Welfpack Chapter 2

They sat in a rough circle, six of them. They knew it would only be a matter of time before it was eight – two of the high ranking females had been cozy with the Alpha males of late, and there was just a feeling among this group that they were going to be looking for more.

They didn’t look entirely like wolves. They still had fur, plenty of it. They still had paws, mostly – but where a dewclaw would have clipped the back part of a forepaw, instead there was a longer digit more akin to a thumb than anything else. Plus they each had a ruff of much longer fur that sprouted from their head down to their rump, silky and down-like. Hair, on any elf.

But they didn’t look anything like true elves, either. Their faces were long, snouts with fangs. They had tails, and though they could stand upright as Humans did on occasion (and with great difficulty), they did have much more ease while running on all fours. Their ears, while pointed, were flexible and clearly keen.

They had not been cast out of their packs because of these differences, but then their packs were something slightly different than typical wolves after all. Those packs had more than one breeding couple, for one thing. This location they had was ideal for a large population, but a sensible population at that. They didn’t over hunt, but they didn’t allow each other to starve either. They opted to accept strangers – wolves from distant areas that wandered through were given the chance to become part of their group, and more often than not found a niche. Perhaps the wisdom granted from their elfin ancestress caused this difference for every one of her four-footed descendants.

However, they also hadn’t been chased out after time. And plenty of it had passed since these elf-wolves realized they were different. Three generations, they recalled together with their minds. They had seen three Alpha pairs through from start to finish, and had barely felt the sting of age – and wouldn’t any time soon or even within any Human’s lifetime. They did note that the wandering wolves and loners didn’t live as long as any in their traditional packs. It was obvious that the ancient line of elf blood was keeping them healthier and longer-lived than normal already.

But they were, indeed, different even from those wolves they could see lounging by the river wash. Compelled as they were to gather, this was not the first time they had done so. Over time, their number had grown to its current six, they’d lost one to a flood.

**We should make sure to collect them, when they are born,** thought one, the light-cream colored female. The emotion she betrayed was tinted with a bit of jealousy, it was her younger relative who bore this litter upcoming, where she herself had seemed incapable of it. But more, her mind rode a wave of concern.

That worry was picked up by the eldest of the group, a dark-brown male whose ear was notched from a fight with a bear, and whose mind was subtler than it seemed it should be. **We will, for there will be Humans coming near, sometime soon.**

With that unspoken idea spread, the other four shifted in their spots, tails curled a little, looking away from one another.

**We know they will come,** the elder said, **we should prepare to find a new place. Our pack will be small but strong.**

**Leave the valley?** The other female, older than the other one and darker in shade, bespoke. **But our packs…**

**Are strong. And we will know if there are others like us,** the dark male reassured her. **We need our own territory now.**

**Because we are different,** thought the slate-and-grey male, usually more quiet mentally than the others but entirely as social with the other wolves. He felt the waves of agreement from the others, but added, **It will be lonely. There are few of us, and we’re used to many.**

To that, the elder male merely chuffed and yawned. Their youngest member, a fire-red coated male, yipped and gave off an oddly elfin laugh. **If you have your way we will be up to our haunches in pups soon enough, I wouldn’t worry about that…**

They shared a wolfish romp, suddenly the males full of energy chased each other around while the two females merely lounged still. The young red deferred to the brown male; he was the prankster, the omega of their small group. He, like the rest, served a purpose with his mocking barks. If they were too serious, he would cheer them up. If they were in need of venting frustration, he was there to run it off as they chased him.

They all acknowledged the brown as their Alpha, but whether the young or more mature female would be his mate was still undetermined. They’d both dallied with males, neither producing cubs – even after this long. They knew this too: perhaps it was because they were different. Those wolves weren’t good enough to breed with. But this group… They would be.

And perhaps there would be time for different arrangements after all. They needed a leader, and they had one. But they also needed pups. Who bred with whom would certainly be of interest – but it might not make or break a pack, they didn’t need to continue using all their wolfen ways.

In fact, even as they plotted what direction they would go, and how best to coax the younglings from their mothers when the time came, they felt themselves grow more in tune with the star-song.

It was the pale younger female who noticed it, over the next few days. When they ran with the other wolves, they howled and drooled and shedded just like they had for eights – but when they walked with one another, they thought. Her mind was buzzing with ideas, now, some of which would spill over to the rest, and sometimes would gain her a chiding from the elder female.

**You think too much,** She complained, **You are like a Human, always chattering.**

The pale female lowered her tail, looked away. She was quiet, but she was never lacking thought. But it was the Alpha who came to her defense.

**Always thinking is a good thing,** he said, **I like hearing the sounds in your mind.** More privately he both scolded the older female, and gave a heartening chuffle to the younger. He walked between them, they were looking for a small deer herd they knew was resting nearby. The females got along normally, but with the idea of splitting off as their own pack, they had yet to establish their ranks. With the much bigger pack there was plenty of room between all the middle wolves.

But they were high and low, they could only be. In a pack of eight, which they would soon be, the middle ground was very slim indeed. It would come down to which of them their Alpha chose. They accepted this, moved on with it, but still thought on it both privately and between one another. They were not evenly matched: the elder brown and black female was bigger by a reasonable margin, and stronger. But the younger, pale female had a far greater wit about her mind, and could sneak through places that the larger one obviously couldn’t follow.

Still, as one, they hunted. In fact the females hunted with more prowess than all but two of the males, as well. It was the darker one which scented the deer first, and the pale one who quickly went to cut off the escape route. They all knew this forest well enough, each tree had its own particular feel. When the pair of twin fawns bolted from their hiding place, the pale wolfess let one through – they only needed one for their meal.

The doe would be around somewhere, but her antlers would have fallen off shortly before the birth of her fawns, and like the bucks who browsed for grasses nearby she’d have to use her hooves to fight the wolves off. They didn’t plan on allowing her near anyway, the male tripped up the fawn and lept upon its narrow back to break it.

It wasn’t a typical wolf tactic, but it was effective. The deer around here were quite large, after all, and a trio of wolves, even elf-blooded ones, would be hard pressed to take down a full sized buck. They couldn’t imagine the northerly herds of scoop horn, but they had occasionally seen Humans with odd animals pulling their travel carts. Those looked both tasty and dangerous.

That the wolves understood Humans were inside the carts, and that the animals were not ‘natural’ like deer, was something their true four-footed litter mates would never be able to do.

The fawn was half grown, but still young enough to nurse – it was sweet meat, and the small spliter pack enjoyed it thoroughly. When the trio had their fill there was still enough to feed the others, with the red-furred Omega getting more fur and bone than anything else.

Yet it was he who commented, **Tail-tip has birthed her pups,** eliciting interest from the others. His mind showed an image of the female with the short tail: her tip had been bitten off by a longtooth cat. The cat had subsequently lost an eye to her vicious bite. She was strong and memorable, one of the few wolves to really be known uniquely by a name.

**Did you notice if…** The sly slate colored male asked, **well, can you tell if there was one of us among her pups?**

**I did,** their normally silent black companion bespoke, **a male.**

Their Alpha sighed inwardly, a male meant more competition for the mates. But that wasn’t all the dark male had to say.

**And there will be another from the other’s den, soon. Female.**

**How can you know that,** asked the elder female, **they haven’t even been born yet.**

He was silent, his dark green eyes meeting only the stars.

**Perhaps…** bespoke the younger female, **I think we all know things that cannot be known. I know you do not like hearing everything I have to say, but hear this: the starsong calls to me powerfully. Like a flooded river. I think there is more to us, if only we give ourselves the chance to grow.** She paused, and then turned to the Alpha. **I will be grateful for the chance to live differently and find out what we are capable of. I just know it is more than we could see here.**