the den.
“Now that you mention it,” she said, “I think he did. Why? Do you... Luna? What’s wrong?”
Nothing, nothing at all. I had closed my eyes as joyful pain took hold. That stubborn old wolf. Should have known he wouldn’t die that easy. It had to have been his pup I saw, not him. I took deep breath after deep breath, trying to tell myself this was not joy I was feeling. That Carlin’s survival meant nothing to me.
I got the edge of a laugh instead. I didn’t even know why. I only knew quick bursts of panted amusement broke through, making it seem like I couldn’t breathe, which in some ways, I couldn’t.
“Luna! What’s wrong?”
I ruffed in amusement again before returning the rub Estrella had given me earlier. “Nothing. I do know that wolf. In fact, just today, he saved my life. I thought it’d cost him his.”
“And you weren’t going to tell me, were you?”
“Nope.”
Estrella turned her ears back, then growled, then sighed. “Luna, you are going to drive me out of my mind.”
Now where have I heard that before? “You don’t have to stay, you know. Living alone isn’t so bad.”
“You won’t get rid of me that easy. Like it or not, I’m here, and I am not going away.”
This much I knew without her saying so. A part of me even liked the idea, but it was overpowered by the years of pain. I had gotten used to living alone, even found a way to enjoy it. Now I had this crazy female who I’d never get rid of. Not until I healed anyway.
Except, just as I finished what I could of the meat, Estrella leaned against me. She fell asleep almost the moment she did, and I couldn’t find a reason to move. I just watched her look so content, so peaceful, as if she trusted me to defend her from the world. I felt her fur against mine, the warmth of her presence, and her confidence, seeping through. Just her being there made all the thoughts I had in my head seem ridiculous.
The pine cone returned, only for it to melt when I inched my head down against hers. When our ears touched, she leaned into me again. I returned it, failing to convince myself I didn’t feel anything. My second opportunity had given me a second chance. My third was still out there, perhaps waiting to do the same.
I barely felt my injury that night. Estrella’s fur kept it hidden, almost as if it could help heal it. Try as I might, I couldn’t lie to myself.
For the first time I could remember, I wasn’t even sure I wanted to anymore.