Wolves and Men

As he looked out over his family, he raised his head and once again howled in triumph to the night sky. His pack joined him in his celebration and the sound of wolves was the only sound anything in the valley could hear. Birds took flight and deer fled from their places. Rabbits and squirrels ran for their various burrows and the coyotes huddled close together.

This valley was his and his pack’s. Wolves ruled here, now and forever.

He lowered himself on all fours and looked over his pack. They all watched him. The night was almost over and he couldn’t let his pack see him change back into his frail human form. He looked at each one of his pack mates in turn and his eyes fell on two adolescent males. They were both grey with some black strips, their golden eyes shone in the reflected moonlight, brothers. He looked at them as they panted still trying to recover from the long run.

He hadn’t seen these two cubs before and he was stricken with how frail they looked, how much they still depended on their mother who stood just behind them. When will the son become the father and his circle close? He wasn’t sure and he wondered if he would ever have children of his own. Not with these animals, proud and noble though they were. But there was nothing for him in the human world either. He was a freak not meant to undertake the ritual of parentage. Besides, how could he pass on this gift that, with the wrong person, would almost certainly cause unlimited suffering for those around him? And that would be just one more thing that he would have live with. One more mistake, one more misjudgment that had caused so much pain even in his somewhat short life.

He pried his interested eyes away from the two pups and continued to survey his pack. These wolves were strong, and they had never had any history of upheaval. In fact, in the history of the pack told by the old ones, his coming to this valley was the first event of some significance to happen for eons. As his eyes slid off the last wolf in the group, he readied his last command of the night. He had made the command every time he changed but seeing them go never got any easier. His wolves always seemed so dejected, and their tails would hang low. Even though he tried to brace himself for the unfair guilt trip dumped on him time and again by his pack, time and again he died just a little on the inside. He knew what the pack expected of him and the worst knot of guilt he suffered from these days was that he couldn’t run, or hunt, or lead his pack all the time. His kingship was measured in single nights not consecutive days. Sometimes he thought horrible things such as some massive predator would break into the valley and he would not be around to protect his pack, though his pack would wait for him and they would line up for the slaughter, scanning the hillside for their alpha that would never come.

But those were nightmares and horrible daydreams. He breathed a deep breath and barked out twice. At the sound of his command all the wolves looked up at him with wide, shocked eyes. He didn’t allow his eyes to drop away from the betrayed looks he now received, and he repeated his two barks.

Minutes rolled by the lunar mother continued her unstoppable decent below the horizon and just like every other night he was forced to stare down his pack and by sheer force of will force them to disperse through the valley.

One-by-one the wolves turned from their places on the hill top and began their long slow march back to their den. He watched as each and every wolf of his pack stared at him as if to ask, “Why are you sending us away? What did we do wrong?” A question asked but could never be answered, a question that broke his heart not to be able to answer. He wanted them to understand who and what he was, but his fear of them not understanding and attacking him while he was human was more than enough of a fear driven incentive to remain silent to the accusatory, cold stares of his pack.

When the last wolf had turned away and disappeared into the tree line he stood up on his hind legs and dropped his head and breathed heavy, ragged breaths. Sometimes withstanding those cold stares, where once they were warm and welcoming, was almost too much for him to bear.

He lowered himself on all fours and took off at full speed away from the retreating members of his pack. He rushed along the ridgeline. He glanced beside him, and the lunar mother was already touching the horizon and sinking lower by the second. He pushed himself to run faster. Not only was he racing against the moonset, but he was also racing against being followed by his pack. He had taken too long on this night and now he was paying for it.

At a unique pairing of two white pine trees, he turned and dove down the slope of his valley. The sky was already well lit with the dawn, and he had no trouble seeing possible obstacles. He pushed himself to reckless speeds as he crashed down the slope. He had to get to his burrow beneath the redwood before the sun set.

It was there that he lived and for some reason after he changed, and his wolf form was taken away from him he was always drained and was extremely vulnerable. It took him a day or more sometimes to fully recover and for that time he was weak as a newborn and twice as helpless. No one lived in his valley to protect him from harm. While he was a wolf, he was the king of the valley, but as a human he was just as susceptible to attack and being killed as any creature.

He crashed through the ground shrubs, thundering over and through the dead pine needles that was the forest floor. He should be there by now, where was it? And then he spotted the old redwood. In his haste he had veered off target, but he quickly turned and kicked off the ground toward his haven. He raced around the base of the tree to the hidden portal and just as he felt the lunar mother wane, he tumbled through the passage in the depression that made up his home. He was able to turn just in time to hide the portal from being seen and with that, the last of his mother’s sway vacated. He fell backwards blacking out before he hit the soft dirt floor.