Silver Wolf

Prologue

"It all comes back one day. When everything seemed easy. When mother was there to help..."

Blearily opening my eyes, for the first time, I stared around a small, twig-made den.

"Oh look, she's opened her eyes!" A delighted voice came from above me. I grumbled and rolled over, closing my eyes again.

The second time I opened my eyes when something strong poked me in the ribs. It slightly stung, for the poke had been strong and powerful. I had opened my eyes indignantly, and saw a pure white wolf standing above me, her eyes crystal blue, staring into mine with puzzlement.

"Mama, why hasn't she opened her eyes yet?" My sister squealed.

"She just did!" Another white wolf, this one humungous, stood towering above me. I let out a squeal and clawed frantically at the air, and then stopped, realizing she was my mother.

Clumsily I rolled onto my front, and shakily stood up. At first I couldn't quite get my balance, stumbling all over the den, and it took quite a few days of practice before I really got it.

On my first week of life, I met my other three siblings. The other two pups of my litter had died - they were too weak.

My first sibling was named Kri. She was the white wolf who had woken me up. My second sibling was named Carran. His name meant 'little black one'. I knew this because mother told me. But Kri I had no idea the meaning of.

Then, the next pup, also male, was called Amos. His name meant strong. He was born first and had a healthy look, with shiny eyes and strong build. But along with that, he was a bully.

Carran I was especially close to. Like his name stated, he had shiny black fur with streaks of grey and brown. Amos was white with splotches of ugly grey.

I was the only one silver pup of my litter. Mother would stare at me and whisper, "She has her fathers look, her fathers personality. She is just like her father." But behind the awe and pride, I could sense she was a little frightened.

There was one thing about me, though. I had a white diamond on my chest. It was rather small, but stood out brightly among my other silver fur. Carran would often poke it with his paw and make fun of me by calling me the Diamond One. But I didn't mind, it was all good fun.

When I was one month old, I remembered watching Mother catch a hare, then eat it and at last spew out the meat soft in front of us so we could eat it.

And I remembered, moons later, when Mother caught three field mice and gave them to us to eat. Our heads were only a little below her hips then, and I still remember gobbling down the delicious, red meat. I had wolfed it down and then wished for more, and wished that I could eat something reasonable like elk or deer.

But most of all I remember the night when Mother woke us up, screeching and telling us to run, to run as fast as we could...far, far away from the den, and to never come back. Ever.

I had known it had to be a good cause to do this. I had sped out of the den, the screeches and howls filling my ears, dirt flying behind me, and seeing the luminous, frightening shadows reaching forward, trying to grab me.

And then I remember seeing a shadow grab Carran by the scruff, while he howled and shrieked, and took him away. And I kept on running. I didn't stop until my pads were bruised and bled, all the time hearing the mournful howls of my mother behind me.

The whole time I remembered the day when Mother was gently calming us down for sleep, telling us that we would always be safe with her... that nothing would ever happen.

I guess she just lied.