2 Wolf Song (1/2)
A shadow moved through the nighttime woods, sliding with ease between the sturdy young oaks in this part of the wilderness. Moonlight slipped through the leafy canopy, reflecting off the occasional rock that poked through the ground here and there. The shadow avoided those pockets of luminescence without even thinking about it.
Little Wolf traveled by instinct, his paws barely touching the ground. His mind was unable to truly focus on his surroundings.He hadn't wandered these woods since the night his mother died a year ago. Memories of his dad's desperate howl, his mother's mangled body, filled his mind. He headed deeper into the woods, where the hardwoods grew bigger and the underbrush was less pervasive.
There was a way to move through the nighttime forest that his dad simply referred to as gliding- an easy loping pace, low to the ground. Ghosting, Mom had called it, flitting like a free-moving spirit wisping through the trees.
Are you ghosting with me now, mom?
A silver streak flashed in his periphery, making him lose his stride for a moment. His dad would have his hide for getting distracted. Little Wolf glanced around, hoping to catch another glimpse of whoever was in the forest with him tonight. It couldn't have been his dad, whose fur was a solid black.
A sad, long, drawn-out howl had him gathering speed, all of his senses straining forward.
He sought the hills and ridges above the river, not too far from where his mom's life had ended. He had to smile, his canines glistening in the moonlight, as he caught his cousin's scent. It was the way among his mother's people for a young man to spend the night alone in the forest to seek his spirit helper through dreams. For his cousin to choose tonight of all nights...
As much as he had enjoyed spending the last month with his cuz, he missed his dad's companionship. It had become common for his dad to take off for a night or two since his mom's death, but this last time he hadn't come back. The level of grief he had just heard in his dad's howl made him wonder if he would be able to break through his dad's suffering enough to bring him home.
Another howl off to his left, announcing the presence of another wolf, made him pick up his pace. A third howl from behind him sent chills up his spine. This was his family's territory. There hadn't been any normal, regular wolves around here for a long time. Dad had always kept the area well marked.
Little Wolf kept waiting to hear a response from his dad. He heard the hoot of an owl, the breeze along the trees, but nothing from his dad. Little Wolf sought higher ground, moving around the gullies that would slow him down. His paws scrabbled against the loose pebbles underfoot.
Two more howls, and then another, quickly followed by three more. Little Wolf altered his path, headed unerringly to the spot he knew his cousin would have gone to begin his spirit journey. He sprinted, claws scrambling, toward the place where his mother, River Woman, had breathed her last. He wasn't going to let his cousin alone with a real wolf pack around, no matter the spiritual importance of his cousin's solitary journey into the wilderness.
He let out a call of his own, two attention-getting yaps followed by his own short howl as he caught a stronger, fresher whiff of his cousin's scent. Come on, Dad, he thought, you have to know he's here. I can't protect him from a whole wolfpack on my own! He came to a sudden stop, snout to face with the son of his mother's brother.
I think I just scared ten years growth out of you, cuz, Little Wolf thought with a hint of a grin.
The two stared at each other a moment, man and beast, when they were both startled by a humorous snort coming from the rise above them. Little Wolf sat back on his haunches, wagging his tail at the big black shadow that separated itself from a nearby bush. Eyes that reflected the moonlight stared down at them. His dad only showed himself briefly before sliding back out of view.
Really Dad?