“The wolves think!” TaLi said. “They talk. We just don’t understand them.”
A few of the humans laughed at her. HesMi frowned at the girl. “You’ve had your chance to speak,” she said. TaLi looked rebellious, but stayed silent. DavRian had said something similar about humans and their tools back in the Wide Valley. It unnerved me to hear the same belief here.
“I’ve finished,” IniMin said. “And I admire young TaLi’s passion.” He, too, stepped down from the rock, an insincere smile stretching his face.
He was so condescending, I wanted to bite him. And I couldn’t believe that he thought that humans were supposed to control every beast in the land. He sounded like a Greatwolf!
HesMi nodded to TaLi.
“I met NiaLi when I was not much older than you. You look like her, and you have her grace. I am pleased to welcome you as RalZun’s candidate for krianan.”
“Thank you,” TaLi said formally. “I would be honored to serve as your krianan.”
The human leader spoke more sharply to IniMin. “Do you know when your brother’s son will arrive?” she demanded.
“No,” he said respectfully. “I know that he is on his way.”
“He’s a good candidate, IniMin, but we won’t wait forever.”
“I don’t expect you to.” He smiled. “In the meantime, I look forward to seeing how useful these wolves really are.”
“IniMin’s nephew is his candidate for krianan,” HesMi said to TaLi. “He now lives in another village, but has spent many winters in Kaar, as did his father before him.”
A soft scrabbling drew my attention to the tartberry bushes at the far edge of the clearing. A wolf was lying flat on its belly, so that just its head and forepaws were visible as it peered into the village. It was much too small to be Milsindra or even Lallna, and at first I thought that Prannan or Amma had snuck into the village. Then I looked more closely. There was something wrong with the little wolf. Its head was too round and its muzzle too short. I tried to make eye contact with it to warn it away. Kaar was my territory now, and no strange wolf should trespass.
RalZun pulled on my ear. I yelped.
“Were you paying attention?”
“Yes.”
He glowered at me. Prannan’s name for him was apt. He was every bit as bossy as a raven.
Ázzuen pushed between me and the old human. “HesMi said that IniMin has to get his candidate here in three days, and then they’ll decide by their Spring Festival on Even Night who their next krianan will be,” he said.
I felt a surge of confidence. TaLi’s challenger wasn’t here yet. We had hunted with the humans, and HesMi liked TaLi. For the first time since we had left the valley, I believed we could succeed. We had a long way to go in a short time, but we had done well so far. Ignoring RalZun’s irritated huffing, I nosed Ázzuen’s muzzle and trotted toward TaLi.
“Let’s go,” I said, looking back at Ázzuen. We had work to do.
10
For the rest of that day and through the night, Ázzuen and I stayed at the edges of the human homesite, letting the humans grow accustomed to us. The next morning, we dared to slink close to their fires. None of them seemed to mind. Marra then joined us in the village, and when her presence didn’t make the humans nervous, Pell arrived, too, though he refused to come any closer than the very edge of the largest clearing. I waited for our next task, but the humans seemed in no hurry to have us prove ourselves. I bit back my impatience. Though Even Night was near, I didn’t want to frighten the humans by pushing them too hard. Finally, when our second day with the humans was half over, TaLi and MikLan came to find us. When Pell saw them, he slipped back into the woods.
“We’ve been invited to swim with some of the younger villagers,” TaLi said excitedly. “They want you to come, too. They said that hunting with you was the most fun they’ve had in moons!”
I panted a smile at her. Young humans always took to us more quickly than their elders. If we could get them to like us as much as TaLi, BreLan, and MikLan did, they could influence the others. TaLi galloped from the village. Ázzuen, Marra, and I followed.
The young humans cavorted in a stream a five-minute lope from Kaar. It was shallow enough that I didn’t have to worry about TaLi. The humans were all about the same age as TaLi and BreLan—near or just past adulthood—and they had the energy and sense of fun of youngwolves. My tail began to wag as our humans waded in to join them. A moment later, we splashed in, too. The water was cool and tasted of minnows. I could smell Pell’s willow and wind sage scent nearby and wondered if he was hiding in the bushes watching us.
The males wrestled like youngwolves seeking dominance, dunking one another under the water and splashing the females. TaLi, giggling, splashed them back. When one of them tossed an armful of water on me, I charged him, knocking him onto his rump. The other humans whooped in laughter as the male I’d knocked over tried to dunk me. I let him chase me around, stumbling in the knee-deep water. When I smelled him getting frustrated, I allowed him to catch me and push me over. He grinned and rubbed the fur between my ears. My chest warmed as it did when I lay side by side with TaLi.
I waded out of the stream to find Marra and Ázzuen soaking wet and being chased by a group of young humans. The humans all had huge smiles on their faces. I shook the water from my fur and lay down next to TaLi, basking in the afternoon sun.
“Can your wolves hunt anything besides elk?” a male asked TaLi, stretching out beside her.
“They can hunt everything,” she said. “We’ve hunted elkryn, horses, and aurochs with them.”
The other human grunted. Then a slow grin spread across his face.
“Do you have rock bears in the Spruce Valley?”
“Yes,” BreLan said.
“Grass lions?” the young human asked.
“Of course,” TaLi said, beginning to sound annoyed.
The young human’s grin widened. “Are you and your wolves afraid of them?”
When our humans just glared at him, the young human got to his feet.
“Come on,” he said.
TaLi and BreLan stood, and Ázzuen and I got to our paws. We all knew a dare when we heard one. MikLan was fast asleep, Marra at his side. She raised her head and yawned, then set her head on MikLan’s chest and began to snore.
I followed the humans from the stream, wondering what we were getting ourselves into.
The humans stopped in a copse of rough-trunked trees and dense bushes. I watched as they clustered together like a herd of prey, hiding under the cover of the thick brush. A pungent, meaty scent wafted from just beyond the trees. I knew I’d smelled it before, but couldn’t place it.
Whispering now, the humans pushed through the brush. Sharp thorns scratched their skin where they wore no preyskins and I pitied them their lack of fur. I wondered if the humans had long ago lost their fur and then learned to make clothing, or the other way around. I was so focused on my thoughts that it wasn’t until we were at the very edge of the plain that I saw them: an elk carcass, stripped almost bare, and three longfangs guarding it. I swallowed a yip of fear.
I’d never seen a live longfang before, and had only picked up their scent after they were long, long gone from a place. Now that I was closer to them, I understood how the scent of these living beasts became the strong taste of the fang TaLi wore around her neck as the symbol of her role as krianan.
The longfangs were more than twice the size of a grown wolf and had flat, light-colored fur that reminded me more of the pelt of prey than that of a hunter. Even from a distance, I could see the long, curved fangs that gave them their name. With these fangs, they could spear prey through the neck, sometimes causing it to bleed to death, sometimes crushing the air from its throat. A single longfang could take down an elkryn or an auroch. We never, ever competed with them for prey. Hyenas did, once the prey was dead, but they weren’t good at hunting on their own and, as much as I hated to admit it, they were better at stealing prey than we wer
e.
The humans were murmuring with fear and excitement.
“HesMi won’t let us fight them if they come after our kills,” a girl said, “even though we could win if we wanted to.”
I heard a chortle from above. Tlitoo peered down from a high branch.
“What would happen if one of your wolves fought one?” asked the male who had dunked me.
“I don’t want to find out,” TaLi said.
I looked from her to the other humans. Human groups were ruled by dominance just like any wolf pack, and with courage came status.
I turned my back to the humans and watched the longfangs. The three adults hunched over the carcass. The cubs, as they called their young, tugged at a piece of hide that still had thick strips of meat hanging from it. Each cub was trying to eat it, but whenever one got close to doing so, the other would snatch it away.
“I want that hide,” I said to Ázzuen. If I could steal it, I would impress the young humans. I expected Ázzuen to tell me it wasn’t safe, but mischief lit his eyes and his mouth opened in a grin.
“Let’s get it, then,” he said.
Two adult longfangs chased the third away from the carcass. She tried once to go back to it and they rushed at her, growling fiercely. One of them reared up on its haunches and swiped at her. The two cubs darted to her side.
The cubs were thin and lanky and about two-thirds the size of the adults. Longfangs grew more slowly than wolves did. It took them two years to reach adult size, which meant that the cubs were about our age, but only as mature as a pup four months out of the den. The longfang who had to be their mother looked down at them and then back at the dead elk. Slowly, she crawled on her belly toward the carcass where the other two longfangs continued to feed.
There was still quite a bit of meat on the bones. The cubs mewed and, though I didn’t speak their language, I knew it was a cry of hunger. Their mother tried to sneak in to get some of the carcass and the feeding longfangs growled at her. She backed off again. She lay down on her belly, staring at the other longfangs and the meat they guarded. The cubs watched her for a moment, then began their battle for the hide again. Ázzuen’s breathing quickened. He was watching the cubs as intently as the mother longfang was watching the carcass, and the tip of his tail twitched as it did before a hunt.
The cubs were energetic in spite of their hunger. They were bigger than we were, and, unlike prey, they had sharp fangs and teeth. It was too risky to just run out and grab the hide from them. I snuck a look at Ázzuen out of the corner of my eye, ashamed that I had to ask his advice yet again. If I wanted to be a leaderwolf, I should’ve been able to come up with my own ideas.
Ázzuen bent close to me to whisper in my ear. A slight crackling of the undergrowth was all the warning we had before a black shape darted from the bushes and a sharp beak grabbed Ázzuen’s tail.
Ázzuen yelped and the longfangs looked up from the plain. Tlitoo chuckled deep in his throat and stared at our noses. I covered mine protectively with my paws and saw that Ázzuen had done the same.
I snarled at Tlitoo. He chuckled again.
“You are so fearsome you will scare the beetles, wolf, with that snarl. I am here to help you. I will distract them and you will grab the hide. It will be fun. You have been too dour of late.
“Dark times need more play
And gloomy wolves are boring.
Thus the ravens come.
“Make them think you are playing,” he quorked. “That you are doing nothing. Then steal.”
“I could have told you that,” Ázzuen said.
“But you did not, wolf.”
“Because you bit me before I could!” Ázzuen protested, his voice rising. The longfang cubs looked in our direction.
“You should not be so loud, wolflet,” Tlitoo quorked, and flew to a rock in the middle of the plain. He set his beady gaze on the longfangs and began making low, growling noises, sounding exactly like a wolf. I hadn’t known he could do that. Every longfang on the plain, even the two at the carcass, were now looking at him.
Tlitoo was annoying, but he was right. A little trickery was in order. And Ázzuen was better at it than I was.
“You lead,” I said to him. He looked at me, a gleam of pleasure in his eyes. Then he licked the top of my head. Warmth rushed through me, and I had to blink to clear my vision as Ázzuen crawled forward on his belly. I noticed the smooth play of muscles under his fur. When he was younger, his lankiness made him awkward. Now it gave him a fluid grace as he slid through the grass, as sinewy as a lizard. He looked over his shoulder at me and I realized I was staring at him like an idiot. Flattening myself as low as I could, I followed him.
Ázzuen stayed on his belly until we were well onto the grass, then stood and began to trot around the perimeter of the plain. I followed.
“Silvermoon!” TaLi gasped behind me. “Kaala! Get back here.”
She started to follow, but BreLan held her back. The other humans whispered excitedly.
The mother longfang saw us immediately and lifted her head to stare, her gaze so piercing that I was tempted to stop in my tracks. But Ázzuen kept moving, so I did, too. We ran as if we were just exploring the plain, and the longfang went back to gazing at the carcass. As long as she didn’t see us as a threat, she would leave us be.
Both of the cubs now seemed more intent on winning their game than on actually getting any of the meat. They were snarling at each other and tussling over the hide, growling fiercely as if they were fighting in earnest, but I saw how their thin, vine-like tails whipped in circles. My own tail began to wave.
We trotted a few paces closer to the cubs. Intent on their game, they didn’t notice us. We dropped down on our bellies once again and began to creep forward, very slowly. When we got close enough that a quick run would bring us to them, Ázzuen whispered to me, “Go around to the other side and get their attention.”
I touched my nose to his muzzle. It seemed unfair to take advantage of their immaturity, but Tlitoo was right. It was fun. We weren’t going to hurt them.
I got behind the cubs and gave a soft whuff. Both cubs looked up, and one dropped his end of the hide. Ázzuen darted forward and grabbed it. The cub still holding on pulled with enough force to tear the hide from Ázzuen’s mouth. Ázzuen growled fiercely at her and she jumped back, pulling the hide with her and tumbling into her brother. I growled, too, and the cubs flattened their ears and snarled at me. Ázzuen trotted away, then circled back behind the cubs while they were watching me. I ran in, butting the rump of the empty-mouthed cub with my head. He yowled and swiped at me, and I stumbled backward. I had forgotten about their sharp, deadly claws. I smelled the cub’s fear, and bent my forelegs and raised my rump to show him I was playing. He watched me closely and retracted his claws.
“Ours,” he growled. But it was a playful growl. He said something I couldn’t understand to his sister, who still held the hide in her jaws. The two of them took off across the plain—right into Ázzuen. I pounced on them from behind.
We scuffled and rolled in the dirt and, for a moment, it was like playing with Ázzuen and Marra and our humans. The cubs were stronger than we were, but clumsier. I twisted under and around them, avoiding swats from their large paws. I scrambled to my feet and whuffed encouragement at the cub closest to me.
Then a mountain of muscle and fur hit me from behind. The mother longfang pinned me with one great paw. Ázzuen threw himself at her and she knocked him aside with her head. The two cubs immediately began wrestling with him, keeping him from getting to me. The longfang opened her great jaws and bent her head down to my exposed throat.
She had golden eyes that held a sad, weary expression. I couldn’t look at them long, not with those fangs so close to my face.
“Pups,” she grumbled, her voice low and raspy. “Stupid little pups. Go back to your pack. We have no time for games.” She pressed her paw down on my chest and extended her long claws. I lowered my ears to her and she grunted and retracted
her claws. I lay there for a moment, caught in her amber gaze. There was a sorrow I had not seen since my pack learned that Yllin, one of Swift River’s youngwolves, had been killed by Greatwolves. “Go, pup,” she said, stepping off me. “Play somewhere else.”
She snarled something at her own young. When they looked up at her, I heaved myself up, grabbed the hide in my jaws, and ran. Ázzuen darted under the longfang mother’s belly, making her stumble. We raced back to the woods.
TaLi and MikLan were running toward us, spears raised. When they saw we were safe, they skidded to a halt. Pell bolted past them. The expression of fear on his face made me stumble and trip over the hide, and Ázzuen crashed into me from behind. We scrambled to our paws and ran. Only when Pell, TaLi, and MikLan had all reached the safety of the woods did I look back at the longfangs.
The mother, her head lowered between her shoulders, led her pups in the other direction, away from us and from where the other longfangs had dragged the carcass. There was such heaviness in her tread that I began to feel a little sorry that we had stolen from her.
“Are you all right?” Pell demanded, sniffing me all over.
Ázzuen pushed between us. “We’re both fine. Thanks for asking.”
TaLi sank to her knees and threw her arms around me.
“Don’t ever do that again, Kaala,” she said.
“You either,” BreLan said to Ázzuen. His voice was so stern I looked up. I hadn’t realized how worried for us our humans would be.
I gave the hide to TaLi, nudging her toward the other young humans. She tossed it to a young male, who snatched it out of the air, grinned at me, and took off at a run toward the village, whooping and waving the hide above his head.
The other humans bolted after him. Pell, after checking me over anxiously one more time, slipped back into the woods to follow at a distance. Ázzuen and I ran with our humans most of the way back to Kaar, but as we neared the village, I grew impatient with their slow pace.
Spirit of the Wolves Page 9
