Chapter 6
But I wasn’t worried about the Legwalkers, or how meeting them would change my life for the worse. I was too excited by my new weapon, and by seeing the Legwalkers.
I was puzzled, too. How could the Legwalkers look like me but be so different? They wore odd bulky skins on their bodies and didn’t know anything about the woods. And they made those strange fast noises. Other animals communicated when they needed to—a bark or a screech or a short call. But the Legwalkers made their sounds all the time, even when there was no danger or food to call attention to. And how could it be that the noises seemed familiar to me?
As I loped along, heading back to the den, I tried making some of the sounds the Legwalkers had used. But even though I could hear their strange words plainly in my head, I couldn’t quite get my mouth around the sounds. They were too complicated, not at all like growling, barking, and howling.
Excited by my thoughts and at how far and fast the arrows would go, I lost track of time. It was nearly dark by the time I reached the den.
I stashed the bow and arrows with my throwing stick in some bushes. It was silly, of course, but I didn’t want my wolf family to see my new weapons. I felt embarrassed about them. The wolves didn’t need that kind of help when they hunted. And on that great day when I returned from the woods with game for the whole family, I wanted them to marvel and wonder how I’d done it. They would praise me and share the food I’d caught—I’d be as proud as Sharpfang, the best hunter in the pack.
My wolf family were all gathered together in the clearing. The cubs were scrapping over a piece of meat. When Wolfmother saw me she raised her head and growled in annoyance, so I knew she’d been worried.
“Grrruffff!”
I growled to reassure her that I was all right and the danger was gone.
I wished I could let Wolfmother know about the Legwalkers, but probably she already knew. The wolves knew lots of things that I didn’t. I had to see things with my own eyes, but they used their ears and noses to keep track of just about everything that happened in our swamp.
My brother Sharpfang growled impatiently, and only then did I notice he was guarding a kill. I was embarrassed and ashamed that I hadn’t noticed it sooner. Any self-respecting wolf would have smelled the fresh meat long before he arrived at the clearing.
I barked enthusiastically and ran around him in fast circles, trying to make up for my mistake.
Big and silvery gray, Sharpfang walked around his prize, strutting and preening a bit before dragging a haunch to Wolfmother and then bringing a second haunch to me. It was a deer—fresh venison. He and Thornclaw had obviously fed deeply before bringing back what they could.
The two proud hunters watched contentedly as the rest of us ate.
As darkness fell, the wolves stretched out on the ground, too full to move. Even the cubs, Leaper and Snapjaw, were quiet for once. I lay down, resting my head on Sharpfang’s flank.
A rush of love swept over me for my wolf family. Why couldn’t I always feel this content? They accepted me with all my shortcomings, why couldn’t I accept myself?
And then it began. The horror that would change me forever.
Drowsy, I snuggled against my wolfbrother and was beginning to slip into a light sleep when I felt a strange tingling in my hands. At the same moment, Sharpfang stiffened. He stood up so suddenly my head bounced against the ground.
I sat up, rubbing my head, growling questioningly.
The moon was rising over the tops of the trees. It was a full moon, big and yellow, and as the light fell on my face, I felt dazzled. The silvery light was so beautiful. For a second everything between me and the moon seemed to vanish.
A rustling, scampering nose brought me back to myself.
The wolves were all on their feet. Wolf-mother’s eyes were like hot yellow stones. Thornclaw’s eyes were shadowed, but I could see a hard gleam. Sharpfang’s eyes were wide and blazing.
They were all staring. Even the cubs were staring at me. And they were afraid.…
Of me.
Chapter 7
Leaper and Snapjaw suddenly backed away from me, yipping in fear.
Wolfmother chased them into the den and stood in the entrance, solid against the night. She made a strange whimpering noise.
I whined loudly, asking Wolfmother what was wrong.
Starting toward her, I signaled that I wanted to play with the cubs. I rolled on my back to show how unthreatening I was.
But Thornclaw darted at me, snapping. I scuttled backward, away from the den.
What was going on? What had I done?
Behind me I heard a deep growl. I whipped around. Sharpfang was standing there facing me. His hair bristled along his back, stiff and coldly silver in the moonlight.
I barked at him, thrusting my face at him in a way that demanded he look at me, Gruff, his own wolfbrother.
He snarled viciously, the sound building from deep in his broad muscled chest. Sharp-fang dropped back onto his powerful haunches, ready to attack.
My head buzzed so I could hardly think. Then I realized there must be something awful behind me. Some threat so big it could scare all the wolves at once.
I looked over my shoulder, but there was nothing there. Nothing that I could see.
I looked back at Sharpfang. His jaws were open and his teeth shone wetly in the moonlight. Still snarling, he was crouched to spring. His tongue flicked over his teeth. His jaws dripped with rage.
My own jaw dropped in horror.
It was me he was going to attack. Me, his own brother.
Sharpfang was about to tear me limb from limb.
Chapter 8
I barked at him
