Sunday, April 10, 2011

Short Story


Wolves’ Journey        By              Michelle Dart

It was the moment of the day where everything seems to be holding their breath.  The sun was not quite set, almost dusk.  The air was cold, and everything was still and silent, broken only by the almost silent treading of paws on the prowl.  Amber eyes glinted through the bushes.  Suddenly, there was a shout, a rushing of paws.  A sound like thunder rang out, and there was a howl of pain as a young wolf, almost full grown, crashed to the ground.  His pack mates looked on in fury and dismay as the humans surrounded his body and carried it away, unable to retrieve it for a proper burial.
“This should not have happened,” one of them, growled, “we are still far from their dens.”  The others murmured restlessly, hackles raised, wanting to attack.  One of them, an older wolf, stepped in front.
“There is nothing more we can do.  If we attack, it will only cost more lives.  We need to go back and report this to Kiro.”  He spoke steadily, staring them down.
“Do nothing?! Just go back and let the humans take him away?  Are you out of your mind Stormclaw?”  The first wolf snarled. “We should do something! He was the most promising novice we have! How can you…”
“Enough!”  Stormclaw interrupted sharply, “Enough.  I know, Sleetfoot – do not forget, he was my son.”  Sleetfoot and the others fell silent, and looked away, finally seeing the pain in Stormclaw’s amber eyes.  “We need to go back.  Kiro needs to know.  We do not need a body to honor White.  His spirit is still with us.”  The other wolves nodded sadly, and turned to follow him back to their home.
*
The meadow was peaceful, the multicolored light of dusk filtering through the leaves of the surrounding trees as the sun went down.  It was flat and bare, except for a giant rock in the center of the clearing.  Dens dotted the outer areas, closer to the trees.  Wolves were everywhere, their pelts ranging from stormy grey to white, melting in and out of the snow and shadows.  Older wolves were laying down grooming and chatting to each other.  The younger wolves were resting from a long day of practice.  A litter of pups was play fighting outside their den, with their mother watching closely.  As the patrol entered the clearing, one of the largest wolves stood and walked over to them. 
“You’re later than usual, Stormclaw,” he said as he approached, “and where is White?” He tipped his head inquiringly, searching the group to see if anyone else was absent.
Stormclaw bowed his head in respect, tucking his tail between his legs and laying his ears back in shame.  “Kiro, the news we bring is grave.  White was killed in the field to the west.  He was scouting the area for prey when he was shot by humans.  It happened so fast we could do nothing.”  He shook slightly as he recounted his son’s death, his eyes misty with the sorrow he was trying to contain.
Kiro’s eyes widened in horror. “Killed?  Humans this close?”  He looked up at the sky, the stars just starting to appear.  “What are we to do now? They are so close…” he said softly, so none of the others could hear him.  Kiro turned back to Stormclaw and gave him a comforting lick. “I am sorry, old friend.  White’s loss will be felt by the whole pack.  Remember though, he will never be forgotten.”  Stormclaw met his leader’s gaze and nodded, relief starting to clear his eyes.  “Go rest, I must think about what has happened, and what we are to do about it.”  The group dispersed; Kiro headed for his den while the others went to rest and tell the rest of the pack what happened.
*
“What is taking so long?”  “Why hasn’t Kiro called a meeting?”  Whispers flitted around the camp.  The sun had set, the moon was about to rise, and all the wolves had returned for the night.  The news of White’s death had spread like wildfire, but Kiro had yet to say anything about it.
 “We should be doing something about this!” Sleetfoot stood and started to stir up the others.  “How can he still be deciding on what to do? We should attack!”  Several wolves howled their agreement.  “I’ll lead the patrol myself if I have to!”
“For the last time Sleetfoot, be silent!”  Stormclaw growled at him threateningly.  “Getting everyone stirred up is not going to help.  Kiro will decide what to and who is going to do it.  He is our leader – or have you forgotten that? Unlike you, he’s thinking about the future and the welfare of the entire pack, not just getting revenge for one wolf.”
Sleetfoot laid his ears back and growled. “I am thinking of the pack,” he snarled. “If we let them get away with this we will be picked off one by one.  We should attack and drive them from our hunting grounds!”
Stormclaw shoved him to the ground, pinning him down.  “You forget your place, taking that tone with me,” he snarled, baring his fangs.  “I am the second in command here under the Kiro and Kira; only they have more authority than I do and you dare bear your fangs to me?”  He lowered his muzzle close to Sleetfoot’s, his last few words a low, threatening rumble.  “Kiro will tell us what he has decided when he is ready,” he said, lifting his voice so all the wolves could hear him, “until then no one is to act on their own.  No one is to leave camp, and no one is going to say another word about attacking the humans until Kiro says otherwise. IS THAT CLEAR?”  The wolves bowed their heads in silence, cowed by their deputy’s rage.  Stormclaw moved off Sleetfoot, allowing him to stand. “Pull something like that again,” he growled, “and next time I won’t let you off so easy.”  He glared into Sleetfoot’s eyes until he looked away in shame.
“Well said, Stormclaw.”  The pack turned as Kiro came up behind them.  “Sleetfoot, I am disappointed in you.  The last thing we need right now is to be fighting amongst ourselves.” Sleetfoot bowed his head in his disgrace. Kiro walked past his wolves and leaped onto the boulder in the center of the clearing.  “Gather together here and listen to what I have to say.  There is much that needs to be said tonight.”  The last few wolves came out of their dens to listen to their leader; Kira, Kiro’s mate, lay at the entrance of her den so she could hear and still keep an eye on her young pups.  “As you all now probably know, earlier this evening we lost one of our novices.  White was killed, and his patrol was unable to recover his body.  He may have only been a novice in life, but in his death he will be remembered as a full member of this pack.” 
The wolves perked their ears up in interest.  The ceremony to promote a dead or dying novice was a rare occasion.  It showed that the leader acknowledged the novice would have become a full pack-member very soon, had he or she lived.
Kiro lifted his eyes to the sky as he spoke the ancient rite. “Great pack of the sky, noble Fathers from who we are descended: hear my cry!  On the trail to you now is one who has died before his time.  White trained hard in the ways of our pack, and is worthy to become a full pack-member.  Receive him now with the pack-name of Whiteshadow, for his stalking skills were next to none.  He was truly a white shadow against the snow.  It is with this name he will be forever remembered by his pack.  Accept him well, for he died with honor, as full pack-member.”  Kiro let loose a closing howl to seal the ceremony, and the others joined in.  They howled Whiteshadow’s name to show their approval, and to sing him to the stars.
*
After the howls died away, the wolves sat hushed, unwilling to break the reverent mood.  Finally, one of the novices, Whiteshadow’s sister, Wind, timidly broke the silence.  “What are we going to do now?” she asked in a quiet voice, looking up at Kira with eyes that showed, hidden under the relief that her brother died a full pack-member, her heart was still full of sorrow. Before Kiro could answer, Slushtail, Sleetfoot’s closest friend in the pack, leaped to his feet. 
“We should attack!” he yelled, “The humans have caused us one problem too many.  They have invaded our territory, kill or scaring off a great deal of our prey.  The elk and caribou come in fewer numbers each year.  Now they have even begun to hunt us!  We should show them that we rule this territory – we are the hunters, they are the hunted!”  Sleetfoot, and another of the wolves, Coldsnout, howled their assent.  Winterfur, Stormclaw’s mate, and their friend Rimeclaw glared at them in disapproval. 
The novices looked on in confusion, not sure whose side to take, as Stormclaw rose, growling furiously. “I have heard enough out of the three of you!  Why can’t you see that trying to fight them would only cost more lives?!”  Coldsnout snarled wordlessly in reply, lips drawn back, fully exposing his fangs.  The other wolves drew back as the two crept towards each other, ears laid back, eyes blazing, hackles raised, and fangs bared, growling and snarling in challenge, poised to fight.  But before they could engage, Kiro let spoke out with a roar, “STOP!  Both of you cease this pointless bickering at once!”  Stormclaw and Coldsnout froze, stifling their growls, and slowly turned to look at their leader. 
The other wolves flicked their ears nervously.  The novices crouched low; they had never seen Kiro this angry before, golden-amber eyes blazing, feet set apart, back arched and hackles raised, fangs glinting in full fury.  All at once, there was a bright flash, and a sudden blast of wind.  The wolves closed their eyes and yipped in fright.  When they opened their eyes, they gasped in wonder – they had forgotten it was the full moon tonight, and it had finally started to rise.  Kiro stood in his fury, made to look even more so as he stretched his moon-granted wings wide.  Given only to the rightful leader and only on the night of the full moon, Kiro’s silver-feathered wings amplified the anger and authority in his words.
“I am ashamed of you both,” he continued in a piercing growl. “one of our members has been called to the stars.  Coldsnout!” The wolf flinched and tucked his tail between his legs. In the shadow of his leader’s wings, Kiro’s furious gazed pierced through him.  “You tarnish this night with foolish thoughts and calls for revenge.  You show disrespect towards your fallen comrade, and disrespect towards me by challenging my deputy.  This will not be soon forgotten.”
Coldsnout nodded, quivering, with a submissive whine and laid back down.  The other wolves were slowly creeping back forward, closing the space. 
Kiro turned his gaze to his deputy, the fire in his eyes fading into disappointment. “Stormclaw!”  He barked the name more sharply than he had intended, and his lieutenant sat and bowed his head in shame.  Kiro let his fur lie flat, folding his wings across his back, and continued in a calmer voice, “Stormclaw, I know you are just as angry as he is, probably even more so, because Whiteshadow was your son.  I know you are trying your best to conceal your sadness and anger.  Inside, you probably want to fight them too, but you have been keeping those feelings in check, caring more for the pack as a whole than for yourself.  For this, I thank you.  However, taking out these feelings on one of the wolves you help to lead is unacceptable. You are angry because he can say how he feels while you cannot, but you should still know that fighting is never the answer.” 
Stormclaw nodded wordlessly, tears running down his muzzle.  Winterfur came and sat beside him, giving him a comforting lick.  Wind, her other brother Hail, and their sister, Flurry, also gathered around their father.
Kiro let his gaze sweep over his pack.  “Let this be a lesson to all of you.  I have made my decision, and had already made it before I began this meeting.  We will not be attacking the humans.  As Stormclaw has already said, the risk is too great and too many lives would be lost.  Our pack is small; we cannot afford to lose anyone in a worthless battle for revenge.”  He raised his voice again, not in anger but to enforce the finality of his words.  “This decision is not to be debated.  There will be no more confrontations!  The times ahead are going to be harder than anything this pack has faced since the time it was formed long ago; we cannot afford to be fighting amongst ourselves.”
The other wolves glanced at each other in confusion.  “What do you mean?” asked Rimeclaw. “Yes, the prey’s going to be a bit scarce, but that has happened in the past.  As for the humans, well they…” He broke off as Kiro began to shake his head sadly.
“No,” Kiro said, “that is not what I meant.”  He raised his head and stared at the sky. Please, Great Sky Pack, he pleaded silently, give me the words to make them understand Your will.  Help them to trust me.  He lowered his gaze to his pack, who were glancing and whispering nervously to each other. “I have thought hard and read the signs, and they all point to the same answer.  In order to survive we must do the same as our prey.  We have to find a new territory, free from the encroaching threat of Man.  We must leave!”
*
A stunned silence met his words.  A dozen pairs of amber eyes glinted in shock.  Then, as if directed by an invisible signal, the wolves leaped to their feet and all started clamoring at once.
“Leave?! And to go where?”
“Our pack has held these lands for ages! We can’t just leave!”
“The threat from the humans can’t be that great!”
“Kiro, have you gone MAD?!”
All the other wolves fell silent as the challenge was called, searching for its source.  They turned to see Kira stalking in shocked fury towards the rock where her mate stood, their three pups tumbling around behind her.  Kira was equal in rank to Kiro, she had just as much influence and power as him, and as such, a confrontation between the two was never taken lightly and could have dire consequences.   As she approached, she repeated her challenge.  “What are you saying?  Leave our home, our history, our sky?  Just because of a few humans and a decrease in prey?  Where would we go?”  She stopped at the base of the rock as she asked the last question, her silver-grey fur shining in the moonlight.  The other wolves nodded and whined, echoing her questions, as they sat or lay back down, nervously awaiting their leader’s answer. 
Kiro looked down at his mate sadly, his wings drooping slightly; disappointed, but slightly unsurprised, that she had openly challenged him with the rest.  “I can understand how you all must be feeling now,” he began softly, “I felt the same way when our Fathers first showed me the signs.  I asked them time and again if this was truly what they have intended for us to do.  That is why I waited so long to call you together.  But every time the answer was the same – for our pack to survive we must find a new territory for our hunting grounds.”
“Why though?”  This time it was Stormclaw, finally finding his voice.  His questions were asked not in a challenge, but in confusion.  “Why would they tell us to leave?  Are they sending us away, abandoning us?  Our pack has survived prey shortages and competition from other hunters in the past, what is so different this time?”  The wolves twitched fearfully, the thought of their Fathers in the sky abandoning them too terrible to consider.
Kiro answered quickly, before they began to panic.  “No, they are not going to abandon us.  They will be with us, showing us the way, to find a new patch of sky to watch us from.”  The pack sighed in slight relief, the prospect of a journey and the reasons behind it still causing worry.
Kiro continued in an even voice, speaking clearly to make sure they heard every word.  “As for the reason for our trek, they are most dire.  Yes, we and our forefathers before us have dealt with shortages and competition before, but nothing the likes of which our Fathers showed to me that the humans will cause.”  Lifting his head, he raised his voice and spread his wings wide, looking into the distance as he remembered the visions he had received.  “They will hunt our prey until it has all but become extinct in this area.  They will keep expanding their territory, building their stone dens and carving up the land.  They have the sticks that killed Whiteshadow, which spit fire and crack like thunder.  They hunt not for food, but for sport.  They fear us, and that is why they will hunt us too.  Poison, traps made from shining, sharpened stone, their sticks, all this and more they will use to eliminate us.  Yes, our pack with the individuals it has now would survive for a time, but our descendants would not.  You ask of our future?  I give you the answer our Fathers gave me; if we remain here, there is no future.  This pack will eventually cease to exist.  In order to preserve this pack, to give ourselves and our children a future, we must go.  There is no other way.”  He folded his wings and lowered his eyes to look at his pack.
Again, his words were met in a stunned silence as the pack tried to understand, trying to visualize the terrible future that Kiro described for their pack.  Finally, the truth and magnitude of that future began to sink in.  Not event Sleetfoot and his friends could argue with the need to leave anymore.  However, one voice still spoke out, a mother whose only concern was for the safety of her pups.  “I understand the need to leave,” Kira began, “but must we leave now?  Our pups are barely beginning to wean, they could never survive such as long and difficult journey.”
Kiro gazed wistfully at his mate and pups.  Their two sons, Blizzard and Snow, and their daughter, Frost, were wrestling around their mother’s feet, blissfully unaware of the situation they and their pack was in.  “The longer we wait, the more at risk we are and the more likely it is that we will lose more of our pack.”  He spoke gently, trying to reassure her.  “There will still be prey along the way.  We can all take turns carrying them when they are tired,” the other wolves nodded in agreement, “they will survive; our Fathers will give them strength.”  Kira nodded, still worried, but putting her faith and trust in her mate. Turning to the entire pack, Kiro concluded the meeting.  “I have told you what we must do.  I thank you all for trusting me, and I promise, we will all make it to the end alive.  Prepare yourselves, we leave in two days.” 
He dismissed them with a snap of his wings and jumped down from the rock.  The wolves broke in to groups, heading for their dens.  Kiro walked over to his mate and, gathering her under one wing and the pups under the other, escorted his family back to their den.  With the full moon now high above, the pack went to sleep, dreaming of the journey ahead, and wondering what trials lay in store on the way.
*
Two days later – at dawn – they left.  Traveling at a moderate pace, they soon left their territory behind them.  They stopped and hunted only when they had to; mostly it was when the pups could go no further even when being carried.  Still, Kiro’s promise to Kira held true; the pups were growing stronger, not weaker, managing on their own a little farther each day.  They still did not understand why they were traveling, or why they never went back home, but they didn’t mind.  To them, the journey was an adventure.  The wolves traveled on, trusting Kiro and their Fathers to lead and guide them. 
They had few encounters with other predators, and luckily, none with Man.  It was a difficult journey nonetheless.  At times, there was little or no cover.  The wind blew hard across the snow-bound plains, often blinding in whiteness.  Still they pushed on, striving to find a new home free from the human threat.  After the first few weeks, Hail, Flurry, and Wind joined the ranks of their parents and received their full pack names, Hailfoot, Flurrytail, and Windheart.  It was only a short time after they had been accepted as full pack-members when disaster struck the pack.  A disaster so terrible, it led even Kiro to question why they had left, and if the end was really worth the trial.
*
“That’s far enough for today, it’s time to rest.”  The pack sighed gratefully as Kiro called a stop to their day’s travel.  The night was clear, the crescent moon and the stars casting their light across the plain of snow.  Kira, Windheart, and Rimeclaw set down the squirming pups.
“Those three are starting to get heavy.”  Rimeclaw complained with a laugh.
Windheart butted her father’s friend with her head. “That’s why we take turns.  They still can’t travel as far as we need to in a day.”
“I know, I’m just saying that…” he broke off as he noticed the teasing twinkle in her eyes.  Crouching and growling in a mock-attack, he tackled her.  Windheart yelped playfully and the two rolled and wrestled in the snow.  The other wolves laughed and a few joined in while the others settled down for the night.
“Well, at least spirits are still high,” said Kira, as Kiro walked over to settle down with her and the pups.
“It’s good to have times like this,” he replied, “when we can stop thinking about how much longer this journey will last.”
The wrestling group soon settled down as well.  The pack slept close together, keeping one another warm.
*
The heaving ground threw the wolves awake, their blurred vision seeming to multiply the moon and stars.  The pack crashed around in terror, not knowing where to flee.  The groaning of the earth was deafening, drowning out their howls and cries of panic.  Kiro tried to rally them together, but his voice, too, was lost in the tumult.  The quaking stirred and threw up the snow, blinding them, and soon Kiro had lost sight of his mate and pups.  Scenting each other out was impossible; the smell of fear, earth, and snow was too great.  The rumbling joined with a sound like thunder, and the ground began to crack.  The wolves stumbled away from the growing chasm in horror, trying not to slip and fall into it. Flurrytail wailed in terror as the ground crumbled under her.  Her fall was broken as she felt a sharp pain in her scruff, and someone hauled her away from the abyss.  After what seemed like an eternity, the quaking stopped.  As the snow settled, they wolves got shakily to their feet.  Quivering in fear, they looked around them.  The crevice in the ground was wide, and went as far in either direction as they could see. 
Flurrytail looked to see who it was that saved her and was surprised to see Sleetfoot collapsed next to her.  “You, you saved my life” she stammered.
Sleetfoot stood slowly, “Yeah, well, I guess we all have our moments.  Surprised me, too.” He laughed shakily.  Stormclaw walked over and, nodding gratefully to Sleetfoot, led them to where the others had started to gather around Kiro.
“Is everyone alright?” he asked, panting, Blizzard whimpering at his feet.
“Everyone’s shaken pretty badly, but aside from that and a few minor cuts and bruises everyone seems to be in one piece,” Stormclaw reported.
“Good,” Kiro sighed with relief, and looking around him asked, “is everyone one here?”
“I think so…” Stormclaw trailed off, realizing that there did seem to be someone missing.
The rest of the pack caught on and everyone glanced around anxiously to figure out who was gone.  Their anxiety soon turned to dreading horror as they confirmed who was missing.
“No.”  Kiro’s eyes widened and his entire body shook as he surveyed his pack.  “No, no, NO! Kira! Snow! Frost!” he wailed in growing panic.
“Spread out! Find them!”  Stormclaw took charge and the pack snapped out of their daze, springing in to action.  They spread out along the crack, scenting and listening for any sign of Kira and the two pups.  Soon, though, it became painfully clear they were nowhere to be found.  The wolves came back to their leader and deputy with fearful disappointment.
“There’s no sign of them anywhere,” Winterfur said sadly.  “They’re gone.”
Kiro stared at them, still in shock and unwilling to accept their report. “That can’t be. They have to there.  They must be!”  He raced to the edge of the gorge and looked over. “Kira! Snow! Frost!”   He called their named desperately.
“Kiro – stay away from the edge! It’s too dangerous!”  Stormclaw rushed to his friend’s side, trying to push him back from the cliff.  “They aren’t going to answer.  There’s no way they could have survived if they fell.”
Kiro shoved him aside.  “No!  They can’t be gone!  They can’t!” 
As he turned back towards the edge, a movement on the other side caught his eye.  “Kira?” he whispered, daring to hope.  As he watched, Kira and the other two pups slowly stood and shook the snow from their pelts.  “Kira!”  Kiro howled across the divide, and his mate walked to the edge on her side.  “Kira, you’re alive!  All three of you!” he cried in relief.
Kira stared at him sadly, and shook her head.  “Alive, yes,” she said in a quivering voice, “but with no way to get to you.”
Kiro froze, and began to panic again as the truth of her words sank in.  “Not now maybe, but, but, just wait! Wait until the next full moon.  Then I’ll have my wings, and I can carry you all across!”  He spoke frantically, a pleading hope in his eyes.
Kira slowly shook her head, and looked away.  It was too painful to meet his eyes.  “Prey is too scarce here to wait for the full moon.  Besides, you might be able to manage the pups, but it wouldn’t be possible to carry me across.  Either way, there is no way for me to get back.  You must take the pack and move on.  I will find my own way, with Frost and Snow.”
Kiro’s eyes widened in horror as she spoke.  “No! You’re wrong, just wait and see!  We can manage until the moon is full.  I can carry you across, I know I can!”  He pleaded with his mate, refusing to accept the truth.
Kira looked across at him with tear-filled eyes and, too afraid to say anything further, merely shook her head sadly, turned and walked back to the pups.  Nosing them to their feet she started leading them away.
Kiro looked on in panic, howling after them.  “Kira! Wait!  Please, I can’t…I just…stop!”  His cries got more desperate as she got farther away.  “Kira! Kira! KIRA! KIR-”  He broke off as she continues to ignore his pleas.  Finally, with a shaking breath, he howled with a painful roar, “MOONSILVER!”
The other wolves jerked back, eyes widening in shock.  For anyone to call the leaders by their old pack-name was one of the worst offenses one could make.  Not even the leaders called each other by their old names, even in private.  That he did so now showed them the depth of his pain.
One the other side of the divide, Kira froze at the sound of her name.  Shaking with the emotions she could no longer contain, she cried out in wordless howl of unbearable pain, fear, and sorrow, to answer his call.  Still crying, placing Snow on her back, and carrying Frost in her jaws, she raced away into the night.  She ran, praying that somehow, someday, she and her two pups would find their way to the place where her mate was leading the pack.  Wait for us, she cried to him silently, wait for us.  I will find the way, I promise.  Get the pack there safely, don’t give up.  You still have Blizzard.  I promise I will find you again someday, Icefang!
*
Stormclaw rushed forward to support Kiro as he staggered back from the edge.  “They’re gone.”  He whispered, almost to himself.  Eyes distant and cloudy, he allowed himself to be led slightly away from the others.  Some of them tried to approach, but Stormclaw warned them off with a shake of his head.  “Why? Why did this happen?”  Kiro asked, collapsing to the ground.  Stormclaw could only stand close by him as his friend tried to cope.  Staring up at the moon, Kiro lamented, “Why is it not the full moon?  What good are my wings if I can’t have them when I need them most?”  Sobbing he challenged the stars, “You promised everyone would make it!  You promised!  What have I done to change that? Why…Kira…” he lowered his head and sobbed until he fell into an exhausted sleep.
Winterfur walked over, the rest of the pack hanging back, worried and devastated by their loss.  “What should we do?”  She asked softly.
“Let him sleep,” Stormclaw answered, lying beside Kiro, “perhaps in his dreams he will find the answers he seeks.  Look after Blizzard, will you?  He must be confused and frightened right now.”
Winterfur nodded and walked off, relaying the message to the others.  They settled down again to wait, wondering just what was going to happen next.
*
Kiro slept through the entire day, finally awaking at dusk.  Without a word he stood and walked went to the pack, Stormclaw following close behind.  Whimpering in confusion at all that had happened, Blizzard scrambled up to his father.  As Kiro bent to comfort his son, the others gathered, wondering what his decision would be.  Kiro lifted his head and looked out at them.  He realized he had to somehow find the strength to move on.  Their lives were in his paws and they needed him to lead them.  With a throat hoarse from howling, struggling to keep his voice level, he finally spoke.
“Last night we suffered a loss far greater than anything this pack has yet seen.”  The pack bowed their heads in sorrow, remembering.  “However, we can’t let this hold us back, we…” he paused, taking a deep breath to stave off threatening sobs, “we must press on.  We must finish the journey they began with us, for our future and to honor their memories.”  Without another word, he turned and began to walk.  The pack followed silently and soon, like their past and home, the crevice was left far behind them.
*
  It had been two months since the end of the wolves’ yearlong journey, and the pack had grown.  Blizzard had grown to become a full pack-member, taking the name Blizzardstorm.  Born on the journey, Flurrytail and Sleetfoot’s three pups – two daughters, Roam and Night, and a son, Breeze – were now novices.  Star, Cloud, and White were the daughter and sons of Windheart and Rimeclaw, born a month ago.
 As the last full moon of winter began to rise, the wolves gathered at the sound of Kiro’s call.  “Our journey was long, and it cost us much.”  The older wolves closed their eyes, remembering the night of the earthquake, and what it cost them.  “Despite these hardships,” Kiro continued, “our pack has prospered and grown.  Now, with the starting spring, the prey will come in plenty and,” he raised his wings to indicate the new land, “we will truly make this territory ours!”  The other wolves howled in assent, feeding off the triumph in his voice.  “With this new territory we no longer have to fear Man, we have left him far behind us.  We will grow even stronger! We…” He broke off as he spied something on the horizon.  Wings stiffening at his sides, he began to tremble, eyes widening in a growing hopeful disbelief. 
The others turned, puzzled, to see what had caused such a reaction.  The older wolves froze as they watched the silhouettes of three wolves trotting down the slope towards them.  The novices looked around in confusion as the adults began whispering and quivering in excitement and disbelief when they recognized the lead wolf.
Leaping off the rock, Kiro howled with joy as he spread his wings.  Gliding over the pack, he flew to the ones he thought he would never see again.  As he landed in a spray of snow, Kira leaped on top of him.  Yipping and barking like pups, they danced around each other, licking and drinking in the other’s scent.  Recognizing at last their scents, Blizzardstorm dashed through the others to his siblings, and soon all five of them were rolling around together.
“I thought I’d never see you again.”  Kiro whispered as they began to calm.
“Idiot,” Kira replied warmly, “it takes more than a detour to keep me away.”
Kiro turned towards his other son and his daughter.  “You’ve grown up well.”  They nodded, not knowing what to say.  Kiro looked at his mate, “what did you name them?”
Kira stood proudly beside them, pointing to one, then the other, “They are Snowstep and Frosteyes.”
“Those are fine names,” he said softly, with pride.  “Come, we need to re-introduce them to the rest of the pack.”  Leading them back, the pack surged forward with joyous cries to meet them halfway.   As the pack rejoiced around him, Kiro looked up at the stars.  You did keep Your promise after all.  He thought silently.  We did all make it here alive.  Every one of us.


THE END

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