Wolves of the Wild (Book 2: Metch)

Chapter 1 (Part 1)

Warm Season

Metch padded out of the Care Place, careful not to wake his mother or sister. I swear I saw a shadow, where did it go? Metch was almost a moon old and not supposed to leave the den for a few more sun-ups, but a shadow had caught his attention at the edge of Camp.

As the limited light from the Empty Moon hit his dark pelt he slipped the last few paw steps out of camp, which is what he could guess because he felt a stronger breeze. Metch didn't worry about any of the other wolves until paw steps sounded behind him.

Belike?
The white pup was climbing through a fern toward him.
"What are you doing?"
She growled. Metch rolled his eyes.
"I just saw a shadow and I wanted to follow it. You can come with me."
Belike looked back inside the camp before looking back at him. Her green eyes sparkled with worry and curiosity.
"Then let's go."
She yipped. She trotted further into the forest, before she suddenly dashed off, seeing a shadow herself. Metch followed after her, trying to keep up.

Eventually, the two pups had followed the shadows to a darker part of the forest, where the moon didn't touch. Finally, Metch spotted a wolf who was sitting alone in a dark clearing. The wolf's black pelt seemed to melt away into the night.
"Hello, young ones."
The black wolf didn't move as he spoke.
"Your adventurous spirits have brought you here this Empty Moon."
Belike pressed her ears back, but Metch pricked his in curiosity.

"Who are you?"
Asked Metch, his excitement at finding something new pumping through his blood.
"I am Razorblood, but you can call me Razor."
As he barked his name, the wolf turned toward the pups. The black wolf had blood red eyes, and they seemed to pierce Metch's soul.

Belike pressed close to Metch.
"We should go back to the den."
She whimpered. Metch ignored her, wonder pricking his fur. Razor heard her whimper, and growled slyly,
"But you don't know where you are young one, how would you get back?"
Belike seemed to hide more but made no move to try and escape.
"You,"
Razor looked at Metch.
"You are fearless. I need that in a wolf."
Razor paused as he began to pad around Metch.
"Your pelt is like mine as well, your white streaks will not be missed."
Razor stopped in front of Metch.
"What pack do you come from?"
"Amber Trees Pack."
Metch answered with confidence. Razor locked eyes with Metch.
"What if I told you evil wolves were about to destroy your pack?"
Metch didn't flinch.
"I'd say we would fight the wolves and win."
"What if I told you that I am an evil wolf?"

This startled Metch. He backed up one paw step and pinned his ears down. Razor then padded closer, and the trees behind Metch seemed to move to block his escape.
"There is no escape. We will flood the forest until the light of hope has been extinguished."
Razor put his muzzle an ear away from Metch's.
"You may as well join us while you still can,"
Razorblood growled.
"Otherwise you'll be snuffed out just like the rest of your foul pack!"

Metch felt uncertain.

My pack will be fine, right?

"Unless I've made a mistake, are you too weak to accept my offer?"

Metch stood up his pelt spiking in annoyance.

"I'm not weak! I accept!"

Lightning flashed, and thunder roared. Yellow eyes appeared all around the three wolves, and there was an excited barking noise coming from them. Razor smirked victoriously.
"Then you have given me permission to possess your body and do what is needed for the future to occur."

Razor then howled and vanished from sight. Metch felt different, then realized he couldn't move.
What's wrong with me?
Razor answered his thought, and his vicious bark sounded in his head.
"You gave me permission, now I control you. But I will not have full control until you are three moons old."