So same warning as last time, wolves being wolves and making a mess (though slightly less messy this time)
Chase crept through the dense underbrush, silent as his pack brothers around him. They were closing in on a herd of deer, excitement thrumming in the air. It had been weeks since they had made a big kill and it had driven them further from their pack lands than Chase had been in years, chasing after this herd that could feed the pack for weeks.
Unlike the rest of the group, Chase felt more nervous than excited. He'd never been put in charge of a hunt as important as this one. He was glad Dax had faith in his hunting abilities, but the pressure to pull this off was making it hard for him to enjoy what he loved to do.
If they failed to bring home enough game to feed the pack, they could go down to the human town and buy meat, so it wasn't like this was a matter of life and death. Still, the pack took pride in being self-sufficient, and they all preferred fresh meat anyway. More importantly, Chase didn't want to see the disappointed look on Dax's face when they came home empty handed again.
The wind shifted, and he shifted with it to stay downwind of the herd. The pack went with him, spreading out through the trees to circle around the herd and close it in, trapped and ready for slaughter.
Chase could see them through the underbrush now, grazing peacefully in a small meadow. He almost hated to disturb them, but he was no stranger to hunting, and pushed his concerns aside. Besides, they wouldn't take that much, three of the larger bucks would be more than enough to feed the pack for a week or more, and still leave the herd strong enough to recover.
The pack waited for his signal. He had led them here and this was his moment, his turn to be the leader. As a beta-born it should have come naturally to him, but he'd left his birthright behind a long time ago, and it felt strange to have so many eyes on him, so many wolves waiting for his signal, his lead.
But he'd never had any interest in being a beta. Even if he hadn't been small for a supposedly dominant wolf, his growth stunted from years of malnutrition when he was young, he had no interest in training and fighting. All he'd ever wanted was to be a hunter, to provide food so no one would have to go hungry as he had for so long. This was his moment to do it, and it was all he'd ever dreamed of.
But something was off. There was a scent in the air, something familiar, distracting him from the herd. It was so faint he couldn't recognize it, but he knew it from somewhere. What was it? It smelled like... maybe another wolf? That wasn't surprising, they were in no man's land, any pack or lone wolf could wander this land freely as he had when he was young, before the pack took him in.
There was something nagging about this particular scent though, something that kept slipping away just as he tried to catch it. He was sure if he could just get a good whiff of it, he would be able to figure it out.
A twig snapped, the sound as loud as a gunshot in the silent woods, and he froze, his head jerking toward the sound. One of the younger members of the group, a wolf not yet out of his teenage years, stared back with wide eyes, his paw still pressed into the broken branch.
The herd's heads had also jerked up at the sound, and they stared into the trees in search of danger, but the pack waited with bated breath, still hidden in the trees and downwind from the deer. After a too-long pause, the herd relaxed and went back to grazing, the sound forgotten, and the pack let out a breath as one.
That was close, and Chase berated himself for allowing it to happen. They would have already made their move if he hadn't been distracted by the strangely familiar scent. He would have to scold the young wolf later for his impatience, but it was as much Chase's fault as it was the kid's.
He shook the thoughts from his mind and focused on the task at hand, picking out one of the bigger bucks near the edge of the herd to target. He gathered his legs beneath him, ready to pounce, and could feel his pack doing the same around him, waiting for his cue. He took a breath in. Let it out.
Pounced.
The buck didn't have time to look up before he was on it, teeth digging into its neck and bringing it to the ground. The buck screamed and thrashed, its cries spurring the herd to flee, but not before two more bucks had fallen to other members of the pack.
Chase tightened his grip, refusing to be shaken by the buck's struggles. Two of his pack brothers had also attached themselves to their prey, helping Chase hold it down long enough to rip its throat out and put it out of its misery.
With the deed done, Chase stepped back, chest heaving and tongue hanging out of his mouth as he panted. he glanced around and saw the other two bucks had also been killed and lay nearby, the other wolves also taking a moment to catch their breath.
He could almost feel himself grinning, impossible as that was in this form. He'd done this. He had led the pack here, to this herd, and he'd drawn first blood and taken down the first buck. Elation ran like a current through the pack as they all took in the sight of a successful hunt, their first in weeks.
One of his pack brothers approached him, rubbing against his side in a gesture of congratulations Chase automatically returned, though his mind had strayed elsewhere. He'd been near here when he'd taken out his first deer, hadn't he?
It felt like a lifetime ago, hunting on his own, young and scared and half-starving, but determined. He'd been lucky enough to find a foal separated from its herd and had killed it without a thought, dragging it home to his den. They'd eaten well that night and hadn't been hungry for days following.
Chase shut his eyes, trying to bring back the happy feelings that should have come with the memory, but they wouldn't come, and the elation of the pack no longer reached him either. He hadn't given that part of his life much thought in years as it always brought with it too much pain, the loss of his brother souring all memories associated with him.
There had been a time he thought of his brother every day, imagined him out here still waiting for Chase to come home with a rabbit for them to share, to curl up next to him so they would be warm in the bitterly cold nights, stomachs still rumbling until Chase vowed the next day he would find them a better meal, would provide for his little brother, protect him.
He didn't have those dreams anymore. He knew the little omega was dead by now. Chase had allowed them to be separated, had failed to return for him. The kid had never hunted before and had relied completely on Chase to keep him alive.
And he was such a scrawny thing, a runt as their father said, and it was true. They'd known he would be an omega far before he was old enough to present because no other rank of wolf could be so tiny. But Chase had loved him, and it still weighed on him that it was his fault the little omega was dead.
He caught the familiar scent from before, but this time it made him stiffen. This time, through the lens of old memories, he recognized it. It almost smelled like... but that was impossible. He had been alone in the woods for thirteen years now. There was no way his brother was still alive.
Still, Chase found himself stepping away from his pack, trying to pick up the trail. He knew it was a long shot, next to impossible really, but he couldn't fight the urgent need to make sure this scent was from some random lone wolf and didn't belong to the brother he'd lost hope of ever seeing again.
"Yo, Chase!"
He glanced back to find several of his pack brothers had shifted into their human forms. Most were inspecting their kills, testing their weight, talking amongst themselves about how they were going to carry them home.
One, however, was watching him, and called out, "Where are you going?"
What could Chase tell him? That he thought he smelled his dead brother, who only Dax knew existed, and he just wanted to go check it out and make sure? Never mind that it was probably a random lone wolf who would attack him on sight and do some serious damage, as Chase was rather small for a beta-born and not trained as a fighter.
The danger didn't deter is urge to follow the scent, though, because if there was a chance, any chance at all, that his brother was alive, didn't Chase owe it to him to find him and bring him home?
He shook his head and started toward the trail again, but paused when he heard footsteps start to follow him. He glanced back to find his pack brother back in wolf form and making to follow him, but he shook his head. He needed to go alone. If it was his brother, strangers would scare him off. Hell, Chase was afraid he would scare the boy off. Thirteen years was a long time. Would the omega even recognize him?
He started off again, his steps quickening when he noticed another scent in the air. Blood. Wouldn't that be his luck, for his lost brother to survive for thirteen years alone in the woods, against all odds, only to meet some terrible fate days, hours, even moments before Chase could get there? For Chase to get there only to find his brother's body and be too late to save him, but know that if he'd looked for him just a little harder, a little longer, he could have found him, saved him, brought him home. If only he hadn't underestimated the boy, given up on him within months of their separation.
He was running when he tripped over something hidden in the foliage, causing him to sprawl out face first across the forest floor. He lay stunned for a moment before picking himself up and shaking his fur out. Well that was embarrassing. What had he tripped on? He turned and found...
A deer?
It was the carcass of a young buck, most of it eaten away but still recognizable from the mostly untouched head and small set of horns attached. A surge of relief swept through him; this was the source of the blood scent, not a wolf but a deer. If it had been his brother's scent he'd picked up, there was no reason to believe he'd been harmed.
But there was no way to tell where the trail went next. There were too many other scents overlapping the carcass from all the scavengers that had been here for Chase to make one out from the others. It had likely been a day or more since the deer was killed, so the source of that scent could be anywhere by now, and there was no reason to stick around looking.
Chase cast one last look around the area, some part of him hoping his brother would walk out of the underbrush like nothing had happened. He wanted to continue his search, to stop at nothing until he'd tracked down the source of that scent to see if it really was his brother or not, but he knew he was expected to accompany the rest of the hunting party home with their kill.
This would not be the end though. He would be back, and he would track down this wolf that smelled like his brother. If by some miracle the omega had managed to survive, Chase would find him and bring him home. Where he belonged.
Posted: 11/17/2020
Word Count: 2074
So fun facts, I originally intended for the entire book to be from the omega's POV, but then Chase and Dax decided they wanted some time to shine too, so I'm honestly not sure who to call the main character anymore lol. Anyway, hope you have a wonderful week :)
<3Koda