Ch 25 Wolf Pointe

378 28 1
                                    

In keeping with the Native American theme, the tribes I mention are real Amerindian and aboriginal Alaskan tribes, not made up names for fictitious wolf tribes.

*****************

It was fun running with Dad again, shoulder to shoulder, along a path we'd scratched out of the forest over the years. Even wild wolves followed this path on occasion. The pointe had a great view and the sound from there, well, you could hear and be heard for miles.

Dad and I weren't the only wolves in the woods tonight.

I could tell from the scents in the area that the wolf sent to represent the Arctic Wolf had been around for the last few days.

The old grey was laying on the stone of the pointe. When I looked at him I saw only wolf.

There was another smaller wolf, friendly and unafraid, sitting on the trail. His coat was more yellow with black on its back and tail.

"A Mexican wolf," said Dad in surprise, shifting to speak. "Rare in the world these days. Hola, Lobo," Dad said, greeting him in Spanish.

When I looked through Spirit Wolf's eyes I could see others gathering.

The shy wolf I had seen hiding, not wanting to be found, had come despite his fear. He was ranging at the edges of where we could scent him.

The young lady's representative was trotting toward us with purpose. He stood as her guardian. He would not risk her young self to this unknown so he came in her stead. I could picture a man in a suit and tie. He felt all business.

Angry Cherokee Wolf was coming, and not happy about it. I bet Old Badger Woman had sent him.

And Lone Wolf, struggling along the beginning of the trail, the young wolf seeking his courage by his side.

I had to stop and take to heart the advice I had gotten from my grandfather after I put Mahina in Anna's care. Derrick had already left with Chani. I had told Grandfather everything, from my first use of my pipe.

Grandfather taught me and warned me. I didn't control Spirit Wolf, he helped me at his pleasure. The wrong attitude would offend him and he could possibly leave me. Respect was the key. He was not mine alone. He was my guide, not an aspect of my being the way man and wolf was.

Yet the wolf within me, that was me, related so easy to the spirit of the wolf. It was as if there was no border between us. The way I had shifted in the fire was proof of that.

Right now, after knowing Lone Wolf brought a companion, I really wanted to know where that alpha was! Spirit Wolf obliged me. The world moved under his feet until my vision focused on a city.

I was at attention then, ears forward, eyes focused on that distant point. I focused in on that alpha Lone Wolf had spoken of.

There was a room, a boy chained to a wall. The filth of the place, the condition of the naked boy-wolves, appalled me.

The coward would not come, too afraid to leave his city, too afraid of losing control of his captive pack. I couldn't tell if the growl that came from my throat was mine or Spirit Wolf's.

Little WolfWhere stories live. Discover now