"You're mine, little one. Mine to kiss, mine to hold, and mine to love. You're my babygirl and no mercy shall come to those who says otherwise."
Having been the sole survivor of her litter, Isla was treasured by the pack that adopted her, and as wel...
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A dead she-wolf laid on a meadow of red poppies, its eyes closed as if it were in a peaceful, dreamless sleep, and curled up at her belly were her five unmoving pups, seeking comfort even in their death, as each had a broken neck whilst their mother sustained bullet holes that still weeped of her blood.
A small pack of wolves looked on from the forest's borders, jumping impatiently from one paw to another as they waited for their alpha's approval to approach. The leader, the largest among them all, brought his nose to the air and inhaled deeply, taking in only the scent of blood, wolfsbane, and death in the air, he gave the clear and watched as four of his wolves immediately run towards the unfortunate family. His two sons stayed at his side, although he could sense their anxiousness from the pack bond as they slowly walked over to the gruesome scene.
All tried to keep their wolves at bay, but the murder of a pup, or pups in their case, was the ultimate sin that not even the Moon Goddess can forgive.
We were too late, papa. His eldest son, Mason, a copper pelted wolf, said dejectedly as he gently nudged one wolf pup in efforts to have a miracle and make it stand up.
The hunters are getting brave. The only theta in their group growled. They know our laws. Pups are sacred gifts from the Moon Goddess, they're deliberately challenging us!
Calm yourself, Victor. Killian, the alpha, commanded and placed his forehead against the neck of the fallen wolf mother in respect.
We will give them a proper ceremony. A tall pyre, so that they'll journey quickly back to the heavens and start anew.
Killian understood their frustration, the choice of having to do nothing to avenge the wolf and her pups, although they weren't one of their own, was a punch to their guts knowing that they were letting their enemies win. But there was nothing they could do more about it.
Each of you take a pup to carry, he commanded, I'll take the mother.
They nodded their heads and gently picked them up one by one and stood obediently in an orderly line as they watched their alpha carefully haul the dead wolf onto his back, and once secured, they begun their trek back home; thinking of how they could've easily saved the family if they were just fast enough to react to the gunshots.
Caleb slugged from behind them, head down as he kept himself from whimpering. It was a sad day for all of them and still being a juvenile himself, this was an ugly truth that life as a werewolf wasn't all sunshines and rainbows.
Caleb! Mason called out. Keep up, little brother.
Quickening his steps, a small whine suddenly stopped him. His drooped ears now stood alert, twitching as it tried to pinpoint where the sound was coming from. Caleb turned around and ignored his pack's hollers for him and sniffed along the ground until in his search, his snout bumped against a soft, fluffy squirming ball. Eyes wide in surprise, it took a moment for Caleb to register that the cream colored pup was indeed moving and alive.
He let out a small howl of triumph and gave the small pup a lick on its head. He smelled it, garnering from its milky, sweet scent that it was a girl, and watched as she moved her small head towards him and released a soft bark that made his young heart melt.
Excited, Caleb delicately grabbed her from the scruff of her neck and presented her to his father.
Such a tiny thing. Killian voiced. The runt of the litter.
The hunters must've not seen her in their hurry. Caleb replied with a wag of his tail.
We almost didn't see her. Mason said. Well done, Caleb.
Caleb acknowledged his older brother's praise with a grin, but was careful to not drop the precious cargo, and looked to his father.
What're we going to do now, papa? We don't know where they came from, we don't know where she belongs. She has no one.
She does. Killian decided and soon declared, a wolf is a wolf, a pack is a pack, and a family is a family. We are one blood and all the same. She'll be ours to care for now.
As if understanding what he was saying, the little she-wolf gave another bark of agreement.
It was a start of something new for her, for all of them, but she didn't belong with them. And that was something they would have to learn to accept in the next sixteen years as he was coming to take what was his.
