Luna the Lone Wolf

by Forest Wells

  “They're baaaaaaaack,” I said.

  “They?” Estrella asked.

  “Humans. They come every year to hunt, much of it wolves. They have some kind of thunder stick that kills whatever it’s pointed at.”

  Estrella rose, though her ears kept searching.

  “You sound like you know a lot about them.”

  “I should. They build their dens not too far from mine.”

  Estrella’s ears and eyes shot up. “What?!”

  I ruffed a stifled laugh. I shouldn’t enjoy the moment, but it felt so good.

  “Relax,” I said. “They don't know I'm there. I’ve watched them each time, with a fair amount of humor, I might add. I’ve never seen animals act so strangely.”

  Sharp whistles mixed with barks in the same direction as the thunder. The barks sounded oddly wolf-like this year, but their presence at all held more of my attention. I stepped toward the barks to get a better sense of where they were. I didn’t like the answer I got.

  “Grab what you can carry,” I said. “They brought dogs again. Not much for fighting, but they lead the humans to their prey. I’d rather they not find us here.”

  “I’d rather they not find us anywhere,” Estrella said.

  “Never, never find wolves here,” the bird sang over head. “Luna, Luna, never near.”

  “He always do that?”

  “Constantly,” I said.

  Despite my best efforts to shut him up.

  We pulled what meat we could from the kill before retreating to my den. There we ate our fill in blessed silence and refreshing company.

  I couldn’t deny, it felt good to have another wolf around, even if she was crazy. I watched Estrella break a bone open for the marrow and wondered: just what was it about me that held her interest? She’d mentioned admirable traits, but enough to chase after me in the hopes of mating? The best question was mine, really. Do I want her?

  Despite only being a moon or two behind me, Estrella seemed younger than her years, perhaps a little naïve, and definitely talkative. Still, she had fire I could admire. I wasn’t sure about mating, but if she’d accept a place under me in a pack, I could see it working out well. Who knows? Maybe something would develop.

  My ears turned back as I finished what my stomach would allow. Maybe something would develop? Wishful thinking and I knew it. It would never work. I was a lone wolf while Estrella was destined to be pack beta, if not alpha once she realized her own power. We’d never mix. Even if we did... we just wouldn’t. Another lie? I didn’t bother answering.

  We stashed the remainder of our haul in the same old hollow under an oak tree I’d used over the years. Not that I had much to add this time. With two wolves feeding off the same portions of the kill, there was barely a snack left. Better than nothing, I suppose.

  I returned to my den to find Estrella sniffing around it. I tilted my head, trying to understand why. When she saw me, she ruffed in amusement and looked at the rock pile.

  “Not too bad,” she said. “Although I somehow expected better. Seems like you could manage more than a cave inside a rock pile.”

  My eyes rolled. Here we go again. “It keeps me warm and safe. I need little more from a den.”

  “What about yourself? How little have you allowed there?”

  “How little have I allowed? I’ve had to fight for every scrap I can find, alone. I’d hardly say I’ve allowed or not allowed anything.”

  “Yet you continue to live alone. Don’t you get lonely out here?”

  A great sigh was followed by a greater growl. What a stupid question. Of course I was lonely. That’s the whole point of being a lone wolf. No pack, no family, no anyone. Just you, your fangs, your kills, and there is no way to change or overcome it.

  The pain of that fact kept me from looking at her, as did my failing hold on my temper. Both combined made it near impossible to find anything to say. I searched the dimming sky for the moon, hoping, praying there’d be enough to brighten my hackles tonight. After the day I’d had, I needed something to relax me.

  Estrella stepped up to my side and gave me a short nuzzle. “That bad, huh? I understand. You've been alone for three years. It's natural to feel lonely. It hurts when you're thrust from everyone you love.”

  “Silence!” I snapped, reaching my limit. “You think you know me? You think you understand what I’ve been through? My own father drove me away when I was just a pup. My pack has disowned me. Every pack in sprinting distance knows who I am and shuns me for it. You don’t know me. You never will.”

  Estrella started to growl, then she swallowed it, although she couldn’t stop her ears from coming forward, matching my challenge. “Because you won’t let me. I don’t care what others think. I’m here for you.”

  “I don’t want you! I don’t want anyone. I’ve lived well on my own, and I intend to stay that way. It hurts a lot less.”

  When Estrella tried to growl again, I didn’t let it take root. I pinned her to the ground with a snarl until she whined surrender. I remained over her, still growling, making sure she knew not to speak again.

  “Go home, Estrella. Go back to that whelp. Go back to a pack that still cares for you.”

  After I stepped off, Estrella remained on her side, pleading with her eyes. “Luna. Don’t be like this. Don’t push me away.”

  As I glared at her, for a moment, I thought about it. Her hunting skills didn’t seem too bad, and her stubbornness could be an asset out here without a pack. Perhaps I could give her another chance.

  Perhaps... I huffed at the thought. Despite my best effort, “perhaps” was not enough to make it feel right. No, I’d made my choice. There was no point thinking otherwise. “You made a promise. I now ask that you honor it. Get moving. Don’t let me catch you in my territory again.”

  I walked away, not bothering to look back. I knew I’d find pain there, not just hers either. I went all the way inside my den, refusing to see anything. I laid inside, staring at the empty entrance, and the anger melted away.

  I’d done it again. I had driven away another wolf. I didn’t need to see her to know Estrella was crying. Perhaps she felt as alone as I did. Part of me didn’t care. The rest wished I didn’t feel at all.

  But I did. I could feel the void of where she’d been. The joy of where the hunt had been, now replaced by my usual pain. I was alone again, as I knew I’d always be. As the pain churned in my chest, my head lifted in a long, low howl, as if I might somehow expel it through my voice. The deep tone echoed among the rocks, ringing in my ears and piercing into my heart. The expression helped in the moment, but it also reminded me of that which triggered it.

  My ears perked when I heard a reply. It was faint, distorted coming through the rocks, and unfamiliar, yet it sounded much like mine. It also sounded young and still unperfected. I rushed out to find the source, but the echo had already faded, as had most of the mist, thank Wolfor. I listened hard for a moment only to find birds and breeze on the air. I checked the scents, still finding nothing. Maybe I’d imagined it. They say isolation does things to one’s mind.

  One thing my mind knew all too well were the excited barks of the humans. They were close. Close enough that I saw one of them stalking through the trees with a thunder stick in his paws. I hugged the rocks of my den as if I might melt into them. My eyes and ears were locked onto this one human while I tried to choose the best escape path.

  I abandoned those thoughts when I realized the human wasn’t coming toward me at all. He was hunting something else. With the rest of the human’s pack hunting elsewhere, I couldn’t help wondering what possessed this fool to go out on his own. Was he a loner searching for a mate? Had he gone mad? Curiosity beat out caution, and I followed him, slow and silent, in the hopes of finding an answer.

  He moved well, this one. Were I not watching him, I might not have heard him. Why he’d made so much noise a few seconds ago added to my confusion. I’d heard of coyotes yapping as they hunted, but somehow, I didn�
�t think that’s what this one had been doing. My best guess was some sort of brag, or maybe an argument, had been the cause.

  The human made up for that noise by advancing without a sound. I stayed with him, moving just as silent, my heart thundering at the fear of being discovered. Half of me rather enjoyed the stalk, testing my skills against the human’s. I remained a smooth shadow far off to his side. Downwind, out of sight, and in total control.

  When the human stopped, I hugged the ground in case he’d heard me. The human knelt behind a tree so smoothly, he may as well have melted into the position. It was a stance I had seen before. He had his prey in sight and was preparing for the kill. I looked where he was looking, trying to distinguish shadow from something real.

  I found one wolf lying there, alone, staring into the forest as if searching for something. She was pretty. Her fur mostly gray on her back, with brown legs... wait...

  “Estrella?”

  I whispered her name as I recognized her fur pattern. My heart sank when I realized she didn’t know. A human had her dead to rights, and she didn’t know.

  My sides started heaving indecision. He’s going to kill her. I could see the human working with his thunder stick. A few seconds more, and she’d be dead. The thought sent me into a panic mixed with confusion. Why did I care? Why was my entire body tensing by the second? Why the panic? Why the fear?

  Why am I still lying here?!

  “NO!”

  I left everything behind, my fear, my doubts, my caution. I tore through the dirt, hackles high and snarl thundering. The human would not have her. Not today.

  The human looked my way, and I swear his skin turned white. He tried to point his thunder stick at me, then had to change his mind midway to put it in the path of my lunge. He stopped the bite with the thunder stick as he was knocked on his back with a thud. I put my paws on the stick, trying to push it out of my way.

  “Estrella, get out of here,” I yelled. “Now!”

  I didn’t look to see if she listened. I’d spared too much focus already.

  The human had managed a stalemate so far. My hind claws found only his fur, or whatever lay on top of his legs, while my forepaws were busy keeping me on top. I tried to bite through the stick, but much of it felt hard as rock and tasted cool and tangy like nothing I’d bitten before. I could smell the human’s fear, though, which made my snarl grow.

  We wrestled against each other in a battle of wills. The human tried to push me off, or to get up, only to fail each time. I tried to push past the stick yet fared no better. Eventually, the human dropped the stick, thrusting one paw to my neck just behind my chin to keep me at bay. The other paw went to his waist. The human pulled out a short reflective rock, much like their red beast, but still bright gray. He swung it out wide and pointed the rock at me, which my instincts did not trust. When the human stabbed, I thrust my shoulder in its path.

  A sharp whine echoed off the trees as the rock jabbed into my left foreleg. A searing pain tore around the wound, running up and down my leg. Instinct drove my fangs to the human’s wrist. When they struck, I felt bone snap. Now it was the human crying out in pain. His other paw lost grip on my neck as it clutched for the wound. Before he could recover, I pushed past the human’s paws and sank my fangs deep into his throat. The human gasped and clawed at me with paws that held no bite. He was mine now. A few gasps and gurgles later, the human lay dead beneath my jaws.

  I panted pain and exhaustion as I released my hold. When I tried to move, more pain shot down my left leg, drawing a wince and another sharp whine. I lifted my paw off the ground, which seemed to help, then investigated the rock still stuck in my shoulder.

  These humans, they do know how to make up for their weaknesses. While his paws had no claws of their own, this one rock had done plenty of damage. With great whines, I pulled it out and tossed it aside, trying not to think about the blood running down my leg. So much for hunting. Hopefully that moose would go unfound long enough for me to pick at it some more. If not, I may be in real trouble.

  Yet, in that moment, my mind had something it cared about just as much.

  “Estrella?”

  I looked around for the first time in search of her. I found the forest empty. Figures. The one time she actually listened to me is the one time I’d rather she hadn’t. Well, I wanted to be alone. Looks like I got my wish.

  I licked my wound as clean as I could despite the great protest it gave. I growled at the dead human, frustrated at what he’d caused. Then my stomach took its turn to sink. It wouldn’t be long before this human was found by his pack. With such an injury, it was best I not be there when he was. That meant my wound had to go uncared for a while longer, and it was guaranteed to hurt.

  Unfortunately, I had little choice. With a persistent whine, and a renewed fear of the forest, I limped all the way back to my den. I paused to lick the wound occasionally, but instead of soothing it, I only managed to make it bearable. The long limp home was agony. The crawl inside my den was even worse.

  Still, I was safe, if only for now. Waves of pain, and exhaustion from fighting through it, kept me panting between bouts of licking my wound. The bleeding had mostly stopped, but it would take some time before I could do much with it. I didn’t let myself ponder the question of how long before I could use it in full again. Though if it didn’t seal properly, the question was irrelevant, assuming it wasn’t already.

  What an end to a busy day. Almost wish it weren’t over. Been almost fun in an odd way.

  Then an old voice came from outside the den. “I told you I wasn't done with you.”

  Me and my big mouth.

  Chapter 6

  I LICKED AROUND MY wound, glad to see it hadn’t reopened. The old wolf laid beside me outside my den, watching patiently. He’d refused to leave, and I was in no position to force him off. At least the night had cooled enough to calm me more than I expected. A crisp breeze ruffled my fur, almost as if Wolfor were rubbing against me.

  Maybe that’s why I was still talking. I had started just as the sun was setting, and I hadn’t stopped since. The words kept coming, detailing everything that had happened since we met, as well as what happened years before. The old wolf watched with patient attention, stopping me only on the rare times he wanted clarification. Even then, he was so polite, I couldn’t find a reason to growl. Thus, my tale spilled from my mouth, as if I’d been holding it in my jaws all this time.

  I eventually caught up to the more recent events after another check of my wound. “Once I realized she was gone, I limped my way here to find some measure of safety, and that's about it.”

  “About it?” the old wolf said. “Isn’t there more?”

  A growl finally formed out of annoyance. “No, not really.” The old wolf didn’t react at all. He laid there, staring at me while I pretended to care for my leg. Guess he does know something after all. “Okay, there is more. I felt something. When I saw her in danger, I went into a frenzy. I don’t know why. I don’t understand what I felt.”

  The old wolf tilted his head ever so slightly. “Compassion? Care? Attraction? Love?”

  I shook my head, trying to shake the feeling from my memory. “No. It isn't possible. I have no heart. I buried it three years ago. My future is to live in that den alone. Just like you... wait, you said you met a female and started a pack. Where are they now? Did they kick you out too?”

  The old wolf’s ears dropped, and so did his head. I kept a huff silent out of respect, and more than a little fear of reprisal given my injury. When the old wolf’s eyes rose to meet mine, another thorn pricked at my chest.

  “Humans,” he said. “Humans killed them all. First, my pups disappeared one by one. Then, as a final insult, the last of my previous litter panicked, and in trying to run away, he led them to our den. The last of my pack, including my mate, were killed before my eyes. I banished that pup out of grief before I realized the truth behind his error. I suspect he’s a lot like you are now: bitter and alone. Ri
ghtfully so, given my own crime.”

  This time, I couldn’t help huffing. The parallel was too strong. “Another Toltan. Too blind to see the mistake, too foolish to let the pain fade before you make it.”

  The old wolf snapped at me, to which I whined apology before he did more. “Do not lecture me, pup. Not until you’ve seen the blood of your pups on the fangs of another. Face that and act as you said, then maybe I’ll let you tell me what one should or should not do.”

  I wanted to do so anyway, to give a snap of my own, but I had no ground to stand on, nor was there any cause for it. That said, my ears quickly returned to where they belonged: forward and alert. While I owed him the apology, he had not earned the right to be my alpha.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I can’t imagine that.”

  “No, you can’t!” The old wolf closed his eyes, and breathed until his growl faded. He ended with an amused huff before opening his eyes again. “Now I owe you an apology. You don’t deserve that.”

  I started ruffing, very close to laughing. Seemed like everyone was telling me when someone did or didn’t deserve something. Somehow ironic that, this time, the wolf that “deserved” something was me. The whole thing had to be a joke by Wolfor.

  “You find that amusing, do you?” the old wolf asked.

  If only you knew. “Forget it. It’s just me. Nothing more than the wolf that I am.”

  “Oh? And what is that?”

  I stared at him, still fighting a laugh. “You in a few years. A lone wolf trying to find some joy in a world that won’t let him. Not that I care. I’ve made my peace with that. Solitude is what I am and will always be.”

  “Tell that to the human you just killed. Unless you really think that was just some blood rage that took control of you.”

  “Worth a try. I’m pretty good at lying to myself. What’s another one?”

  The old wolf turned his ears back while trying not to laugh. “Pup, you’re going to drive me crazy.”

  A soft growl escaped my control, after which I didn’t bother trying to soften my glare. “I’m not keeping you here. I’m sure that fox is still out there, and I’d just as soon be alone anyway.”