We Are One: Prologue

All the wolves remembered – in startling detail – the day their alpha was taken from them…the day his son was forced to step up and assume the title. Dasan had been hunting with a few other pack members, Bidziil shadowing him. Their mates, Winema and Denali, remained by the den to care for the pups. Winter had just hit, but hunting season was a few sunrises away yet. Or so they thought. The alpha’s fur was a stark contrast to the blindingly white snow. They should have stayed within the trees. They knew that now.

The pack were circling a small herd of caribou deer that had gathered in the clearing, taking cover in the surrounding woods. A muscular stag grazed off to the side while the females and the young stayed close together. Strategy was everything. Attacking the stag would be deadly. Attacking his family while they were so closely packed would be too. They’d have to weed out the weak. One doe could just suffice. An adolescent male would be better. But the calves would be easier, despite needing more than one to feed the whole pack.

Logan and Prescott trudged through the snow, trailing slightly behind the rest of the hunting club they’d joined last year. Though you couldn’t see the trail at this time of year, they knew it by heart now.

“What exactly are we looking for today?” Prescott asked before blowing into his gloved hands.

Logan shifted his hunting rifle onto his shoulder uncomfortably.

“Wolf or cougar, I think.”

“Right…” He eyed the group ahead sceptically.

“I doubt we’ll find any. Their territory is within a national park.” Logan laid a reassuring hand on his friend’s shoulder.

The trees grew denser before thinning out again, and the mountains could be seen in the distance. Large masses of light grey with snowy peaks stood out against the wintery blue sky. Birds flitted between the trees and chirped happily, oblivious to the horrors that would soon take place. Stopping at a public picnic spot, the group pulled out flasks of hot soup and snack bars. Logan and Prescott sat at a different bench, talking quietly between themselves, mildly aware of the older men watching them carefully.

Dakota and Ouray had stopped for a moment, nostrils flaring as they attentively checked the air for familiar scents. A low growl rumbled in Ouray’s throat and his friend glanced at him worriedly. Pushing his snout into the thick fur of his neck, Dakota whined. They pressed their foreheads together briefly before continuing to run towards the national park’s boundary.

An urgent howl echoed through the trees, its distinctiveness crawling up Winema’s spine and causing her fur to stand on end. The cry from her cousin caught Denali’s attention too and she cast an apprehensive glance at her son’s mate. The young female whined deep in her throat and her ears flattened in fear. With a look that made it clear to Denali that she was to stay by the den, Winema took off into the dense forest in search of her cousin. The alpha female’s mouth hung open as she ran, her breath coming out in heavy pants. Desperation coursed hot through her veins. A familiar scent caught her attention and she slowed, surveying her surroundings with anxious eyes and acute hearing. A blur of grey ran past her and she recognised the scent of her cousin and Ouray. Barking after them, she ran to catch up and upon seeing that they had stopped, her tail wagged happily. Dakota’s tail wagged with the same enthusiasm and they licked each other’s snouts in greeting, rubbing their faces against one another. Ouray swayed his tail in content at the arrival of his alpha female but shifted impatiently on his feet. Barking sharply, he continued running and the others followed close behind.

They’d gotten closer to the town that they’d have liked. Winema whined in warning, but Ouray continued meandering his way through the forest and foliage. Loud voices and laughter halted them instantly. The clearing was a few miles west of where they were, as were the rest of the pack. The wolves crouched into the shrubbery and crept closer. Right in front of them was a group of six men and two more sat off to the side. Winema was growing anxious. She wanted to find her mate and last remaining son. Her whining grew more desperate. Dakota pressed his cheek against hers.

‘It’ll be okay,’ the gesture said.

But she couldn’t help but feel something was wrong. At that moment, the strong scent of gunpowder hit their nostrils, and Ouray growled threateningly. That growl was all it took.

Logan looked up quickly. He wasn’t the only one to notice.

“Shit.” He muttered.

Prescott’s eyes were wide as he looked around frantically. His friend reached over and squeezed his hand.

‘It’ll be okay,’ the gesture said.

Turning around. Logan’s eyes settled on something moving ever so slightly. The ‘something’ blinked, and he swallowed harshly.

“Did you hear that?” One of the hunters asked the group.

“I sure as hell did! Where did it come from?” Another replied.

Logan turned to say something…to try and point them in the opposite direction to where they had just seen the three pairs of worried golden eyes. He desperately wanted to avoid bloodshed, but before a word had left his mouth, they turned and ran.

A single gunshot rang throughout the forest. The herd looked up, startled, their ears moving in all directions. Dasan and the others looked up too, eyes darting around while they listened carefully. Bidziil growled lowly, stepping closer to the clearing. His father rushed forward and blocked his path, fixing him with a pointed glare. With narrowed eyes, the young wolf backed down, but his ears stayed alert. When no further sound followed, the herd lowered their heads, but the wolves remained tense. The thudding crunch of paws beating against snow hit their ears and they turned around defensively. Bidziil stood slightly ahead of his father, ears back and teeth bared with a snarl. Slowing, Dakota and Ouray bowed down with their necks exposed in submission. Winema continued straight to Dasan, burying her face into the side of his neck and huffing her approval at his safety. He licked the side of her face. Dakota stood straight, facing Dasan. His eyes held worry. His eyes screamed ‘human!’.

Disregarding their flasks and Logan’s rifle, the young men rushed to keep up with the group now running through the forest. A gunshot vibrated through their ribs and they stumbled in shock. The hunters jeered as they pursued the wolves with no regard for subtlety, boots crunching against fallen branches hidden by snow and voices echoing. Prescott shot his friend a desperate look, the plea clear in his eyes. With a new-found determination, Logan pulled him up. He held his stare with eyes so sure and certain that Prescott could almost believe that everything would be fine. The group wasn’t too far ahead, and they caught up easily. They’d been running for no more than twenty minutes when the club came to a stop. Emmett – the club organiser – was giving orders, instructing everyone to spread out. Logan scanned the surroundings. They were still in the woods; the trees thinned gradually thinned out for the next ten metres ahead, leading to a clearing. Six figures caught his eye, wolves watching a herd of deer. Emmett and the others had already seen them, so there was no time for a diversion. All the could do was wait it out.

Dakota and Ouray spread out to join the rest of the pack, and upon Dasan’s command, Winema reluctantly followed them. Bidziil turned his attention back to the herd. He watched each deer carefully, picking out the weakest for the kill. Something still wasn’t right. The alpha hunched low, a growl rumbling deep in his throat. Everything was still, yet the scent of man was strong.

Another gunshot echoed and the herd scattered, running away from the pack and out of the clearing. Bidziil’s attention was now away from the herd and on his father, gold irises swimming with worry. The sound of hooves pounding against the snow-covered ground thudded in their ears until it wasn’t… Then it was replaced with whining. Someone was hurt.

Tears burned Prescott’s eyes. Logan could hear his heart pounding in his ears. The whining was enough to know that they’d hit one. The other men cheered and clapped the killer on the shoulder. The group closed in a little more, sure that the pack would be together now. It’d make for easier kills. Emmett stopped and raised his rifle.

“What is wrong with you!” Logan shouted, his anger outweighing any desire he once had to make friends.

The burly man didn’t turn to look at him. His focus remained on his target.

“If y’all aren’t going to hunt, why the fuck are you even here?”

Dasan and Bidziil rushed towards the rest of the pack, jumping over logs and scrambling under fallen branches. Running side-by-side, their shoulders brushed, seeking comfort from each other. The whining got louder and Winema glanced in their direction. The pain in her eyes made her mate stumble. Bidziil growled in anger and Dasan hurried to comfort his her. Dakota laid on his side, breathing coming out laboured and heavy. Red stained his fur around a deep hole in his side. Winema pressed her nose into her cousin’s fur, whimpering. His breath was becoming a wheeze, each exhale whistling through his nose. Bidziil continued to growl, the furious sound filling the woods surrounding them. Dakota looked into Winema’s eyes, his own becoming glossy with pain and fluttering with the strain to keep them open.

The click of a rifle being reloaded pulled the wolves’ attention from their friend and in the direction that it came from. One man had his gun raised, the others lingering a few metres behind. Bidziil was licking Dakota’s wound, too distracted to notice the gun being pointed at him. A murderous growl tore from Dasan’s throat and he launched forward, blocking his son and knocking into the man.

“No!”

The wolf snapped his bared teeth as his claws dug into his chest. The man screamed in agony. His friends had fled, apart from two younger men who stood back in shock.

Logan held an arm out, crouched slightly, ready to protect his friend. Both men watched in horror as the largest wolf attacked Emmett and he tried to fight him off. The rest of the pack had surrounded the injured wolf and bared their teeth threateningly. The rest of the group had fled like cowards, but their leader didn’t need to know that they stayed behind to protect the wolves and not him.