Luna the Lone Wolf

by Forest Wells

  Those feelings changed when I caught wind of other wolves. I heard them approach, then I saw them. My former pack, with Toltan at the lead as usual, walking straight toward me. Either they didn’t see me or didn’t care. I started growling before they ever got close. There hadn’t been any markers. This was free territory. That meant the foal was my kill. My growl grew the closer they got. My hackles rose at the same pace, with my ears straight and forward without a hint of fear. You won’t take this from me. Not after what you did.

  Despite my age, my snarl echoed off the trees by the time they reached me. I noticed the younger litter behind Toltan, no doubt on their first hunt. For a moment, I couldn’t help remembering the thrill of my first time. Back then, I didn’t care as much about proving myself. Just being out on a hunt, with him, was enough. Getting the chance to go after a rabbit had only made it that much better.

  The memory touched on Toltan’s voice at the time. I remembered him telling me to dig, and how it excited me. It would have been my first kill, if only had Rajor had made an effort to catch it.

  All at once, I felt my insides burn as I remembered what he did to me. How he had betrayed that memory. It caused my snarl to grow when Toltan stepped forward to match my challenge. I barked and snapped at him, and Toltan returned the challenge with equal volume, though somehow, his hackles didn’t seem as straight.

  I stood over the dead foal without the slightest hesitation. “This is my kill. You’ll not touch it. I’ll fight you with all I have should you try.”

  Toltan stared me down, and I raised my tail. Deep down, I knew I couldn’t win a fight, but that thought was buried under the anger. Not to mention the sense that, in the end, I had nothing left to lose. At worst, Toltan would kill me, which losing the kill might bring about anyway. If I was going to die, might as well die fighting instead of starving to death.

  Toltan kept his tail raised while the pack watched with nervous glances between us. Lonate, of course, stood with the pups as he always did. He does his job well that one.

  Our stalemate echoed off the trees for what felt like days, neither one of us relenting. That is, until a yip from the pups drew Toltan’s ear. Lonate had stopped one from wandering off the way he sometimes had to: with his fangs. While he’d stopped the pup, he’d also brought an end to the battle.

  Toltan’s snarl didn’t fade, but he did step back. “I’ll not risk my pups today. I’ve lost too many this year. Keep from our boundaries, Luna.”

  “And you from mine,” I snarled.

  While Toltan tried to enter his death stance, he never achieved the same rigidity he’d always held. Eventually, he led his pack away without a word.

  I waited until they were out of sight to finish what I could of my kill. My stomach enjoyed every bite until it finally admitted it had no more room. The rest would be raven food by nightfall, but at least I’d gotten the best parts. Even so, there might be enough scraps later to keep me strong while I found other meals.

  Now full, and far less terrified, I set about claiming my piece of the forest. I went right up to Toltan’s latest marker, and left a few of my own droppings on my side of the border. A step I repeated more than once in the hopes that I might keep more of what I suspected would be prime hunting grounds.

  It was after lifting my leg at another tree that my nose found something else. A dirty, icky scent like charred wood, yet musty scents followed. The latter I recognized from that first day of my exile. The day I saw the power of the two-leggeds. A part of me wanted to run, return to the whelp I became that night. The stronger side wanted to find them. If nothing else, to determine what threat they posed.

  I moved forward, ears and eyes searching for them. After watching what they could do to a mountain lion, I couldn’t afford to get careless. I moved in careful spurts, not advancing too far before I felt sure I had a clear path. My legs and paws were quick and careful, moving so smoothly I barely felt them. I wanted to find the two-leggeds, but I wanted to do so without being seen.

  I found other wolves first. It appeared to be a small pack, no more than seven adult members. Probably split off, or the first litter of a mated pair, looking for a home of their own. They moved just as carefully, the wind blowing my scent away, keeping my presence hidden.

  Not that they would have cared had they known. They, like me, had turned their ears toward a group of two-leggeds. My position allowed me to see them as well. They were moving through the foliage more carefully this time, though still not silent. The closer they got, more of the pack turned toward them, save for a single pup who cowered by the legs of his mother.

  The two-leggeds settled by the trees while the wolves began to slink back toward the forest. The two-leggeds leveled their sticks, just like that first day. Oh no.

  CRAACK-AK-AK CSHOO-SHOO shoo-shoo shoo

  CRAACK CSH-CRAACK CSHOO shoo-shoo

  Three wolves fell dead at once. Two more collapsed as well, whining agony for no apparent reason. Blood gushed from wounds born of nothing, as the two remaining wolves looked around confused. I stood frozen, horrified at the sight I couldn’t pry myself away from. The pup ran toward me, with one of the adults following, trying to keep him with the pack.

  CRAACK-CRAACK CSHOOSHOO shooshoo-shoo

  The remaining wolves fell. One dead, the other whining so much she probably wished she were. The survivors tried to crawl away, but their wounds were too great. The two-leggeds advanced, stepping right up to the injured wolves. When they leveled their sticks, my ears flattened to reduce the noise.

  CRAACK-AK-AK CSHOOSHOO shooshoo shoo

  The pack lay dead. Decimated by the magic these two-legged things carried in their paws. No wonder they had no claws. Smooth sticks of thunder were all they needed to kill. I kept to the shadows, praying I’d go unnoticed. Their noses were tiny, so with the wind holding its direction, I had a good chance of staying hidden.

  The two-leggeds barked excitedly as they examined their kills. The barking often grew right after one examined a wound in one of the wolves. After some time of this, the two-leggeds hung their sticks on their backs, then dragged the dead pack away by their paws. I watched them go long after I could no longer see them, to be sure they were truly gone.

  I yipped in surprise when a bundle of dark brown-gray-silver fur plunged into my legs. I tumbled onto it, drawing much of the same from my attacker. My yip turned to a growl until I saw the attacker was the pack’s pup.

  He was even smaller up close. Either a runt or somehow younger than the second litter from my former pack. His fur was still one-half puppy-brown, the other half a coat of pure ash I felt certain would grow to dominate his pelt. The pup laid there, whimpering, shaking like a leaf in a windstorm. His ears were so flat, I could barely see them.

  My insides sank when I remembered how I’d felt the first time I’d been around the two-leggeds’ thunder sticks. And I’d only been a witness. This poor pup had been among them, watching his entire pack get wiped out. I could only imagine what he felt.

  I shook off the pain of our collision before slowly stepping up to him. The pup stared at me as if I might attack him next but remained still.

  I rubbed my muzzle against the pup’s as softly as I could. “Hush. Hush. You’re safe now.”

  His shaking faded until it stopped, though his ears never moved. “My... My... My moth... My... My mother...”

  “Hush. I’m afraid they’re all dead.”

  “C... Com... come back?... Those... things... they come...”

  “No. No, they got what they wanted. They don’t seem to care about us. Come with me. I’ll keep you safe.”

  It took some coaxing to get the pup moving. Even then, he jumped at every sound. He nearly vanished entirely when the mockingbird flew over his head.

  “Pup and pup still facing stuff. Pup and pup shall—”

  My jaws snapped at the bird before he could finish. “Shut it, you! He just lost his pack. Even you have to understand some part of that. So if I hear one wor
d, one tweet more, it’ll be your last.”

  The bird landed on a low branch and sat there, silent. He watched us walk without so much as a flick of his tail. Not sure which part worked, but I’m glad it did.

  I led the pup to my den, and let him settle in beside me. Poor thing tried for hours to regain his breath, half of it from tears he couldn’t seem to shed. Time slowly peeled away his fear until all he had were the tears still building behind his eyes. I stayed with him, unable to provide anything besides a larger wolf to lay against.

  At last, with wet eyes, the pup looked at me. “Are you sure? Are you sure they’re dead? All of them?”

  My ears fell in pain. “Yes. The two-legged creatures killed them. You’re the last of your pack.”

  Tears began to flow at last. “No. No, they can’t be. They... they...”

  He sobbed into my flank, and all I could offer was a comforting rub on his head. My mind tried to wander, to consider what we now shared. It never got beyond the raw facts. We were alone, no pack, no one but ourselves now. The points came without emotion, not counting the sympathy I felt for the pup. It was as if some other voice were trying to tell me something, but it couldn’t figure out how, or even what exactly.

  I let him cry for as long as he needed. While he did, I tried to find that voice in my head, only to have it go silent. There was still a sense that it had something to tell me, but with it gone, all I could do was let the pup tire himself out. When he finally stopped crying, the sunlight in the entrance had grown a lot dimmer.

  Much like the pup’s eyes as they found me again. “Yours too?”

  I tried very hard not to growl at him. It wasn’t his fault. He couldn’t know about the thorn his words were driving into my heart. Though it brought up an interesting question: which was worse? Losing them like he had, or being driven from them over a lie?

  I kept my growl silent, but I could do nothing about the thorn.

  “No,” I said. “Something very different.”

  “Different how? What happened?”

  “It’s too complicated. Just know that, like you, I’m alone.”

  A tweet sounded at the entrance. “Lu-na.”

  I thought I got rid of that bird. That said, the bird had yet to say a single word before, even if it was sung in two syllables. It still didn’t keep a soft growl from forming.

  “Luna?” the pup asked.

  I stopped growling for the sake of the pup. “My name. Luna is my name.”

  “Folar is mine. Thank you, Luna, for... for being with me.”

  Folar rubbed against me, and another thorn stabbed into my heart. The shadow of the mockingbird appeared at the entrance, and I knew I had to deal with him, again.

  “Excuse me, Folar. I need to see what that bird wants. I won’t be far.”

  I slid into the entrance, feeling the weight of Folar’s stare. I tried to ignore it as I went outside and stood over the bird. He didn’t leave, and for some reason I could never find, I had no urge to eat him.

  That said, my hackles refused to stay flat. “Now what?”

  The bird seemed to struggle to speak at first. In the end, it came out a song, but heavier than any song I had ever heard before. “Pup no stay, pup won’t live, a fighting chance, you cannot give. Must run and hunt and live with kind. Home and den and love, he not here find.”

  I tilted my head at the bird, then glanced back inside the den at Folar. “Just what are you saying?”

  “You know, you know, the pup must go.”

  “Go? Go where? His pack is dead. The only established pack is... You can’t be serious.”

  “Must run and hunt and live with kind. Home and den and love, he not here find.”

  I had to swallow a dozen pinecones as I looked toward Toltan’s territory. “Do you have any idea what you’re asking?”

  “I do, I do.”

  A cold wind, and the bird fluttered away without a sound.

  I watched him go with falling ears, and I felt another pinecone lodge in my throat. Even if I ignored the risk of going back to my former pack, I had an opportunity to change my fate. Folar was so young, he might not have heard the law. Even if he had, it may not matter. He was already drawn to me. He might choose to ignore my sentence and stay with me anyway. We could do it too. The two of us could form our own little pack. We could make a life for ourselves. Maybe with a little luck, we could do even more.

  The pinecones pricked at my heart, forcing me to cringe. The mockingbird was right. For all my talk before, I was still a pup myself. Folar had yet to catch a mouse, much less help me with deer. I would have to support us both, which given my age, was almost certain to get us both killed. I couldn’t condemn Folar to such a death, no matter how much I wanted the company. So that’s why this is so bad.

  “Folar,” I called into the den. “Folar, come with me.”

  Folar came out cautious, but unafraid. “What is it, Luna?”

  More pinecones. Tell me this gets easier. “Just, follow. Follow close, and no matter what, do as I say.”

  Folar’s ears fell, but his eyes remained on me. “Okay.”

  Folar pressed me for more details, but I never responded except to keep him moving. Each step grew harder because my mind couldn’t stop thinking about it. I don’t have to do this. I could feed us both until he grew enough. I don’t have to be alone. The words were hollow. It had to be done, if only for Folar’s sake. The best I could do was keep moving in the hopes of ending it quickly.

  I timed a response so Folar missed Toltan’s marker as we passed it. My howls would be ignored, so if I wanted to get Folar to the pack, I would have to be more proactive. We walked on in silence, approaching the hillside above the dens. As we got closer, I told Folar to stay low. A stance I copied in the hope of appearing submissive. Folar had no trouble there, as his ears were as flat as they could be. Mine would have been as well, except they needed to search the area for any members of the pack. If the reunion went wrong, I’d be meeting Wolfor before nightfall.

  Yet luck was on my side, or perhaps on some level I’d had a plan. In any case, as he’d been since the first day of thunder, Lonate was sitting atop the hillside, watching the forest for who-knows-what. It was a chance to lessen the risk. I knew Lonate wouldn’t kill me on sight. With more luck, I could leave Folar with him and be gone before anyone knew I was there.

  I moved toward Lonate, smooth but cautious, ready to run in case I was wrong. Lonate sat alone like always, a stone sentry almost unmoving against the setting sun. That is, until his eyes and ears locked onto me and Folar. I froze with flat ears while Folar cowered under my legs. Lonate turned an ear back, turned back toward us, then he sprinted toward us without a sound.

  “Folar,” I said, “get ready, but don’t run unless I say so.”

  “What’s going on?” Folar said.

  “Just sit tight and listen.”

  Folar hugged the ground as if he might melt into it. If only we could. I’d felt Lonate’s fangs enough to know I’d never beat them. My best option was to flatten my ears, tuck my tail, and pray it was enough.

  Despite Lonate’s sprint, fangs never came. Nor did a growl, or a bark, or any sign of intent. Just a rush forward that stopped cold right in front of me.

  “Get out of here, Luna,” Lonate whispered. “Now! Go!”

  I held my stance, trying to convince my body there was no pain. “Not until I’m finished.” I rubbed my muzzle against Folar’s, who was shaking as much as my body wanted to. “Come on. Out with you.”

  Folar emerged, though slower than a snail. Lonate watched with perked ears as this tiny wolf stared at him. Lonate tilted his head at the pup, then at me.

  “Finished?” Lonate said. “What are you talking about?”

  My ears and tail started to relax. “I’m bringing him to you, so he may...”

  Snarls sent me and Folar to the ground. Toltan had found us, and unlike Lonate, his fangs were fully exposed as he charged our way. My instincts warred with tho
ught. Every strand of fur said run! but I couldn’t until I was sure Folar was safe.

  Truth be told, I was too scared to move anyway. All I could think about was what it would feel like to be torn apart by my father. As for Folar, for all I could see, the young pup had turned to stone beside me.

  Only Lonate moved, directly into Toltan’s path.

  “Toltan, wait! Please!”

  Toltan didn’t stop. Not until it became clear that Lonate wouldn’t step aside. Though his position said challenge, his flat ears and tucked tail said otherwise.

  Toltan still shook everyone’s ribs when he spoke. “You know the law, Lonate. Any lone wolf that returns shall face the alpha’s fangs.”

  “Even a lone wolf that’s trying to help?”

  Confusion silenced Toltan’s snarl, though not his glare. “What do you mean, help?”

  Lonate stared at me. I took it as my chance to explain.

  “This pup is the last of his pack. They—”

  Toltan snarled again. “What does that have to do with you?”

  Ignoring me again, Father? I’ll show you how smart you’re not.

  I stood tall, anger burying all fear beneath its burn. My ears came up, and my tail relaxed behind me. It was just shy of a direct challenge, though my glare came closer than anything.

  “I am his escort. I am making sure he gets to you alive. Folar—that’s his name, if you care—has done no wrong, committed no crime. He deserves the chance to live with a strong pack. Yours is the only one I know will take him. You said it yourself: pups are a gift from Wolfor. Will you really kill me while I’m trying to deliver a gift from Wolfor?”

  Toltan’s growl returned as the pack watched in the distance.

  “Luna?” Folar said, silencing Toltan again. “Luna, what’s going on?”

  My anger at Toltan caused me to be far less gentle this time. “You’re going to live and run with them. Don’t worry. They’re a good pack... mostly.”

  “But what about you?”

  “Me? I was banished. They don’t care about me anymore.”