They were calling for him.

“Lupe.”

He groaned. Why did they have to pester him? He just wanted to sleep, sleep forever.

“Lupe!”

Lupe opened his eyes. They were so heavy, like the iron gates to a stronghold of men. He blinked rapidly, allowing his old pupils to adjust to the moonlit darkness. A small group of wolves lay close together in the soft summer grass. The Council had gathered under a star-strewn sky.

“What?” he grumbled grudgingly, showing his yellowed fangs. His muzzle rested on his paws, and he didn’t bother raising his head.

“Your vote is needed.” The voice was impatient now, but respectful all the same.

“On what?”

The counsel growled displeased, and the brown male who had spoken whipped his tail at him. “Momo,” he said. “What else?”

“What has he done now? Scared another of his fellow wolfs for no good reason? Chased down another bull by himself?” Lupe laughed through his throat at that last memory. It was one of his favourites.

“No. His unusual aggression has already been discussed. We want you to weigh in on his refusal to lead.”

“He has been refusing for two summers. Must we discuss this again?”

“Yes!” snarled a grey female across from him. “It’s different now. He has beaten Taga in the Hunt. He has proven his prowess as the best hunter in the pack. The Laws dictate that he must lead.”

“Aah,” Lupe sighed, “Yet he still refuses.”

“It is unheard of!”

“Maybe it wouldn’t be, if you had heard all the tales that were ever told,” Lupe said cryptically.

A surprised murmur passed through the circle of wolves.

“You say this has happened before?” asked the brown beside him.

“No, I was being theoretical.”

The gray female barked at him. “Lupe, old fool! Why do you defend him? He is arrogant, reckless, and irresponsible!”

“The privileges of youth, mistaken for vices by the elder.” He raised his head from his paws and cast his gaze around the Counsel.

“It is not arrogance, it is honesty; not recklessness, but confidence in his strength and skill. As for irresponsible, I believe he would define his duties differently than we would.

“Besides, if he is all you accuse him to be, then why name him pack leader?”

“You know the Laws, Lupe,” the brown wolf growled, “The best hunter, the strongest wolf, leads the pack.”

“And how does Taga see all this?” Lupe asked, addressing a huge black she-wolf to his left.

The mass of fur and muscle parted to reveal bright yellow eyes and long white teeth. “Momo may be the strongest wolf in the pack. The best hunter, he is not. He has no restraint, no patience, and much to learn, still.”

Lupe laughed in his throat. “He will not learn patience until he learns failure, and he will not know failure for many summers and winters to come.”

“What do you suggest, then?” The grey female sneered, “That the Council waits for Momo to change his mind at his own leisure?”

Taga scoffed, “Unlikely.”

“I will speak with him,” Lupe said, “And I vote that we conclude this gathering so I… we can sleep in peace.” He lay his head back on his paws and closed his eyes.

Taga rose slowly and stepped past him. “You envy him for his strength, eh, old one?”

“Do you not?”

Lupe lay on his back in the thick summer grass. The hot sun burned his belly like the pleasant sting of a she-wolf’s claws, but his body was too old to be roused by the memory of sensations long gone.

Instead, he dreamt of thick, dark forests, rich with the scents of pine, water, and meat. There was prey in these woods, prey aplenty, unaware of the hunter in their midst.

His eyes found the hidden tracks, the broken branches and dented earth. His ears caught the short, fearful breaths of the nervous plant eaters and the rabid thumping of their hearts. They knew there was danger. There was always danger.

But not for him. For he was the danger.

He stopped at the edge of the undergrowth. On the other side, only inches away, a doe was nibbling at the juicy leaves. She was alert, but couldn’t know he was there. The wind was in his favour, and he hadn’t made the slightest of sounds.

He crouched. His muscles tensed. His claws dug into the earth for traction.

It was too easy. He would warn her, give her a chance.

He growled softly. The doe’s head jumped up, ears perked to trace the sound. He waited until her eyes found him. When her gaze found his, he could almost taste her fear.

He struck.

And the smell of blood flooded his senses.

And he woke.

The dream faded like morning mist before an autumn breeze, but the smell of blood lingered.

“Dreaming of the Hunt, old warrior?” barked a cheerful voice.

Lupe rolled onto his feet and saw the tracks he’d made as his body had mimicked the moves of the dream. He looked up at a proud young wolf, his summer fur shining in all shades of black, brown, and white.

“Aye,” Lupe sighed, “I can still smell the kill, too. I truly am getting old, Momo.”

“Your senses do not betray you, Lupe. Today the pack feasts.”

Lupe allowed his eyes to follow the warm scent of meat.

Where the edge of the forest met the foot of the hill he and Momo stood on, dozens of wolves crowded around four fresh carcasses.

“Come,” Momo said, and he guided Lupe to his own kill. The other wolves parted to give them first pick, and they tore at the flesh until they could eat no more. When they left, a thin, tawny female took their place, unchallenged by the others. Lupe took no notice. His mind was full with the satisfaction of a full belly, and his eyes were searching for a nice spot to lie down.

They traced their steps back to where Lupe had been sleeping. The hill looked out over both the forest and the river bank where the pups and young were playing.

They sat down on their hind legs, but still Lupe had to look up at Momo. The great young wolf’s eyes were dark but bright, his nose glistened, and his ears twitched at sounds far beyond Lupe’s range of perception.

“A bountiful hunt,” said Lupe.

“A fun chase, too.”

“Chase? Didn’t Taga lead the hunters for an ambush?”

“She did, but only to get the first two. I chased the herd to get two more.” Momo barked happily.

“You managed to get two kills after scaring the herd?”

“Oh, no, the kills weren’t mine.” The young wolf grinned wide, showing his powerful jaws. “I bit through their hind legs as I passed them. Would’ve gotten another too if I hadn’t been called off.”

“No restraint,” Lupe muttered. “No patience.”

“Hmm?”

“Nothing,” Lupe dodged. “Still, I know Taga wouldn’t allow you to chase a herd by yourself. So you ignored at least one command, but eventually you listened.” He waited for Momo to nod before he continued. “At what point do you stop? When you know you cannot push any farther?”

“Ha, who said Taga called me off? She didn’t.” He barked defiantly. “She doesn’t.”

Lupe frowned and lowered his head to look past Momo at the pack. Taga lay beside her own kill, snapping lazily at the raw meat. Several males circled around her, trying to get as close as possible, pleading permission to eat with her, seeking acknowledgement as suitable mates. She ignored them.

The same was happening around the other females, who allowed the males to court them, to sniff and nudge and bite them.

All but one.

The tawny female that had taken their place at Momo’s kill, was left to herself. No other wolf came near her. They did not ignore her, Lupe saw, but they kept their distance, casting only careful glances her way. She ate in peace, undisturbed by the lack of attention.

Something clicked in Lupe’s old mind.

“She is yours,” he said.

“I am hers,” Momo answered, completing the traditional oath.

“The council will not approve.”

“Their approval is not required.”

“You know what is needed of you.”

“I will do what is needed.” Momo looked at him. There was no humour in his eyes. “But nothing more.”

He diverted his attention to the pups on the river bank for distraction.

“Taga will not be pleased.”

“She will find her pleasure elsewhere. She has enough suitors.”

Lupe looked back at the frail she-wolf. “What does she- What does Ska say of this?”

“I am hers,” said Momo, his eyes defiantly fixed on the pups playing near the creek. “That is enough.”

“And are you prepared to claim her?” The old wolf’s voice, thick with meaning, pulled Momo’s gaze back toward the pack, toward Ska.

One of the males who had been fruitlessly courting Taga, now edged toward Ska, his fangs bare. His aggression was palpable, and obviously meant to impress Taga by driving the weaker female away from her unrightful place at the carcass.

Anger flashed across Momo’s face. A rumbling growl started deep in his chest and erupted in a vicious roaring bark. The entire pack froze. Some of the smaller pups whined, and the aggressive male withdrew quickly.

Ska stood and swiftly caught up with the retreating male. She brushed soothingly against him as she passed, and made for the river bank. And the pack resumed its rhythm.

“She is wise,” Lupe said.

“There was no need for appeasement,” Momo growled with heaving chest and flaring nostrils.

Lupe’s tail lashed at the younger wolf. “Don’t be childish. You haven’t openly courted her, let alone claimed her, even though the Council will obviously match you with Taga. And yet you bully away her suitors.” His eyes narrowed and his voice became a whisper. “Why the subtlety? What is it you fear?”

Momo’s head snapped around, snarling.

“I needn’t fear anything!”

“And yet, you do,” Lupe answered calmly, unimpressed. “You know the Council will step in eventually. They are old and stiff, not mentally challenged.”

“Old and stiff sounds a lot like dead to me.”

“The dead are to be respected.”

“But not obeyed.”

“The lessons they leave us are.”

Momo scoffed, but had no answer. His eyes sought Ska. She was scolding the pups who’d strayed too far or played too rough, before nursing them lovingly. When she caught Momo and Lupe staring at her, she nudged the pups away from her, and started for the hill.

Momo felt his anger evaporate.

“It’s the Council,” he said, softly, as if to admit it was to make it real, to give it power. “They must accept the compromise, and for that I need your silver voice. You can influence them like I cannot.”

Their eyes locked.

“You have it,” Lupe said, and pointed his nose downhill.

Momo bowed his head, and sprang away. He met Ska halfway down the hill in two leaping bounds. They passed each other in slow motion, rubbing against each other from head to tail. Then Momo ran at the pups that had followed Ska, playfully herding them back to their place at the river bank. Whenever a pup tried to escape beyond the imaginary boundary, Momo came snarling and howling to chase it back.

Lupe sighed dramatically.

“The privileges of youth…”

Ska sat down beside him, and they watched them play. Momo, the big, powerful hunter, chasing the tiny, clumsy pups.

“He is yours,” Lupe said.

“I am his.”

“He will be a good mate. The pups adore him.”

“They do, maybe more than anyone else in the pack,” Ska said, her voice soft.

“Only because he never scolds them. Everything is a game with Momo. There is still much of the pup he was in his heart.”

“Many in the pack love him for that exact same reason. I even know of an old wolf who has a soft spot for him.”

Lupe smiled faintly. “He’s a good soul.”

“He’s a stray soul. If not for his strength, he’d be a lost soul.”

Lupe’s ears twitched at the sudden edge in her voice. Slowly, his other senses caught up to the scene before him, and he knew that he had misjudged her.

Ska’s body was thin, but her fur was healthy and her muscles wiry and strong. She stood no higher than his own old shoulders, but her stance was confident and calculated. His nose suddenly picked up the scent of a virile she-wolf, and for the first time he noticed a glint of cold reason behind the warmth of her tawny eyes.

“He is yours,” he whispered, and this time it meant something else.

“He is mine,” said Ska.