The Ward was called to a meeting then, deep within the den, a council meeting if you will - to discuss such matters that are far more dark, twisted, and ominous than any wolf shall ever hear. The newer of the year slinked back among the shadows, wallowing in its beautiful opaqueness. Fray rested near her mother, her wary eyes shifting from Aspen to the council, upon meeting the solitary she’d felt an uncanny, and sinful pain. His presence, like that of a human, alien and spiteful, her lips writhed back slightly at the thought. “What’s the matter, Fray?” asked Willow, his head tilted slightly in a puppyish mannerism.

She peered up, her mind loosing track of her thoughts, “I don’t know.” She replied, “It’s as if, now, I feel a change in the wind, our home becoming a dark shadowy place wallowing …oh, listen to me, sounding as foolish as a spring cale cub. But let us continue with the meeting, mother why don’t you resume speaking.”

Socrates nodded, “Good evening fellow wolves, as you all know quite well my daughter and I went in search for these Kodiaks that ambushed our alpha and Ward leaving not a trace, scent nor dropping. But I believe its safe now, though. We shall be ever cautious, for if something should come within our territory, it will very well be the death of us all.”

Indistinct mummers broke out again, the wolves taking it among themselves to discuss the matter. “Who’s that fellow there?” inquired a wolf.

“Who invited him here?” another spoke out, “He doesn’t smell at all of wolf blood.”

“Listen here, all of you!” roared Fray, her thick coat beginning to bristle, “I am the one who allowed him passage, you are not law here, but all are fully welcome to overrule me, though I suggest otherwise.” Her back arched, curving like that of the crescent moon dipping low the darkened night sky. Her upper lip rose and her nostrils widen, as she drew in slow easy breaths and stood legs locked protectively in front of Aspen as if he were her own.

“Hush now, enough of this. This pack is my own!” growled Vega, as he staggered regain his balance finally taking his place in the conversation. His tail shakily stood stiff like a branch in November, a barren stick free of leaves happiness. He approached Aspen slowly inspecting the wolf head to paw, circling him as a scavenging vulture would do its dead prey. “What pack are you from?” he inquired, his voice causing Aspen to quiver in fear.

“I was born in a hollow den Far North of here; over the mountains, in the pack of Sidaria.” replied Aspen boldly, stepping towards the alpha-male. There was a new confidence in the young male’s voice, the pack stood in silence; none had ever challenged Vega before, for he was obviously more massive in size than anyone wolf in the pack, plus his metallic jaws and unbeatable strength are nothing to be reckoned with either. He was known infamously for attacking and killing an adult stag by himself. That was unheard of among wolves.

Night had fallen and a fearful wind roared outside the mouth of the den and the wind whistled about their ears, the chilled air pulsated throughout it as thick warm blood would a beating heart. The howl of it silenced even the alpha, “smells of rain, I reckon the beginning of a summer storm.” muttered Vega. He sniffed Aspen cautiously, “and your kin, where are they all?” he asked. “Do they know of your departure, or perhaps maybe they sent you away?” he continued, the questions sparking a fire in the kipling’s heart.

“I…I don’t know, I lost them, fleeing over the high mountains.”

Vega swerve around instantaneously and the snarl that came from his massive gray jaw held pure aggression with the threat to slaughter and kill; even wounded the gray male was still lethal fighting weapon. Socrates stepped between them displaying her white teeth and crouching low, her reaction just as swift as her mates. She growled furiously, and again flashed her angry teeth. Vega calmed his furry, for his mate, even though she was his would just as any other wolf attack him, without fail and unhesitant in the strike.

“You are no kin of mine; since you choose to join our pack you shall be now, omega here. At this time you shall respect those higher in rank than your own.” He turned towards Jasper who cringed at the very sight of the alpha’s eyes, he now entered the stage of active submission as the former omega, his legs bent, his tail sunk lower, and his ears slicked back flat against his head. He whimpered softly and padded near Vega, as if a newborn cale cub begging for food, he bunted his nose to his superior’s square muzzle in a greeting way. “Your new rank is that of adviser, it is said that you are knowledgeable and posses much logic beyond your year. You should do well at this position, and you take direct orders from Captain Bane. Understood?”

“Yes alpha-Vega, sir.” Jasper lowered his eyelevel. “I shan’t disappoint you.”

“And from heist forth, none shall ever leave the territory without direct permission from the alphas.” growled Vega.

The council dispersed with the wounded alpha being the first to leave the cluster of wolves, Fray stepped up to Aspen her piercing evergreen orbs held a calmness about them, a sort of fondness for the newcomer as she peered into the young male wolf’s eyes. “Please don’t mind my father; he is…only doing what he thinks best for our pack. He only hopes to insure our family’s future. And it’s only in a wolf's nature to fear other wolves.” explained Fray. “So tell me of your adventures here. What is your home like?”

Rune watched not too far off as his sister engaged in small conversation with the blue wolf, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy as excitement sparkled in her eyes. He scoffed and looked to Saffron who lie peacefully next to him, head on paws and her breathing fine and soundless. A wave of loneness washed over him, for at that moment he had no one to turn to. It was quite natural for littermates to feel attached to one another, since their siblings died during birth the two shared a bond stronger than any mere brother and sister. He’d never thought that anything could come between them: a growl formed deep deep within his belly as a flame of hatred began to ignite in his orange eyes. Rune’s muzzle curled into a wordless snarl. This woke Saffron from her deep-rooted slumber, “what’s the matter with you, Rune?” she asked, nudging him roughly with her muzzle.

“Oh, Saffron, can you believe my father is allowing that horrid mutt to remain here?” he growled, rearing his ears back. Saffron’s eyes glowed immensely sullen. She had grown up as a playmate of Runes’; he’d often refrained from communicating with anyone while he was a pup. She winced, when she thought of how much of an outcast he was during pup-hood and clear into the end of their adolescent. Growing up he acted like that of a solitary himself.

“We are of pure wolf blood!” he said pompously, sensing the she-wolf’s concern, “Our pack has reined from this forest for many moons, and yet here we are permitting low life half-breeds to roam freely across our lands. Have we not been the fierce animals that our ancestors had been?”

“I thought he was rather interesting,” said Saffron, wagging her tail slightly, “It’s been awhile since we’ve meet others of our kind.”

“Our…kind,” he whispered, a ferocious growl burning at his throat as he pawed at the ground.

“You’ve just met. And your sister seems to have taken a new fondness to him.”

At this he replied jealousy, “My sister, like him? I think not!”

A shimmering golden light lit the dim cavernous den; the scent of the early morning sun was heavy in the carrying winds. It had been three moons since the incident, and Vega wounds were beginning to heal quite well. That morning Fray was the first to wake, a gust of wind forced its way through the den, tousling her pepper coat. The she-wolf pricked up her bushy white ears as a faint sound echoed in the distance, she rose from where she lay and padded towards the mouth of the den. She sniffed the air cautiously; It smells of fire, she thought, she sniffed again, The burning of animal flesh?

The she-wolf ventured to the edge of the clearing following where ever her nose may lead her. Down to the meadow and towards a cluster of juniper trees, she pressed on through the small trees. The wood began to thin out and become narrow, she’d traveled a far distance without even considering it, and now she was heading in the direction of the mountain valley. Higher and higher she climbed the ascending slope tracing the scent of burning flesh. Finally, arriving at the end of the slope, a rocky cliff where the earth was loose and wet and the ravine snaked its way around the forest. She peered down beyond the valley stepping forward slightly the earth suddenly shifted and then plunged away from the hill, but there within the wood was a small fire flared brightly creating a giant cloud of black smoke: around it were pitched tens, “it is Man,” said a voice from behind her, “they seemed to have descended the mountain of the Far North.”

“You’ve been trailing me, for quite sometime, Aspen,” replied Fray coolly, “what does Man want with this forest?”

“We ought to have nothing to do with those creatures, the Man is very dangerous.”

The blue wolf approached the she-wolf’s side respectfully, nuzzling her behind the ears, then rubbing his nose under her muzzle and displaying a clear view of his throat before continuing further. The two gaze down the void with fearful eyes watching the bubbling river below crash upon the jagged rocks that sat upon the shore. “Aspen, I want you, from now on act as a brother to me. That means we are family, now, tell me what you know of Man.” She said, looking fondly at her companion, “what do they seek; I’ve never seen one before.”

“All I’ve seen is a destroyer, who kills and attacks without warning,” growled Aspen sniffing the breeze, “but I’ve only encountered them once before.”

As Fray watched these amazing, yet mysterious creatures her eyes sparkling with such excitement, this animal prowled around on two feet: how absurd, she’d only heard stories of man from the elders, but she never believed their tales. Her tail wagged happily, as she felt herself being entranced by this new wonder, getting on paws she hesitated. Her legs felt wobbly and there was deafening ringing in her ears. Something was unsettled within her and she felt bizarre. This incoherent muttering, that rang throughout her ears sounded a lot like talking.

“What’s the matter?” questioned Aspen, rearing his ears forward and cocking his head sideways.

She staggered backwards her hind legs slipping off the edge of the ravine searching for some foothold, rocks crumbled beneath her paws, rolling downward into the abyss creating a faint splash in the water below. She could sense how unbalanced her body was, but she could do nothing to regain her composure. Aspen motioned towards her, padding cautiously across the showering ledge; earth beneath her paws began to give way sinking lower and lower off the ravine. Fray felt a sudden dizziness in her throbbing head, a slight fear of death, yet she could do nothing to save herself. At last, the ledge dropped hurling off the ravine, crumbling to pieces as it went, but Fray had not fallen instead she hovered above the ravine her body shaking violently. She turned shoulder, glancing slightly behind her to see that Aspen had caught her in mid air. He’d lashed out swiftly catching her by the loose folds around her neck. Although the she-wolf was rearing into her adult size she was still quite heavy, and how Aspen was able to grip her weight within his jaws was beyond even the young male himself.

Aspen backed up crawling on his belly dragging Fray in his mouth, he wanted to insure that she’d be planted on firm grounds so not to slip or fall over the ravine once again. Fray lay shaking violently and eyes clamped shut, her front paw covered her muzzle muffling the soft whimpers that escaped her quivering jaws. “Fray? Fray are you alright?” Aspen whispered, nearing his fallen friend. He nudged her gently then asked again.

She muttered something incomprehensible, Aspen blinked baffled at what he imagined he heard. “You what?” he asked, looking down at her.

“I understood Man.”

“How can you? No Lerka can speak to Man, and none should ever.” He said, his tone growing serious.

Lerka is the Faolan word meaning wolf

Aspen looked about suspiciously his keen senses screaming, his ears cocked back fearfully as he stood still-stocked hovering above the fallen she-wolf. Within him he could sense a terrible danger coming, not an immediate threat but a far off one. He curled back his upper lip, so far in fact that his sharp canines were visible glittering beautifully in the morning sun. A snarl shuddered through his body, something was in the forest, a hunter perhaps or maybe something as harmless as prey, but he did not know for certain, and that is why he feared it.

“Come on!” he growled lowly, “we daren’t stay here much longer, it’s far too dangerous. If Man is on the move then we should be too, it’s not safe dwell here.”

His tone was not of anger or aggression, but of protection. Fray nodded sullenly and stood shivering bitterly; fear had consumed her like a mist, rendering all inhabitations of flight or fight. “Let us leave then,” she said, stepping up beside him. The wolves trotted back to the forest pricking their ears and listening contently to the traveling winds of the north and scenting the passing breeze.

They descended the steep mound of heaped earth in which countless earthquakes and rockslides uprooted trees and bushes causing the ground to no longer be firm, smooth and softened, as they pressed further down the slope earth slipped through their paws easily, in order to retain balance the two ended up zigzagging back and forth. By the time they reached the clearing of the den it was nearing Lene, or high sun. Fray was lagging far behind Aspen; her spiraling thought preoccupied more with this morning’s events. She glanced up, scenting the air, the clouds heavy with water shifted in the mid-noon sky forcing the sun to slowly retreat back to the horizon. The breeze smelled heavily of rain and it was much colder than it had been this spring. She paused, stopping dead in her tracks. Her insides tightened as she locked eyes with a fine gray wolf. It was Vega. His magnificent sleek coat bristled and his whiskers stood on end as he angrily watched the pair. Fray tore way from her father’s glowering eyes, the fury that burned within made her tremble, for he never shown such rage, and such frustration towards her before.

“You dare disobey the law of this pack?” snarled Vega, displaying his brilliant white fangs. “Fray, you know far better than to wander without consent. I expected better of you. And you! I allow you here as one of my own…as part my family, and you step beyond your rank and leave the den. You are to do nothing more than what tell!”

Aspen lowered his gaze uncomfortably while Fray stared penetratingly at the alpha her eyes not backing down from his authority. The wolves around them were oblivious to the situation, going about their normal routes rousing about among the nettles and blossomed buttercups and basking in the evening sun. “But father, there is something I must tell you. Man is in the wood, and not too far off. Just a mile down in the mountain valley, and they’re numbers are great.” She started.

The others were listening intently now; few pretending to gnaw on a few old carcass bones from a deer that the pack buried outside the den only a few moons ago, while others groomed one another. Vega tilted his head slightly, almost as if taken aback by the outburst for a moment. Then he threw his head back with a great thrust and laughed, “Man? In the wood? Yes, my dear Fray how ever horrible indeed!” Fray flinched, not because of what he said, but because of his laugh. Wolves didn’t generally express themselves with laughter, the sound one makes when engaging in the bizarre activity was beyond any of them. Something was behind his laughter, a faint shakiness of fear, as if to suggest “I know, and we are all doomed.” Although it made her anxious to even consider that her father knew anything about the Man in the forest. “Why Fray what an Imagination you have, you’ve become quite the storyteller my dear. Would you be interested in telling another I wonder?”

“Yes, yes. Tell another.” A wolf blurted out. “Is the Great Creator himself reining down upon us, Fray?”

The wolves began to breakout in laughter as well; it seemed at this point contagious. Aspen looked about him ready to bolt into the shadows of the den, seeking a way to shrink back without drawing attention to himself. Fray was silenced, a kipling was never asked to tell stories, at least not by adult wolves perhaps to a cale cub or other kiplings, but never in the presence of one much older than her year. Their laughter continued like a mocking sound of a raven, it echoed across the hollow land, ascending even the highest mountains of the northern region, once it ceased her father looked towards her the once smoldering flare dying down into an absent simmer.