Dog Pack Story Part 1

An elderly buck wanders aimlessly through the woods in search of food.  His white tail flashes as he flicks it back and forth behind him in irritation.  His worn and broken teeth make it hard for him to find edible food among the trees of the winter locked forest, and the toll is evident in his clearly defined ribs.  A muffled twump of falling snow makes him fling his head up and ears flip back and forth to identify the sound behind him.  He stands still for a few moments before turning to bound down a well-worn trail between two large spruce trees.  Just as the deer is about to pass between them a large, gray, wirehaired body launches itself from the space beneath one of the large spruces and tackles the deer, long teeth and strong jaws clamping down on the base of the old buck’s head and easily snapping its spine.  The deer falls limp in the dog’s jaws as its role in the world as a living creature comes to an end.

The large dog, a young Irish Wolfhound drops the deer and sniffs it before tearing into the soft underbelly to quickly eat the liver and heart before anyone else could appear and steal the prized organs.  He raises his head and his gray eyes search the woods around him arrogantly before he grasps the deer again and begins to carry it down a different path through the woods.

Every couple dozen yards the dog drops the deer and raises his head to sniff the soft breeze flowing through the trees before picking up his prize and moving on again.  After a few more stops he starts to become bored and tired, so decides to stop testing the air after severing the remains of the guts from the corpse to make the load lighter.

The young dog smiles when he finally reaches the river that boarders the camp and turns to trot upstream, but pauses when he sees something move among the tall, dead grass by the river.  He stops and slowly lowers the carcass of the deer to the ground before quietly walking towards it.  As he gets closer he lowers himself into a stalking position and peers through the grass at the little white thing that was moving.  The young dog smiles and his tongue lolls out as he assumes it’s a rabbit and gets ready to leap on the creature.  But just as he starts to shift his weight back in order to propel himself forward he hears a loud bark.  He turns his head to look at a large female German Shepherd who had suddenly appeared from the tree-line on his left.  The poor thing never knew what hit him.

The female growls a warning at the Irish Wolfhound before snapping her teeth in the air and launching herself forward to slam her shoulder into his side.  The young dog’s legs fly in the air as he is knocked off his feet and into the river.  A high pitched yelp escapes his lips as he feels the icy winter water soak into his fur.

As soon as the dog hits the water the German Shepherd rushes forward to grab a small white and tan pup from the bushes before rushing upriver a bit and turning to run into the woods.  The small pup remains silent as the female runs through the thickening trees until they reach a small clearing where she unceremoniously drops him before spinning around to face the trail they had taken.  Her amber eyes lock on the trail as her ears twitch back and forth, straining to hear something that would alert her to whether or not the dog had followed them.

For a few minutes nothing changes, until her ear catches the sound of fur catching on branches and crunching snow as something ran towards them.  The bitch takes a few steps back and tenses her muscles in preparation for a fight, and is ready when the dog breaks into the clearing.

The young wolfhound is still dripping from his swim in the river with some of the water already freezing in his pelt, and his gray eyes are filled with the rage of youth as he bares his teeth at the German Shepherd.

“You’re going to pay for that” he growls, white teeth flashing in a smile laced with irritation.

The bitch just stares at him, her eyes cold and calculating as she meets his fiery gaze.  They both are still as they gauge the other’s strength before the wolfhound lunges forward and up to try and bite the female’s neck like he had the deer.  She is ready however, and drops down as she rushes forward to grasp the loose skin at the joint of his hind leg.  The wolfhound yelps and tries to bite the shepherd’s tail, but instead he is met with teeth as she spins, snow flying, to bite at his face in return.  The young dog manages to make a few cuts on her muzzle, but comes out with more lacerations of his own.  His lip is torn in half towards the front of his face.  The dog retreats a few clumsy steps to try and create space between him and the bitch, and to his relief she doesn’t follow him, but instead stays put and preps herself to readily await his next attack.

After a pause the wolfhound growls at her, and launches himself forward again, but at first feints to the right before straightening out to slam into the female head on.  He successfully knocks her off balance, but in his inexperience he doesn’t capitalize on the moment fast enough, and she regains her feet before he can lunge at her again.

This time only the wolfhound comes out bleeding more, his blood dripping into the disturbed snow.  The young dog glares at the female and bares his teeth in a growl turned hiss before getting ready to leap again when they both hear a loud voice bark:

“Enough!  Stand down Grayn.”

A large black Labrador Retriever steps into the clearing.  Her golden eyes are clear as she stares down the young dog, despite his height advantage, and raises her tail to assert her dominance.  When Grayn reluctantly obeys the lab turns her attention to the shepherd.

“The same goes for you trespasser.” she growls, her eyes calmly meeting the shepherd’s strong gaze.  The shepherd dully notes the scar over the lab’s empty right eye socket, a memory tugging at the back of her mind.  After a moment or two of silence she finally lowers her hackles and relaxes her muscles, although her eyes still watch the black bitch carefully.

“What is your name?” the black lab asks, her voice level and patient as she keeps an eye on Grayn while awaiting a response.

Uneasily the shepherd replies “Crow,”  her amber eyes flicking back and forth between Grayn and the lab.

“My name is Charolette.  I am the lead female of the Pack of the Forest.  What started this… dispute?”

Crow glanced behind her at the small white pup sitting in the snow before returning her gaze to Charolette and responding, “You’re dog there was about to attack… my pup.”  Crow winced at her own pause before claiming the pup as her own, and it doesn’t go by unnoticed by the others, but despite their pricked ears, neither of them say anything.

The silence stretches on for a bit before Charolette lets out a sigh and shakes her large head in frustration.  She glares at Grayn before turning back the way she had arrived and pauses just long enough to beckon both Grayn and Crow to follow her before disappearing among the snowy trees.  Grayn follows immediately, his tail curled between his long legs as he stalks through the snow, although Crow waits a moment before turning and lightly nudging the small pup ahead of her and guiding him after the two dogs.

The pup doesn’t complain, just stumbles forward on clumsy legs in the direction Crow guides him.  He steps lightly at first, but slowly gains his confidence as he starts to figure out how to maneuver his long and ungainly limbs.  After only a few falls he is able to follow behind Crow as she trots down the narrow path through the trees, following the scent of Charolette and Grayn.  His dark brown eyes carefully absorb his surroundings, his head whipping back and forth as flashes of movement catch his attention.  It does not take long for the pup to get tired, and he is soon struggling to keep up with Crow.  She looks back at him to make sure he is still close, but she makes no move to help him or slow her pace.  But he doesn’t complain, and just tries to keep up as best he can, his little tongue hanging out the side of his mouth as he pants to try and cool himself off.

Crow glances back at the pup every few yards to make sure he is still following her until they reach a large path cut through the pines.  Charolette is sitting in its the center, but Grayn is gone.  Feeling uneasy, Crow sits after nudging the pup to sit between her forelegs.  The tired pup looks at Charolette, his dark eyes already showing experience and pain beyond his young age.  Charolette meets his gaze for a bit before locking eyes with Crow.

“I sent Grayn to retrieve the kill he abandoned.” Charolette sighs, noting the tension and wary looks Crow is occasionally casting around her.  Crow stares at her and remains silent, her amber eyes filled with a muffled uncertainty.  They sit in silence until the pup stands up and moves forward a few steps to get a better look at Charolette.  The young pup sniffs the winter air, his nose tip bending a bit as he moves it back and forth.  After a bit he lowers his nose and lays down on the lightly packed snow, his paws stretched in front of him as he lays on his stomach rather than his side like most pups would.  He slowly lowers his head to rest on his paws.  His dark eyes still watch Charolette as his tail begins to wag back and forth along the ground.  After a few seconds with no reaction he stops, raises his head, clumsily stands and backs up to sit next to Crow again.

Crow tenses when the pup walks forward, but admires his courage despite his obvious wariness towards the lab.  She carefully watches him, but keeps her focus on Charolette, in case the bitch tried to go after the pup.  The shepherd only relaxes after the pup returns to her side, and she gives him a quick lick on the top of his head before returning her gaze to Charolette.

Charolette watches the pup with some indifference, but is also intrigued with how he reacts to her lack of reaction.  She also takes the opportunity to get a better look at the pup.  The one thing she is certain of is that Crow is not his mother, and she doesn’t like that they both carry the scent of the Pack of the City.  She is curious as to the way the pup acts makes him seem older, despite his small size.

The silence and tension of waiting for Grayn to return slowly builds until the young dog finally walks onto the path, the old deer hanging from his jaws.  He drops the carcass in the snow and sits with his head held low when Charolette turns her gaze to him, but perks his ears up when she returns her focus to Crow and the pup.

“Follow me.”  she barks abruptly before standing and spinning to trot across the path and into the trees on the side opposite the one they had arrived on.  Grayn lets out a short sigh before grasping the deer in his jaws again and stands, motioning with his head for the pup and Crow to go first.

Crow silently bares her teeth at him in warning as she and the pup walk by.  He rolls his eyes before falling into line behind them.  Charolette glances back at them over her shoulder before leading them along a narrow but well-packed path through the pines.  The pup’s dark eyes gleam with curiosity as every movement and flicker of the shadows around them draws his attention.  After the first few times he nearly runs into Crow while not paying attention she lightly nips at him in warning.  The pup ducks his head and looks up at her before stubbornly keeping his eyes focused on where they were going, refusing to let his attention wander.

It doesn’t take long for the group to reach a broken and crumbling wall of stone half buried in the snow. Just visible over the broken wall is the remnants of an old castle, the remains of a long-ago destroyed fort of an old king.  A ring of massive sycamores stand formidably around the place, almost daring the outside world to try and reclaim the ruins they guard as their strong limbs hold the snow like a shield.  The pup stops to stare up towards the sky in awe while large clouds drift lazily above the trees.  Crow stops and backtracks to nudge the pup along after allowing Grayn to pass with his deer, Crow smiling slightly with satisfaction when she observes his limp.

Charolette leads the way through a segment of collapsed wall, the snow cleared away from the entrance by many paws.  Crow draws the pup closer to her, and he willingly complies without a sound.  They soon reach the main building of the old castle and they enter a large gap where two doors had once stood, but now only the hinges remain.

Grayn leaves them at the entrance, taking a left to walk down a corridor, the hind legs of the deer dragging and his claws clicking on the stone floor.  The pup watches him leave and stares after the dog until Crow gently nudges him and beckons him to follow her as she trails after Charolette, who was walking down a corridor on their right.  For the pup it seems as if it takes forever to reach their destination, a mid-sized chamber.  A large Burnese Mountain dog was sitting on a pile of straw that sat on a construct of wood against the wall in the room.  When Charolette enters he raises his large head and pulls his weight to his feet to greet her, his plumed tail slowly waving back and forth a few times as they touch noses before he turns to Crow and the pup.

“Where did you find these City Dwellers?” He asks in a low rumble.  His brown eyes, so dark as to seem black, level themselves at Crow as he evaluates her while Charolette whispers a few words in his ear before turning around to stand beside him.  The dog’s eyes are filled with amusement for a moment before it fades into a more serious mood.