***
“How many of you are there?”
That was the first question Alanki asked when she prowled into the pine grove from which the answering howl had come. It was a dark and shady area—even darker than the rest of her forest—and very damp as well; the soft, slick mud squished under her paws as she walked. She had been correct. There was a new pack of wolves settled in her forest. Where had they come from? What did they want? Were they allies of the enemy pack?
No one answered. Alanki guessed that this pack was close to the same size of the one she had just escaped from—perhaps a bit smaller. But the first thing she noticed was that they all appeared to be in terrible condition. Every single one of them was scrawny and starved, ribs jutting out from their thin pelts. Many were bleeding in various places, the bright streams of blood seeping through the mud and dust that caked their fur. It was clear that they had been traveling for a long time. Who were they?
Another thing that struck Alanki as strange was the fact that none of the wolves had any hostile reaction to her being there. They stared at her with a mild, dull curiosity, as though she was an interestingly-shaped tree or bush. She wondered if they had even heard her question.
“Where is your alpha?” she demanded in a louder voice. “Which one of you is the alpha here?”
Again, no reaction. A few of the bedraggled wolves turned and limped into their makeshift dens amongst the bushes. At the same time, several wolves emerged into the clearing, staring at her with blank eyes. Alanki would have growled at them with frustration, but she was too stunned by their strange behavior to speak again.
“YOU!”
Alanki jumped at the sound. She whipped around to see a ragged-looking tawny she-wolf stagger out from a hole in the undergrowth, her eyes huge.
“YOU!” the old she-wolf shrieked again, almost tripping over her paws with a frenzied excitement. “HOW DARE YOU RETURN HERE! HOW DARE—HOW DARE YOU COME TO CLAIM ME NOW, IN THIS STATE!”
Alanki bristled and took a few steps backwards from the mad, gibbering old wolf, whose glassy eyes seemed far too wide and round to be natural; the she-wolf’s voice rang with conflicting tones of indignant rage and wild joy, but her eyes were totally hollow of emotion.
“What are—”
“AS IF I DIDN’T SAY THE PROPER PRAYERS! AS IF I DIDN’T ENDANGER MYSELF TO…TO…HOW DARE YOU!”
She sputtered for a few moments, the muscles in her thin face trembling beneath her skin as though she were unable to find the words to express her rage. At last, she took a deep, steadying breath, and shut her eyes. Still trembling, she seemed to wilt before Alanki like a sorry pup, and lowered her head. “I’ve been waiting,” she said with a forced gentleness, her voice soft and tearful. “So long I’ve been waiting…a—and I haven’t been myself, not all the time, I know, but…but I did what I had to. And perhaps this is what I deserve.”
“I’m afraid I don’t…?”
“THIS IS WHAT I DESERVE!” the old wolf howled, flying up again with frightening speed, her dead eyes flashing open and filling with an insane glow. “ALWAYS ALWAYS! THEY WERE WRONG—ALL OF THEM!”
Alanki watched with mingled shock and disgust as the tawny she-wolf began stomping on the marshy ground, positively falling to pieces in a strange, joyful fury. Alanki took another few steps away, and for some reason felt a chill skitter across the skin beneath her thick, mud-streaked fur.
“What’re you talking about?” she asked, her voice rough and hoarse, as though her throat were filled with sand. “Who are you?”
The old she-wolf fell silent. She seemed to wilt, to melt—her ears and tail falling into a droop and her fur lying lank and flat. Quivering, she raised her head to look up at Alanki with enormous, sad green eyes.
“Oh,” she whispered, like a pup. “Oh. She doesn’t know. Of course she doesn’t. It would be too fair. As if I didn’t say the proper prayers…how dare she return?”
Alanki was just about to reply when another wolf stalked up from behind the mad old she-wolf. He was in the same hungry, unkempt condition, but his dusty fur was a smoky black which matched his eyes—angry and suspicious. He growled at Alanki and shoved his way between her and the tawny she-wolf, who was still mumbling to the ground.
“Who are you?” he demanded, narrowing his hostile eyes at her. Alanki stiffened.
“I may ask who you are,” she said, with the same flat air of mistrust. “This is my forest, after all. You are intruders here. Take me to your alpha immediately.”
“What business do you have with the alpha? I’m not taking you anywhere until you declare yourself.”
“Oh, yes you shall,” Alanki growled. “‘Tis my business, unfortunately, that I am to straighten out with this alpha of yours—nothing I need explain to anyone else. But if you do not do as I ask, you shall find yourself with more of an explanation than you wanted.”
“Is that a threat?” he said, eyes narrowing. “Because if you dare—”
“Of course ‘twas a threat, idiot. Now allow me to repeat myself—take me to your alpha.”
Before the seething black wolf could reply, another wolf came padding across the clearing, his tail waving out behind him.
“Avrok!” he said. “Who is this?”
“Some patrol wolf,” Avrok mumbled, lowering his eyes. “She claims this is her territory.”
Straight away, Alanki knew that this new wolf had to be the alpha—the way Avrok was speaking to him, and the way he held himself. The alpha’s pelt was a dull coal-black with streaks of silver age around the muzzle. Strangely, Alanki had to look only once into his eyes—a deep, liquid burnt-gold, almost orange—and know right away that this was a wolf she could trust. She’d never seen one of those before.
The old black alpha dipped his head to her, as if she were a guest.
“My name is Misari,” he said in a low voice. “You must excuse us. We have been traveling, and the journey was very difficult. Naturally, we will be most suspicious towards strangers. Though, no doubt, we are the strangers in this land. Again, I am sorry if we are intruding.”
Alanki nodded, satisfied. “How many of you are there?” she asked for the second time.
Misari shook his dark head. “Few, of what is left. There used to be more of us, but we have been through terrible times.”
At this, Alanki noticed him give a short, sad glance in the direction of the tawny she-wolf, who was still muttering to herself and scuffing her tattered paws in the dirt.
Alanki, watching the tawny she-wolf, felt a prickle of unease—which surprised her. What reason did she have to care about the no-doubt tragic pasts of these wolves? She had troubles enough of her own.
Alanki turned back towards Misari, who was watching her closely. “What has happened?” she asked, and he gave a regretful smile, just like the one worn by Delphinium when she would tell the fawns a cautionary tale.
“Every terrible thing that you could imagine,” he said. “We were driven out of our old lands by a terrible drought—a drought with such a powerful hold on our throats, one may believe that we had angered the Spirits themselves. Indeed, that may be so; only a few seasons of traveling had passed before we were devastated by a terrible forest fire from which we barely escaped together. After many months of more traveling, we find ourselves here. We have been through far too much to exchange hostilities with a stranger.”
Alanki was surprised at how easily he was able to speak of the troubles his pack had been through and how weak they were at the moment. Most alphas would never even say anything to suggest that their pack was vulnerable, much less go into detail.
“So what is wrong with her?” Alanki asked, looking at the old tawny she-wolf. “Is it that you all are crazy? She is crazy, yes? ‘Tis that she or I. I do not know her, but she claims that she has been wronged.”
The tawny she-wolf let out a thin wail like a crying pup, and curled into a quivering knot on the damp ground. Alanki shifted with some discomfort, aware of how insensitiv
e she had sounded, although she had been being truthful.
Misari looked at the she-wolf and then looked at Alanki. A strange expression flitted across his face, and for a moment it looked as though he were going to going to reach out to Alanki, as if to ask her a question, but seemed to decide against it.
“Do—do not be worried,” he said at last. He drew a deep breath, and the tremor that had crept into his voice vanished. “She has been through more than any of us—and, I am afraid, she is not the same for it. Never will she be the same; she has been torn apart.”
Alanki glanced down at the motionless she-wolf. Torn apart? It sounded dramatic, like something Eyebright would say. What did he mean by that?
“Her pups,” Misari explained, as though he had read Alanki’s mind. “All of her pups were taken from her. Most recently, she lost one of them in the fire—though he was no longer a pup, almost an adult by then.” He sighed. “And he was a fine son to me, and I am afraid he understood his mother far better than I ever was able. I am to be blamed; do not be upset by whatever she has accused you of. She is always seeing things that are not there, talking to creatures no one else knows of and wolves that are long dead. Crying, too. I am sorry if she disturbed you.”
Alanki nodded, her throat feeling dry. She said nothing as Misari ordered the grumpy wolf named Avrok to take the miserable tawny she-wolf back to her den under the bushes. Her mind was spinning with a thousand different thoughts, none of which made any sense to her. It was only until she heard Misari speaking again that she came back to her senses.
“Are you alone?”
Alanki jumped. “What do you mean?”
Misari’s yellow-orange eyes were shrewd. “I mean, are you a loner? Are there any other wolves on this territory?”
Alanki narrowed her eyes. Of course. No matter how trustworthy this alpha may seem to be, he would not want to be threatened by any other wolves on his territory. If she told him she was a renegade, well, they would probably drive her out, even if they did so politely. She could attack this pack from the shadows as she had done with the other pack, but she felt as though she could not afford to make any more enemies at the present time.
Alanki had always found it helpful to lie.
“No,” Alanki said, raising her brow as though she found the suggestion offensive. “Of course I’m not a loner.”
Misari looked surprised.
Alanki grinned like a fox. “Certainly not. Did you not hear them—my pack? Just a few moments ago? A patrol was coming through here, chasing a badger out of our forest. I was with them.”
“Of course I heard them. Everyone heard them. Where—where are they now?”
“They scented you. ‘Twas only a patrol, you see—they went back to the settlement to report what they scented to the alpha. They sent me here to attempt to reason with you and your pack.”
Misari sighed, and Alanki’s grin widened, though she was careful to keep a straight face when the black alpha looked back up at her, his orange eyes now with a nervous glitter.
“I am sorry for intruding on your territory,” he said. “But we have no choice. We do not want trouble; we do not want to fight with your pack. You can see, we cannot fight any longer. I admit, we are weak. We are no harm to you.”
“Good,” Alanki said. “I shall tell the alpha that.”
“We will move on soon, I promise you. But for now, if it is not too much trouble, if your alpha consents, may we remain here for a while? A half-season, perhaps? My pack is too weary to move on at the moment; we must rest. I’m afraid we have been traveling for too long.”
“Oh, I shall ask the alpha. But only on one condition.”
“And what is that?”
“There is a deer herd on the fields nearby here,” Alanki said. “You are to leave them alone. Don’t even go near them. Do not dare.”
“That is fine, of course.” Misari sounded puzzled. “We will do as you say; we are in your land.”
Alanki nodded, pleased with her deception. “Then you may stay. Once I’ve spoken to the alpha.”
Misari dipped his head, looking relieved. Alanki turned and swept out of the marshy clearing, feeling the dull eyes of the pack watching her as she left. They would be no trouble to her. Their alpha had promised. And as for the other pack…
Misari watched the white she-wolf, the messenger from the other pack, leave the makeshift camp looking strangely satisfied. An old sadness was tugging at his heart, and he felt very weary.
He turned and looked at Arwena, the old and ragged she-wolf. She had crept from the den Avrok had led her to and stood at Misari’s side now, watching the shuddering undergrowth the wolf had vanished into with wide, fervent eyes. Her shoulders trembled. She was silent now.
“You always were so clever, my dear,” Misaria said to her, his voice sad and soft. He shook his head. “I should have known you better. You always were so defiant, so strong. You were not one to be bound by the old rules. I should have known.”
Arwena bristled as he turned to look at her. She gave a wordless snarl and whipped around, kicking dirt at his feet. Misari sighed in defeat as she stumbled away. His head felt heavy and full of sand, and his eyes burned. He watched the darkness into which the white wolf had vanished and wondered, sadly, if this was meant to be.