Promise Of The Wolves (19 page)

“He is a strong elkryn in mating season. He would like nothing more than to prove his strength by killing a wolf. That is why you have to be careful picking prey.”

“Then why doesn’t Ruuqo back away?” We had been told to retreat from any elkryn that looked dangerous.

“Same reason Ranor challenges him,” she answered shortly. “Sometimes a wolf will pick out the toughest prey he can find. It’s a way of showing everyone how strong he is.”

That was confusing. It was exactly the opposite of what we had been taught. Every time I thought I understood what I needed to know to be wolf, something else would come up.

“It’s a part of the hunt they don’t like to teach you until you are older,” Yllin said, watching intently. “But it’s important. They have to prove to each other they are powerful. Ranor has fatally injured wolves before. He likes to kill.”

The elkryn, Ranor, spoke. I found that I was able to understand him, much as I had understood the female elkryn that had challenged me. Apparently elkryn, too, spoke in a way we could understand.

You are looking thin, wolf,
he said to Ruuqo.
Would you like to try to catch me?

“I am not going to wear down the pads of my feet so you can prove yourself to your females, Ranor,” Ruuqo said condescendingly. “I do not have so much to prove.” But Ruuqo’s hackles were raised and his body tensed.

“Wolves do not have the luxury of showing off,” Rissa added, stepping up to stand beside her mate. “Unlike you, we take our responsibility to our pack seriously. We will have one of your mates before the night is done.”

Ranor ignored her, still looking at Ruuqo. Another elkryn, almost as large, strode out to stand beside Ranor.

“Yonor,” Yllin whispered. “Ranor’s brother.”

Torell and the Stone Peaks will challenge us,
the new elkryn said.
They are not so fearful as you are, smallwolf. They are wolves, not bunny rabbits.

Ruuqo’s fur bristled. I saw that Werrna was watching him carefully. Yllin’s breath beside me grew shallow and sharp. Ruuqo took four steps toward Ranor. The elkryn stepped forward, too, then halted when Ruuqo did not run. Ruuqo lowered his head. Ranor lowered his. They stood that way for several moments.

Another time, then, smallwolf,
Ranor said. And walked back among his females. Yonor followed.

Ruuqo shook himself and looked over his pack. When he saw me he narrowed his eyes in dislike.

“Continue the hunt,” he said. Ruuqo walked slowly away from Ranor and his females, leading us to a different group of elkryn a five-minute walk away.

Again we spread out among the elkryn. This time Ruuqo was closer to me, once again helping Unnan. I walked among the elkryn, finding none that were prey. Finally, as dawn approached, I smelled an elkryn that seemed somehow different. I couldn’t quite tell what it was that made her different, but I drew closer to try to figure out what was wrong with the elkryn. She looked healthy enough. Then I remembered what Rissa had said about how sometimes a prey’s joints will smell sore. That was what it was. There was something about the way the elkryn moved that seemed stiff. That, coupled with the wrongness of her scent, made her prey.

I stalked the weak elkryn, moving slowly until I was close behind her. My heart pounded so hard I thought it had moved directly into my ears. I closed my eyes for just a moment and saw myself leaping up, grabbing the elkryn’s flank, her neck, pulling her down. My muscles bunched and I ran, putting forth a burst of speed that surprised me. The elkryn stumbled and began to run from me. She was afraid, I could smell it. She knew I was hunter, knew I was wolf. My muscles were as smooth as the river and as powerful as the thunder. I felt like I already had the rich flesh in my mouth. “Prey!” I called out to my packmates. “Prey runs!” Deep in my heart I heard howls. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the shapes of my pack. They had acknowledged my choice and chased my prey. I was a hunter. I ran faster and when it looked like I was within range, I leapt.

Suddenly, something that felt like a tree smashed into me, slamming me to the ground. I looked up into Ruuqo’s face. I was strong enough now to struggle to my feet, but he quickly slammed me down again. My back was pinned against the hard ground, and a sharp rock pressed painfully into my hip bone.

“I thought I told you that you were not to hunt.”

“But Rissa told us all to,” I began. “I found good prey.”

“Do not question me.” Ruuqo was immovable. “You can wait and watch.” I waited. I watched as my packmates brought down my elkryn. My first prey. Unnan took credit for selecting it and Ruuqo did not tell anyone that it was mine. I didn’t even try to feed. I didn’t want to know if Ruuqo would push me away. I was too angry and too hurt to care whether or not anyone saw me leave. Tail down, I fled.

I
slowed when I heard Trevegg call my name. I didn’t want to, but he was an elderwolf and was always kind to me. I owed him respect. I was surprised to hear him breathing heavily when he caught up with me. He had been fine earlier when we hunted the elkryn, and I had not had the chance to run far before he called out to me.

“You youngwolves run too fast,” he complained good-naturedly.

I felt a twinge of sadness as I looked at his whitening face and worn-down teeth. I didn’t know what I’d do if he no longer walked with the pack.

“I had to get away,” I said. “I couldn’t stay there while they ate my elkryn.”

“I know,” he said gently. “That is why I came after you. It’s likely that Ruuqo will not ever allow you to hunt, and you must be ready in case that is so.”

“Why?” My anger left me, and hopelessness took its place. “Does he think Borlla’s disappearance is my fault? Does he think I’m bad luck?” I didn’t want to betray Yllin’s confidence, but I had to know.

“He isn’t certain,” Trevegg answered, looking surprised. I was grateful that he didn’t ask me how I knew about the bad luck. “But he doesn’t want to take the chance.”

“I don’t expect him to let me stay in the pack after winter, but why won’t he let me hunt? Why won’t he give me a chance to become wolf?”

“If you hunt successfully and live through the winter, he will have no choice but to grant you romma. If he does so and you are bad luck, you will carry the Swift River scent everywhere you bring your bad luck. It will reflect poorly on him and on the pack. He would rather let you go out without the Swift River mark.” He sighed. “And more than that, you have grown strong. You are the strongest pup in the pack and Ázzuen and Marra follow you. The others might pressure Ruuqo to let you stay in the pack after the winter travels and he does not want that. It would be better for you if you had less strength.”

He touched his nose to my cheek.

“I must return to the pack. You are right to spend some time away. You should think about how you will live your life if I am right.”

“Thank you,” I said. I waited until I could hear Trevegg was on his way back to the plain, and then set out toward the humans.

I stopped at the watch rock nearest the river. It smelled of a dhole that had been there before me. I leapt atop the rock and covered the dhole’s scent with my own. I sat for a moment, thinking about Trevegg’s words. How could I become wolf without Ruuqo’s approval? I took a deep lungful of air, breathing in the birch trees and sloebushes. I closed my eyes halfway, and listened to a lizard scuttling along the rock, the sparrows arguing behind me, the wind in the trees. Then I caught a familiar scent growing closer and heard a rustling from the direction of the Great Plain. My anger flared again. Ázzuen was following me. I stood tall on the rock, waiting for him, looking down at the bushes from which he would have to emerge. I heard him running quickly, and then heard his footsteps slow as he came upon me, hesitating as he realized I had stopped, then moving forward again more quickly. I stayed standing as the low brush parted and Ázzuen’s head, and then the rest of him, emerged. He spoke before I could snap at him.

“I’m coming with you.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” I retorted.

“You’re going to the humans,” he said, “and I’m coming with you.”

I was furious. The hurt and anger of Ruuqo not letting me hunt surged within me and I snarled at Ázzuen. It wasn’t fair that all he had to do to be pack was to muddle along.

“Why don’t you go back and feed on the elkryn?” I snapped. “You could use the weight.”

I expected him to cringe and lower his ears, to be hurt, and a part of me was ashamed. Ázzuen trusted me and followed me, and it was easy for me to hurt his feelings. But I needed him gone. I was surprised when, instead of cowering at my words, he merely sat back and looked at me.

“The humans are
mine,
Ázzuen.” I could hear my voice rising in frustration. “You would’ve let the human girl drown. Can’t you think of anything to do on your own? Leave me alone!”

Ázzuen leapt upon my rock. He wasn’t challenging me, but he wasn’t giving in, either. There was a quietness and certainty in him I’d never seen before.

“I’m going with you, Kaala, or you aren’t going. One howl from me and Ruuqo will be here to stop you. I saw what Ruuqo did and it wasn’t fair. I want to help you. I won’t let you go alone.”

At first I was too shocked to do anything but stare. Then I felt the burning of anger rising in me, warming me, cleansing me. I leapt for Ázzuen, knocking him off the rock and trying to pin him to the ground. He didn’t roll over and give in to me, as I expected. Instead he gave a deep growl and pushed
me
to the ground. For a moment he had me pinned, standing on my chest and looking down at me.

“You’re being stupid and stubborn,” he said. “You can ask for help, you know.”

Furious, I twisted and bit at Ázzuen’s face, bucking to throw him off me. I threw him so hard he hit the watch rock and bounced off it. He leapt to his feet immediately. We stood, a wolflength apart, growling at each other, hackles raised, lips drawn back. I was shocked. I looked at Ázzuen, really looked at him. He was no longer a weakpup. He was almost as big as I was, beginning to deepen through the chest like an adult wolf. He had grown strong and confident while I was sneaking off to see the humans. Shame pressed my ears down. I still saw Ázzuen as the small, scraggly pup he had been many moons ago. But he was not. He was a strong and confident young wolf. And he was my friend. I hadn’t been in a real dominance fight since my battles with Unnan and Borlla when we were smallpups. It would be different now. Pup fights don’t mean much, and the results are not long-lasting. That’s not true, though, once you are past six moons old. I didn’t want my first true dominance fight to be with Ázzuen. Apparently he felt the same way. When he spoke, his voice was gentle.

“I don’t want to fight with you, Kaala. But I won’t let you go alone. Besides,” and now he grinned, his fur settling along his back, “why should you have them all to yourself?”

Relief smoothed the fur upon my own back. I wasn’t ready to lose Ázzuen. The day we would have to sort out our positions in the pack was coming sooner than I’d thought and we would not be the same afterward. I’d always assumed I would be senior to Ázzuen. I had even daydreamed of being a leaderwolf and graciously offering him a position as my secondwolf. I would have to defend him from challenges from stronger wolves, as leaderwolves had done before. A leaderwolf could choose a clever secondwolf even if that wolf was not strong. It never occurred to me that Ázzuen could be a fighter in his own right. As I looked at his bright eyes, sleek coat, and strong shoulders, I was ashamed of how I had thought of him as a pup-forever. I had treated him like a curl-tail and that was wrong.

Ázzuen watched me expectantly.

“If you can keep up,” I said, “you can come.”

With a loud yip, Ázzuen accepted the challenge. We began to race, running toward the river at top speed. When we reached it, we dove in without stopping and swam quickly across. I made it to the other side just a nose ahead of Ázzuen. We stopped to shake the water from our fur. Ázzuen was looking at me good-naturedly. Then I gave him a gentle shoulder slam and licked the side of his face, as I had seen Rissa do to Ruuqo. That stopped him. Leaving him to stand in confusion, I set off toward the humans. After a moment, he followed. Tlitoo, who must have been watching from the trees, flew above us.

“It is not mating time yet, wolflets,” he said.

I winced but Ázzuen grinned at him. Tlitoo cocked his head and looked at me.

“If you are done trying to change what cannot be changed, we have things to do.”

I would have answered him, but Ázzuen increased his pace, challenging me. My fatigue and anger forgotten, I put forth a burst of speed racing Ázzuen to the human homesite.

This time I found Girl right away. During my last visit, I had figured out that the humans separated their gathering place into different areas designed for different tasks. There was a place where they prepared food, a place they worked with skins, a place they made their sharpsticks. Girl was often at a place where things were done with plants. I found her there. This time she was sitting by herself with a pile of river reeds in her lap, deftly bending them together with her agile fingers. Ázzuen’s nose twitched as he took in all the scents of the human homesite, and his ears strained forward so much that they seemed like they would fly off his head. Tlitoo looked like he was considering pulling on one of them. I glared at him and he blinked his eyes at me innocently.

At first I had hoped Ázzuen would get bored and leave, but he was just as fascinated by the humans as I was. Suddenly, I was glad to have him there. Glad to have someone other than Tlitoo to share this experience with. I turned and nuzzled Ázzuen’s cheek. He looked at me in surprise before returning the caress. Tlitoo gurgled a laugh. I ignored him. My heart was warm and full as I watched the girl.

“Stay here,” I told Ázzuen. “You, too,” I said, as Tlitoo raised his wings to follow me. He quorked softly but stayed put.

I padded to the edge of the homesite nearest to where Girl sat, and whined softly to get her attention. It was noisy, and her ears were not as good as a wolf’s, but she heard me. She looked up from her reeds and saw me. She set down her work, brushed her hands against the skin she wore around her middle, and came to me. I couldn’t believe it. When she reached the edge of her home, she looked over her shoulder, then stepped into the trees.

“Hello, Wolf,” she said softly. “You came back.”

I began to leap to greet her as I would a packmate, but she drew back, afraid of me again. She approached me, then, the way an unknown wolf will approach another, tentatively, carefully. Her nostrils flared and she held her arms folded around her. I looked at her. I had understood her when she spoke; maybe she would understand me.

“Would you like to hunt with me?” I asked. I wasn’t really sure if I could hunt anything more than small prey, but maybe she wouldn’t mind. She wrinkled up her face and pressed her hand to her head as if it hurt her. I tried again.

“There is a good mouse place across the river. Would you like to come?” Then I remembered she might be frightened of crossing the river after almost drowning. “Or somewhere else if you like.”

She just stared at me for a moment, then held her hand out, lightly touching my shoulder.

“What do you want, Wolf?” she asked.

She couldn’t understand me. I didn’t know why, since I had no trouble making sense of her speech. Each kind of creature has its own language. But most languages are similar enough that, if we open our minds, we can converse with almost any creature. We most easily speak to those who are close to us in some way. Wolves and ravens hunt together and so we communicate with them effortlessly. And we speak to most hunters easily, though some are so inarticulate as to be incomprehensible. When we talk to prey or rivals, we speak wolf and they speak their own language and we understand as well as we need to. So why couldn’t Girl understand me? I whined in frustration.

“Are you hungry?” she asked. She reached into a pouch looped on a piece of skin around her waist and pulled out a piece of meat. She gave it to me, and I swallowed it in one gulp. It was cooked meat. Unlike the meat Yllin had stolen, it was dry and chewy, like the meat I had seen Tlitoo with. Old meat, but without the sweet decay taste of meat that had been on a carcass for several days. Once I ate dead frog that had sat in the sun for several days before anyone found it. It had a similar taste. But this meat also tasted of fire. It was the best thing I’d ever eaten. The bushes beside me whined indignantly. I glared at the spot where Ázzuen crouched—I realized he must have followed me from the watching place—and turned back to Girl, my mouth watering from the taste of the firemeat. I wanted more. I wanted to stick my nose in her pouch and get the rest of it, but I remembered my manners. I still had not made myself understood, though she seemed less afraid of me.

I took a great chance and took her wrist in my mouth and tugged gently, looking a question at her. Her eyes widened as my teeth touched her skin, but then she allowed me to pull her farther into the woods.

“Wait,” she said. She ran back into the human site and came back carrying a flat piece of folded deerskin over her shoulder and, to my surprise, one of the sharpened sticks the humans carried. Up close I could see that it was not the stick itself that was sharp, but rather a dark stone that was attached to its end. Girl held it confidently, as if she was accustomed to it.

This time when I walked farther into the trees, Girl followed me, placing her warm hand along my back. As soon as we were a few wolflengths away from the gathering place, Ázzuen came cautiously into view.

Girl’s hand tightened in my fur and I could hear her swallow rapidly several times. I pulled away from her to greet Ázzuen so I could show her he was a friend.

“Remember she is afraid of us,” I told him. “Don’t go too close for now.”

Ázzuen dipped his head, keeping his eyes on Girl. Tlitoo landed at our feet.

“I remember you,” she said to the bird. “You are Wolf’s raven friend.”

Tlitoo preened himself. Girl relaxed a bit and looked again at Ázzuen.

“We could take her to the mouse place,” he said.