7.
The First Hunt
An eerie howl cut through the still blackness of the night. It swept across the fields, resonating and rippling across the swaying grasses like invisible water. And in her soft grass nest, Palva awoke with a start.
She leaped to her paws. The fur on her neck was bristling, and her eyes scanned the shadows of her hollow for enemies, but after a few seconds she came to her senses. It was not an attack; Alpha Liyra was calling for a meeting. She would recognize that howl anywhere, of course; she had to. But why at this hour?
A few other howls split the air again, responding to the alpha’s summon. Palva raised her head and threw up a cry of her own before dashing up her grass tunnel as fast as her three legs would carry her. Whatever it was, it must be urgent if Liyra was calling a meeting in the dead of night.
Palva quickened her pace as she sensed the night-quiet redoubt ahead. She hurtled out of the tunnel and ran straight into a shadowy shape as it emerged from a den among the heaps of boulders, causing it to yelp in terror.
“Oh!—oh, sorry Raatri. I didn’t see you there.”
The rather tousled, sleepy-looking black wolf picked himself up from the damp ground. It was plain that he had just awakened, though he had no reason to attend Liyra’s meeting as he wasn’t in the Council. He turned his head up to Palva, the fright in his yellow, half-open eyes fading as he recognized the Gatherer.
“Palva, it’s you,” he said, sounding relieved. “That scared me; I didn’t see you. Never know, you know, new territory –and it’s night. I heard someone howl, what’s going on?”
“Council meeting,” Palva gasped, starting to sprint away again. “I have to hurry or I’ll be late. Watch Tir, wouldn’t you?”
Without waiting for the confused Raatri’s reply, she continued to race towards the center of the redoubt. There, she stopped, searching the dark clearing for Alpha Liyra and the rest of the Council. She soon spotted them, a small huddle of four wolves in one of the redoubt’s shadowy corners.
“Palva! Glad you heard my call,” Liyra said, beaming as Palva padded up to the group. “So very sorry about the late hour, but Captain Leron has just returned from his full patrol of the new territory. I thought it would be appropriate for the Council to hear his report as soon as possible, you know.”
Palva surveyed the shadowed faces around her. Sirle and Simetra, the chief Sentinel and Hunter, looked alert and awake. Captain Leron stood in front of them, his head raised and tilted to the side as though he was preparing to speak. He turned his glittering grey-eyed stare onto Palva, and she met it with loathing.
“How kind of the Gatherer to join us,” he said for them all to hear, smiling at her. “We were all waiting in the dark for you to arrive. I suppose we can begin, now that you have come.”
Palva hissed something derisive in return before padding over to sit beside Simetra, who seemed impatient for the report.
“Yes, Captain Leron, you are right,” Liyra said, striding forward to address the other three wolves in front of her and Leron. “We cannot begin until the full council is present, as this is a very important report that you all must hear.”
“And we all are present, thank you. There are only five of us, after all,” Simetra growled, swishing her reddish-brown tail with impatience. “Now may we begin? I wish to lead a dawn hunt.”
“Oh—yes,” said Liyra, looking flustered. “Yes, of course. Captain?” she swept her tail towards Leron, inviting him to give the report on the territory.
Leron stepped forward, regarding the small audience appraisingly. He dipped his head to them in respect, a gesture none of them returned save for Liyra. Undaunted, Leron offered them all a pleasant smile.
“This land,” he began in a loud and important voice, drawing his flinty stare along the wolves of the Council. “…stretches to two side barriers, one of which is this stone wall, as you have all noticed.”
Everyone turned and glanced at the crumbling, towering face of the cliff behind them for a brief moment. Above it, far in the distance, hung a thick, hovering blanket of black smoke—the remnants of a forest fire, the fire from which Tir had fallen. Palva’s eyes were fixed on it, mesmerized, and she looked away with reluctance as the others turned their attention back to Leron.
“On other side, it is blocked by a river,” he continued. “The river curves inward, slicing the plains about in half. It is fast and deep, and as far as I saw, there is no safe way to cross it—unless we wish to retrace our steps back into the marsh—so I suppose we will have to accept it as a boundary.
“At some point, the river branches off into a smaller stream. This stream flows into a large lake in the center of the fields. This stream also contains a great number of well-sized fish. We could eat them, if we could find a way to catch—”
Liyra glanced at Simetra, who was listening with ears pricked forward. “Adapt,” Liyra said, cutting Leron off. “Find a way to catch these water-creatures; they may be an invaluable source of food during hard years. That is a job for the chief Hunter.”
“Right you are, Alpha,” Simetra said, straightening herself.
Liyra nodded in approval, and waved her tail for Leron to continue with his account. The captain’s fixed smile had wavered at the interruption, but he gathered himself quickly.
“The chief Hunter shall be busy, then,” he said in a quieter voice, acknowledging the stony-faced Simetra with a small nod. “For a large herd of deer has taken grazing land along the banks of this lake. I know,” he said, before Liyra could interrupt. “…that it has been long since any wolf in this pack has hunted deer. But even one of the creatures could feed the whole pack. For these deer are far larger than most—a different species, perhaps. We are in northern lands, are we not? If we can learn how to fish, then why not learn how to hunt deer? It is how things once were—it would be good for us all to return to the old ways.”
He was obviously pleased with his idea. Liyra and Simetra looked thoughtful, though Sirle appeared to be in a state of boredom. Palva remembered what deer were, and she knew that many wolves hunted deer; their pack had hunted the beasts in the past. But for some reason—she couldn’t quite pin it down—she had a bad feeling about Leron’s plan.
“No,” she said. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Leron blinked at her, his expression unchanged. “And why not?”
“It just sounds like a bad idea. We have enough prey as it is; why go for more?”
“Not afraid of them, are you, Gatherer?” he teased. His grey eyes gleamed. “Oh, they are only mild plant-eaters. They have no fangs or claws—”
“Of course I’m not afraid of them. But they do have hooves and antlers, you fool. We have not hunted them in a long time, and our wolves are yet too weary for large prey. After all, you said that they are larger than most, so wouldn’t that make them more dangerous than most? What if a wolf gets injured? Or killed?”
“Do you believe that I would allow—”
“That is enough,” Liyra cut in, “We do not need arguing in the Council. What we still need now is your report, Captain Leron. Please finish.”
Palva and Leron continued to hold each others’ stares—Palva her pale glower, Leron his bland smile—until Simetra again grew impatient.
“And the other boundary?” she prompted.
Leron withdrew his gaze and straightened himself.
“The cliff extends far along the horizon; turning and making another boundary straight back. I did not follow it; there was not time. But it seems that we are in some kind of half-valley. One way out is the marsh, the one we came through. The other way, straight across the fields from the turned edge of the cliff, would take us through a forest.”
Sirle twitched, and Simetra gave a pleased growl. Liyra, too, looked very interested.
“A forest?” she asked. “Like our old home? Before everything? A real forest?”
“A real forest,” Leron affirmed, pleased by their reactions. “W
ith trees and everything.”
Liyra glanced around at the others, as though to make sure they had heard. “A forest!” she exclaimed, now with obvious delight. “Just like where we used to live! Did you look into it, Captain?”
“Of course I did,” he said, and Liyra beamed at him. “A bit of it, at least. I didn’t explore properly, as there wasn’t enough time. But I did learn some very important information.” He paused, eyes glinting with dark excitement as though to hold the Council members in his suspense. “The forest is already occupied by a renegade. A territorial renegade.”
Liyra looked uneasy. She shifted, her eyes darting around the Council wolves as though hoping one of them would speak. Captain Leron said nothing more; his eyes gleamed at the effect his announcement had made.
“Well, we don’t want to cause any unnecessary trouble,” Liyra said. “Does this wolf live only in the forest?”
“I cannot be sure. But I did not catch any scent of him as I was scouting the fields. I suppose it is a safe guess to say he has only claimed the forest as his territory, though it is not wise to make such assumptions. We must remain on guard.”
“Did you speak to this strange wolf?” Liyra shot a sideways glance at Palva, who glared back in defiance.
“Of course I didn’t,” Leron replied, also looking at Palva. “That would be a very stupid thing to do. I only saw him from a distance, standing near the edge of the forest. All I know is that his pelt appears white, though he may have darker markings I do not know of.”
“Do you think he might cause us trouble? Renegades can be violent, and very protective of their territory.”
The others had no answer to this, but Leron spoke up without hesitance.
“No renegade would dare attack a whole pack at once. He may be a danger to lone patrollers, though. Just to be safe, I’m sure we will drive him out of the forest without a problem.”
“No, we won’t” Liyra said, regaining her sharpness. “It is not wise to stir up trouble, and we do not need the forest. The fields are large enough for our pack, at any rate. We shall do our best to stay out of this renegade’s way. But if he poses as an overt threat to us, then we may have no choice.”
Leron had looked unnaturally eager at the prospect of driving out the renegade, and Palva guessed that he had already been forming a plan of attack. Leron hated strangers with a passion beyond her understanding. She had watched his eyes darken just the slightest when Alpha Liyra had dashed this idea, and it showed in his voice when he spoke.
“But aren’t all strange wolves a potential threat?” he asked, still staring at Palva.
“Not necessarily,” Liyra said. “There is a possibility that this renegade may not want trouble any more than we do.”
Leron turned away, muttering something under his breath. Palva knew that he had wanted trouble very much; Leron thrived on disaster. She knew about his former pack, the small band of four other wolves he had led before he joined with Liyra—they had been harsh and hungry wolves, ones accustomed to fighting for every scrap of survival. An easier life had been unnatural to Leron, who was toughened by seasons of minor battles. He wanted discord. He wanted to fight.
Sensing the end of the meeting, the members of the Council began to rise. Palva, too, stood up and yawned. It would be good to get back to her den. Tomorrow, she should go in search of more herbs. She needed to know the places where certain kinds could be found. Of course, Captain Leron would have never paid attention to anything like that on his patrol. But his information was valuable, nonetheless.
As Palva was padding away, lost in her sleepy thoughts, Liyra rushed up to meet her.
“Who is guarding the outsider?” she whispered.
Palva flicked her tail and inclined her head in the direction of her hollow. “Raatri. I met him as I was coming up to the redoubt, and told him—”
“Palva!”
She was cut short as a small streak of black fur dashed out of the grass tunnel that led down to her hollow.
“Oh, Palva I’m sorry!” Raatri moaned, and collapsed in front of them. “I’m so sorry!” he sobbed. “I didn’t know—I didn’t mean… Xelind came down to the hollow and he—he said he was to guard him! I left for a second and got afraid and came back and—Oh! Palva! I’m so sorry!”
Palva’s breath died in her throat. Without a word, she brushed past Liyra and Raatri and flew down the tunnel as fast as she could. Raatri’s wretched cries faded as she grew closer to her hollow. Then there was silence. No crickets, no sound of sleepy breathing, not even the grass moved. Something was wrong.
Palva burst out of the grass and into the hollow.
Tir was gone.