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Mal shook himself off as he walked out into the daylight. It was just past sunrise when he came into the center of the clearing. Mal reached forwards with his front paws, stretching his back as his leader leaped onto the large log at the top of the den. The large, imposing gray wolf, with marks of black speckled along his sides and a graying muzzle, started listing the assignments for today. Unfortunately for Mal, he was one of the youngest, which meant he got the tasks no one else wanted. Although he had a stronger bite than some of the older members, it didn’t matter. He was stuck with cleaning the den and caring for the pups and elders. On top of being young, he was him.
As expected the gray wolf finally looked at Mal and announced, “Pupsitter.” Mal hated this role. He didn’t care for pupsitting, and his leader knew this. He didn’t like cleaning up after the pups and he didn’t like entertaining their silly games. There was only one upside to the burden of pupsitting, Crane. Crane was Mal’s saving grace in this hell of a pack, even if no one could ever know.
Crane was everything Mal wasn’t, he loved caring for the pack, even if they hardly ever paid attention to him; he was always happy to play any game the pups came up with; he never complained when he had to clean up the den from all the pup’s messes; he never complained about anything he was asked to do, especially when Mal knew he would rather be chasing rabbits and deer. Crane lived to serve his pack. Crane was the bar every wolf strives to meet.
Holding on to the thought of spending the day with Crane, Mal walked over to the pup’s area of the den. He poked his head into the cave, lighting up when he saw Crane. His tail wagged against the rock when Crane stood up and began making his way over to Mal. Crane looked around, making sure the other wolves in the pack had cleared out before he pushed his head into Mal’s neck, moving his head up to rest on Mal’s shoulder.
“I’ve missed you,” the albino wolf whispered into Mal’s ear. Mal smiled, his blue eyes lighting up in a way only Crane could make happen, “It’s only been two days since you were last assigned pupsitting duty.” Crane moved his body around to herd Mal into the cave, “I know, but it’s been torture without you. Hunting isn’t fun when I have to spend it ignoring Beetle go on and on about how he is the best stalker in the entire pack.”
Mal followed Crane in, just taking a moment to breathe in his scent, forgetting everything else. The dark tawny wolf plopped down beside the first nest of pups, “At least you get to hunt, the only hunting I get to do is hunting for pups.” Crane laid down, his nose touching Mal’s, in a low voice he whispered, “That’s not true, you hunt all the time.” Mal rolled his eyes, “It’s different when I have to hide the evidence and keep my catch all to myself.”
Crane scoffed at this remark, “You get to share your catch with me.” The white wolf flashed Mal a smug grin, which Mal promptly smooshed with his paw. Crane pushed his face into Mal’s paw, forcing it aside as he nuzzled in Mal’s neck. “Just enjoy this, the time we have right now,” Mal whispered into Crane’s ear. Crane responded by curling his body up alongside Mal’s, turning his gaze to the sleeping pups.
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The next day, assignment had begun once more. Mal had positioned himself across the pack from Crane, keeping the wolf in his peripheral vision as he fixed his gaze on his leader. When the older wolf got to Crane’s name he announced, “Beetle, stalker. Poppy, Ferin, and Crane, chaser. Jupiter, finisher.” And of course, when Odin’s graying muzzle reached Mal, “Pupsitter.” Mal wanted to go and nuzzle against Crane, telling him to be safe, but he knew he couldn’t. Mal watched as the hunting groups left, keeping his gaze especially blank as Crane’s group left the den.
Ruby bounded up beside him, gleeful delight radiated from her. She had just turned a year old a few days ago, this was only her fourth assignment. Mal didn’t want to dampen her spirits, but he really wasn’t in the mood to spend his day with a joyful and energetic wolf. He really just wanted to be with Crane. Early this morning, Mal had accidentally stepped on some herbs the herbalist was trying to preserve, essentially rendering them unusable.
Therefore, he had spent the moments before assignment getting chewed out by the herbalist and then by Odin. And on top of that, after the hunters, scouts, and foragers get back, late this evening, Mal has to go out and replace the herbs he ruined. He had looked forward to talking with Crane, knowing he would make all this better, but now he has to wait until sunset to even get a glimpse of him, and even longer until Mal can talk to him.
Ruby doesn’t seem to notice his bad mood though. She’s talking about some odd looking sparrow she ate for her meal yesterday. She’s saying something about the beak being curved, but honestly Mal wasn’t listening. The pair entered into the cave, where 3 of the pups had already awoken and were wrestling in the center. Mal chose a spot in the corner, where he could just lay down and watch the pups play.
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The sun slowly started to set as the red and orange hews hit the cave wall. Mal got up, shaking the feathers from his pelt, and made his way out into the den. Mal’s ears perked up as Poppy and Jupiter walked in dragging a small deer. A few long moments passed then Beetle walked in. Then Ferin walked in. Mal waited, and waited, hoping to at least get a glance of Crane before the mothers came and "relieved" Mal of his pupsitting duties, but he didn’t come in. Worry started to gnaw on his gut, and Mal walked over to where Poppy and Jupiter had laid the deer. “Where’s Crane?” Jupiter looked away, focusing on a rock laying on the floor, and Poppy looked to the side, avoiding Mal’s gaze. “What happened? Where is he?”
Poppy finally spoke up, “He’s not here.” Mal felt the worry in his gut twist into fear, “What do you mean he’s not here? Where is he?” Poppy looked at Jupiter, as if willing the wolf into finishing the story for her. Jupiter wouldn’t meet her eyes. Poppy took a deep breath, “We were chasing the deer, and….” The amber wolf shook her head, flicking her black tipped ears, “The ground just went out from underneath him. He- he didn’t make it.”
Mal’s world bottomed out from underneath him. “No, no. He’s got to be okay. He has to be. Did you check on him? Where were you? He’s okay. He’s okay.” Mal kept whispering those words to himself, He’s okay, because a world where Crane isn’t okay doesn’t make sense, it doesn’t exist. Mal doesn’t wait for an answer, running to the exit to the den and searching for Crane’s scent. The sun has baked away a majority of the scent, the wind and shade pulling what’s left into the corners and crevices of the rocks, but Mal would know Crane’s scent anywhere, even if it was just the tiniest whiff.
Mal raced through the trees, only stopping when the sunny patches stole the scent into the sky. He raced down the creek bed, leaping over fallen logs and large rocks, stopping in his tracks when the metallic smell of blood overtook his nose. The fear in his body turned to ice, Mal tried to move his body but he had lost feeling in his paws. He inhaled again, the scent pummeling the back of his head once more, forcing him forward as he came to the edge of a ravine. At the bottom of the ravine, lay a mangled red and white figure. Mal’s whine caught in his throat. It couldn’t be Crane, it’s not the right shape. It has to be….Mal couldn’t think of anything else that has that beautiful white fur, now stained with the brownish-red of old blood.
Mal looked around for a way to get down because as much as he wanted to jump over the edge, some survival instinct reminded him not to. He found a steep path a few tail lengths away that he could slide down. His pads scraped against the dirt, rocks and sticks jabbing him every couple of heartbeats, but he just felt numb, the pain felt like it belonged to someone far away.
He got to the bottom of the ravine and sniffed the air. Underneath the sharp stabbing of blood, he could smell something familiar. Mal felt the grief choke him from his throat down to his lungs. It couldn’t be. He is supposed to be okay. He can’t not be okay. It’s not him. It’s not him. Mal rushed forwards to the broken wolf, feeling saliva coat his mouth as he saw the wolf’s mangled body. Its leg was bent in an unnatural way and its head was turned too far back, eyes staring at nothing. Mal stared at those eyes. He stared at the fur and at the muzzle. Mal felt the world around him go dark. He crumbled beside the wolf, knowing in his heart it was Crane, knowing there was nothing he could do to make Crane okay, knowing nothing would be okay again.
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Mal doesn’t know how long he laid down next to Crane. He had wrapped himself around the cold body, trying his hardest to bring some warmth back to the wolf he once knew. He lay there, knowing there was nowhere else for him to go, knowing he would rather die there than leave him. Mal lay there protecting Crane until the sun and disappeared into the horizon. He lay there as the stars came out, shining brightly on the two wolves in the ravine. He lay there as his eyes grew heavy. He lay there as his body gave in, drifting off to sleep.
Mal awoke to teeth in his neck, dragging him away from the wolf beside him. He lashed around, trying to bite his attacker, when the image of grey fur caught in his peripheral. Mal felt his body get thrown into the side of the ravine, his head hitting a rock as pain pressed into his head, blurring his vision. “What do you think you’re doing?” a deep voice growled from somewheres in front of Mal. He got up and righted himself, trying to push through the fog of just having been woken up. As his mind cleared, and he took in the scene around him, Crane’s body forced reality back into focus. The grief nearly took Mal off his feet, but by some miracle, he kept standing. He raised his head, looking Odin in the eyes.
“I said, what are you doing?” Odin growled as he took a step towards Mal. Mal felt his body choke up as he tried to form the words, “I- I came to check- I came to check on Cr–” “Did you at least have the common sense to replace the herbs you ruined before you decided to waste the pack's time taking a nap?” Mal looked down at his paws, he hadn’t gathered any herbs, but a wolf just died, Crane just died, surely herbs aren’t what’s important right now. Beetle stepped up behind Odin, “I told you he was a queer.” Mal’s head shot up. Crane and I are so careful, how did any wolf notice?
“I’m not- Why would you say that?” Mal said as he stammered for a response, playing through the past few months, trying to figure out how someone knew. Beetle turned his head up in a laugh, “Oh yeah, totally not, you just decided to abandon your pack for some nobody.” Odin has his gaze locked on Mal, “I have given you so many chances, but each time you choose yourself over your pack. I’m done. The pack is done.” Odin turned around, “Come with me,” and when Mal didn’t follow the gray wolf turned around, grabbing Mal by the scruff once more and started dragging him up the ravine.
Mal tried to fight back, he tried to pull away. He didn’t want to go back. He didn’t want to go back to the pack who hated him. He didn’t know how to survive it without Crane. He didn’t want to leave Crane’s body here, for the buzzards to pick him clean. But then Mal felt teeth slice into his neck, and he looked down to see a small drop of blood fall to the ground. That sharp metallic scent made him freeze in his tracks, and a final tug from Odin forced his legs forwards, habitually following the leader’s command.
When the wolves had reached the den, Odin ordered Mal to sleep outside, in the center, as punishment for his discretions against the pack. Which ones he was referring to, Mal didn’t know. He just knew after half a night of sleeping on the rocky ravine floor, and the rest of the night spent cold in the open, he was going to have a hell of a morning.
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When the sunrise peaked over the den the next morning, Mal felt every bone and muscle in his body ache. At first he was confused as to why he was sleeping outside, but within seconds of waking up, last night’s event came back to him. He curled up tighter, trying to will himself back into the dreamless peace he had come from. He wanted to go back into the world where Crane had never died, back into the world that hadn’t fallen apart on him.
But that attempt died as he heard paw steps coming out of Odin’s cave across the clearing. Mal opened his eyes and shook himself off, preparing to face whatever punishment Odin decides to give him. Although, Mal can’t remember any wolf in his lifetime who had broken the rule Mal did. Odin walked up beside Mal, barely looking at him as he said, “Come with me.”
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The two wolves walked for what felt like hours. The farther they got away from the ravine, the more Mal’s heart ached to turn around. He knew Crane wasn’t there anymore. He knew it was just a shell of the wolf he loved, but a shell was all that was left of him. As the sun rose high into the sky, Mal began to notice signs of other wolves, the smell of unfamiliar packs, the sound of paw steps in the distance. Before he knew it, the pair had come into a clearing, much larger than the one in the den, full of other wolves. All different colors and smells, colors Mal hadn’t even realized a wolf could come in.
Mal followed as Odin brought him to a cluster of other wolves in the center, “Stay here,” the older wolf ordered, the only words Odin had spoken to him since they left the den. Mal watched as Odin took his place across the clearing, lining up with the other wolves. An old piebald wolf with a dalmatian pattern across his brown and black spots stepped towards Mal’s group of wolves. He pointed his muzzle at the wolf closest to him, “This wolf’s leader, come forward.”
A smaller white wolf with black tipped ears and black paws stepped forwards, the older wolf nodded his head, “Please list your wolf’s attributes and your price.” Price? What does he mean price? The younger wolf turned around to face the pack of wolves behind her, “He is a generation 2, 6 month old male, with a knack for strength related tasks and he has a tier 8 marking, an Ebony Agouti. He is priced at 100 silver cones.”
Mal had no idea what any of those words meant. He just stared as the wolves in front of her began to murmur amongst themselves. After a moment, a large auburn wolf stepped forwards and handed silver pieces to the white and black wolf. The older piebald wolf who had spoken first ushered the young wolf in Mal’s group across the clearing to the auburn wolf with the silver pieces. Mal watched as wolf after wolf, from wolves 2.5 months old to 6 years old went from his group to a wolf across the clearing, from as little as 2 silver cones to 2,000 silver cones.
Eventually the old wolf came to Mal, and he watched as Odin stepped forwards, “He’s a Tawny Warm Medium Tier II with one Tier 2 marking, Honey Cougar, and three Tier 3 markings, Losna Aurora, Black Wraith, and Clover Ornate Stripes. He is proficient in pupsitting. Priced at 15 SC.” Mal looked around as the wolves in front of him chattered, the pack had dwindled since the event first started. Finally a snow colored wolf with subtle gray patches on her back, tail, and face stepped forward to meet Odin.
Mal didn’t need the older wolf to tell him, he knew he was supposed to meet the wolves in the center. As Mal neared the pair, he heard Odin quietly tell the gray wolf in front of him, “I wouldn’t feel right selling him to you without telling you.” Odin took a deep breath and lowered his voice, “I’m selling him because he is a queer. I caught him grieving another male like a damned bitch.” Mal watched as the gray wolf’s face flared with a hint of anger as she registered what Odin had said, “Well it’s a good thing I’m getting him off your hands then.” Turning to Mal she said, “Come with me now.”
Mal followed the gray wolf as she made her way through the crowd, pushing through the remaining wolves and making her way to the edge of the forest. Mal was just a step behind her, keeping his head down. He knew he was hers now, that she was his new leader, but it still didn’t feel that way. Surely you couldn’t just trade wolves as if they were items, as if they were carcasses or herbs. But that’s just what happened.
“What’s your name? Mine’s Rayn.” Mal almost didn’t hear her, he was surprised for a moment. He honestly didn’t expect this wolf to care. She just bought him like he was a product to be traded, surely she couldn’t care about him as an individual. He realized he had waited a few beats too long, “Mal.” Rayn just nodded her head and continued to walk in silence.
Mal wasn’t paying attention to where they were, where they were going, or how far away they were. He kept replaying the last time he saw Crane, the last time you saw him alive a tiny voice whispered. If only he had told him bye, if only he had nuzzled his head into his shoulder one last time. Realistically, Mal knew no matter what he did, the ground would’ve given way under Crane anyways, but he couldn’t help but wonder if he had delayed the hunting party from leaving, would it have been the prey that fell, not Crane?
The longer they walked, the heavier the grief became. It felt like Mal was being split into two, starting with the open chasm in his heart. He looked up at the trees, finally registering the height of the trees around him. They were so much larger than any trees he had seen in the glacier or the tundra, even though his experience outside of the den was limited.
Mal began to smell the scent of other wolves as they neared the sound of running water. Rayn slowed beside him, “My pack is fairly small right now, so I hope that makes it less overwhelming. I’ll give you a few days to settle in, then we’ll discuss your place in the pack.” The pair stepped into the den where a white wolf sunbathed on the rock in the center and 3 pups were wrestling in the corner with a sandy colored wolf watching them.
“There on the rock is Frost, my deputy, if you have any questions or issues, and you can’t find me, you can go to her.” She turned to face the sandy wolf in the corner, “And over there is Kein. Don’t worry about names too much right now, just focus on learning your way around. I’m going to pair you with one of our scouts once they come pack so they can teach you the ins and outs of our territory. But right now I’m sure you’re tired from traveling all day, why don’t you go choose an empty nest and rest.”
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A few months have passed since Mal first came to Rayn’s pack. He opened up to her about what his previous pack had been like, and she assured him she would never let anything like what Odin did happen to him again. A new wolf around his age, Luna, came into the pack a few days after Mal did. She was a scout and he was a hunter, a finisher just like he always wanted, but still they became close friends. He told her about Crane, it was nice to have someone else know the Crane he did.
Still, he wishes so much that he and Crane had just left together. They knew other packs existed, but both of them thought all packs were like there’s. Mal had known he didn’t like living under Odin, but he didn’t know there were better options. He hated how isolated Odin kept his pack. He learned from Rayn that often leaders will take a few wolves with them to those trading gatherings, but Odin never did. He never told anyone where he went when he would disappear for the entire day.
Mal was sure no wolf in his previous pack, at least those born into the pack, knew about silver cones, and those who did weren’t allowed to mention them. If he had known there were packs like Rayn’s, he would’ve gotten Crane to leave with him. Still, the pain hurts like a fresh cut every time he wakes up and realizes Crane isn’t in the cave with him. It hurts every time the image of his mangled body shoves its way inside his head…..but he feels happy too sometimes. Even in a world without Crane, for once in Mal’s life, he feels truly happy to call his pack family.