A Black Sheep Among Wolves

*Authors note* (TRIGGER WARNING, Themes of violence and abuse.)

The sun is a pale yoke in a creamy cloudless sky. As it sets behind the icy mountain peaks, the yoke breaks and nighttime spills over the world. The midnight gem rises and bathes the snow in gentle beams of moon kisses. This is the time when my family and I awaken. We stretch our legs and dig our claws into the frostbitten dirt as we arch our backs. A smile is forced onto our faces as all of us inhale the Sitka Spruce scented air and exhale with a whimpering yawn. I step into the entrance of the cave and admire the dancing lights that glide through the night sky. Like the pathway of our prey running into the distance; I feel the desire to chase down the lights in hopes of finding its end.

“Quit spacing out and pay attention Wolf,” My father barks at me.

He calls me Wolf though my name is Siku, and that means sea ice. A fitting name I suppose for a creature with blinding white fur and clear greyish eyes. But Wolf is what he calls me because he doesn’t claim me as his pup. Out of all my siblings I am the only white wolf and I certainly don’t resemble my father. His crooked nose and stumpy grey tail twitch enviously at my slender snout and ample rear.

Wolf is how we refer to others with whom we have no relation or obligation to. I tried calling him Wolf once and he nearly took my head off. I cried when mother explained why he called me wolf. Then father had me sleep outside the cave that night for being to loud.

I trod away from the cave entrance and join the family circle to decide what to hunt tonight. Prey has begun to thin out this time of year, so every night we spread out in all directions and bring back whatever we can find. Normally we would hunt in packs but the hunting parties were only bringing back enough food for three. We have six hungry mouths to feed and two aren’t old enough to hunt on their own yet. My little sister Tapeesa and brother Uki cuddle up next to my feet. Uki is small and frail, if I wasn’t around I’m sure my father would give him a harder time.

“Siku…I’m hungry…,” says Uki, his little ears laid back and body trebling.

“I know little one,” I reassure him. “I’ll make sure to save my half for you two.”

Uki and Tapeesa smile and burry their little heads into my fur.

“Quiet whiney pups!” Growls our father. He glares at me and I stare back at him.

“The hunting party will divide into three directions tonight.” Father tilts his head at my mother and her sister. “You two will go north. We brought back a few loons last week from that lake.”

“Which means this week they’ll have likely left to another lake,” My mother argues, but my father doesn’t heed her words.

“I’ll go west,” Father’s eyes haven’t left mine all the while he was speaking. Now he turns away from the group and I as he gives me his orders.

“That leaves wolf to go east,” I can’t see his face but I know he’s hiding a smile.

“You can’t tell him to go east!” Mother snaps at him angrily fear growing in her eyes when she looks at me.

“You know the two-legged beasts live in the east! He could be caught! He could be…,”Father interrupts mother by throwing his body against hers.

“He’ll do as I say and so will you!” His barking scares the little ones.

Mother lays on the ground, her belly exposed. Father rakes his claws against her chest, drawing blood and she yelps in pain. I stand up and try to defend mother. I only make it two steps before my aunty stops me. She shakes her head and pleads with me silently to not make it worse. I grit my canines together; my breathing whistles through them like wind through reeds. I want to kill him but I can’t, as much as I hate to admit it, we need him.

“Stop!” The cave goes quiet as everyone’s attention is placed on me. “I’ll go east. I’ll go, so please…stop…”

Father stops beating mother in the corner and smirks triumphantly. He walks out of the cave and turns to look at me.

“Don’t come back empty handed. Wolf.” Father leaves and heads west.

Aunty and I help my mother to her feet but her wounds are too egregious and she falls to the ground once again. I curse my father under my breath. We have it bad enough without him wounding one of our hunters. I lick my mothers wounds trying to sooth her.

“What are we to do with you sister,” My aunty says, her head hanging low and her eyes reflecting defeat.

I kiss mother on the cheek and the little pups cuddle next to her breast. I can tell they’ve been crying. I stand up and walk to the cave entrance. Looking out at the snow I can clearly see fathers tracks; he’ll be gone for a while now. Aunty walks past me and starts to head north but I stop her.

“Aunty. Stay with mother and take care of her and the pups,” I tell her.

“Your father will kill me if I don’t go hunting tonight,” Says aunty.

“I’ll head north a little ways, then double back and go west,” I tell her.

“We need food Siku.” Aunty rubs her head under my chin, a gesture that means be safe. “Don’t get caught by those two-legs.”

“I wont,” I reassure her.

Walking out onto the ice and snow calms my mind. Everything bad always seams to happen inside the cave, but out here feels surreal and safe. I wander north for a while and the winter wind brushes through my fur. When I reach the lake my mothers’ concerns were right, all the loons have flown away and I couldn’t smell any more prey. Ever sense the two-legs appeared, it has been a struggle to compete for food. I was nervous to go west because of this but when I thought about the little pups I knew I had to go no matter the risk. I follow the dancing lights in the sky as though they are my guide. It leads me to the Gaping Maw mountains; the rocks are jagged like the teeth of a Chum salmon. I remember my pack along with many others used to live in the Gaping Maw. But then the two-legs came, drove us out of our dens and stole them from us. I knew there was a small plains area deeper within. Long-horned bison like to graze there and I can smell them not to far off. I can also smell those two-legs. They must be hunting tonight as well.

I stumble over the rocky terrain, carful not to make a sound. The slightest pebble when dropped can echo for miles across these mountains. Even in the dead of winter the mountains curve and bend in such a way that nothing below their peeks can be touched by the snow. I am grateful to be sheltered from the cold. However, the snow was the only thing keeping my pale white fur from being noticed. Now I’m exposed liked a single drop of blood on a white sword lily. As I stalk deeper into the mountain I can smell the long-horned bison ever clearer. My jowls water at the though of my teeth sinking into that beasts’ meaty hide. I’m shaking with anticipation at the mere thought of the kill and saliva trickles out of the corners of my lips.

Small blades of grass peek their way through the trodden gravel beneath my feet. Soon there is nothing but wispy bluegrass all around me, providing considerable cover to stalk my prey. I can see the long-horns now, in the middle of the spotty patches of grass they graze lazily. I creep closer and closer till I’m a single leap from the fattest of the herd. I get ready to pounce and as I do the hairs on the nape of my neck stand on end.

I smell a two-leg, not three feet from where I am crouched. How on earth I didn’t notice it till now disturbs me. I lie in wait, watching carefully for the two-leg to reveal itself. They are known to be loud and stupid but nonetheless very dangerous. I look through the grass all around me, I don’t see him. Until I feel the grass next to me sway unnaturally against the gentle wind. I look to my left and there it is, a two-leg. It holds a stick in its hands and crouches low to the ground like I do. It hasn’t noticed me and I hope it stays ignorant to my presence. I watch the two-leg stalk my prey, waiting for the right moment to steal it away when it’s not looking. The funny looking beast has little to no fur, only a long black tail on top of its head. The two-leg slowly rises on its hind haunches. The stick rises with it, the end of which is curiously sharp. Suddenly the two-leg throws it and it soars through the air, imbedding itself deep into the hide of the long-horn. The prey staggers then falls as the rest of the herd make a mad dash to escape their hunters.

The two-leg stands fully erect now and prances over to the dead beast. With its back turned against me, the hunter becomes the hunted. I follow after the two-leg and prepare to pounce. Before I can, the beast freezes and turns suddenly to face me. I look into its eyes stunned and growl fiercely. The two-leg falters and tries stepping further away from me. Without noticing, the creature steps off the edge of the mountain and falls into the canyon. I watch its face widen as its eyes grow to twice their size and its mouth flops open to let out a guttural cry of distress.

I leap to the edge to see where the two-leg has fallen to. But to my surprise, the two-leg is holding onto the canyons edge with a single paw. It wiggles an shakes about and its eyes look up at me in fear. I don’t know what goes through my mind. I should take the food and go back to the den.

I reach down and latch onto the fur coat that two-legs like to borrow from my kind. I pull this creature back onto solid ground and hop away from it just as quickly. The beast scuttles to its feet and stares at me for a while. When its eyes wander to the dead bison I bare my teeth and growl. I remember the strange way the two-leg killed the long-horn and I retrieve the stick from its stuck corpse and toss its weapon into the canyon. The creature raises its front limbs as it sidesteps closer to the bison. I growl deeper but when the two-leg produces another weapon hidden in its furs I don’t get any closer. The two-leg crouches next to the bison, saws off the back legs and tosses them at me. With its weapon, it points at the meat and then at me. I’m unsure if this is a gesture of offering or a challenge, nothing these creatures do make sense to me. I decide to take a chance and scoop up the hind legs into my mouth and back away quickly. The two-leg stands still and watches me, not letting go of the weapon in its paw. When I’m a safe enough distance away I turn on my heals and run back to the den.

Why did I save that two-leg I wonder, Why did he share his kill? Questions for myself as well as for the two-leg ring in my ears. Perhaps I’ll never find the answers for them.

Back at the den father has caught a snow hare and a quail but not much else. He inquires about why I have only brought parts of my prey back instead of all of it. I tell him they were pieces left over from a carcass. He scoffs and accuses me of eating all of the bison and only saving scraps for the rest of them. I could argue that what I’ve brought is more than he could manage to catch. But I don’t argue and I go to sleep without eating a mouthful that night. It’s fine by me as I was already planning on giving my food to mother and the little ones. They looked happy and thanked me for the meal after father had gone to sleep. That night I dreamt of bison and hunting, and for some reason a two-leg was with me.

The next few nights went by in a blur. I continued hunting in the west as was my punishment for “stealing food”. Again and again I would meet the two-leg in the mountains. We were cautious of each other still but he would follow me as I tracked the prey and then he would either kill it or I would if I spotted it first. It became a sport almost to see who could spot and kill the prey first. Often times it was me but if the terrain made it difficult to get to, the two-leg would kill it with its weapon. I took to eating my share before I took the food back to the den. Father was still convinced I was eating the food before sharing it. He wasn’t entirely wrong, I just wasn’t eating as much as he gave me credit for. When I did eat my share of the kill I watched the two-leg cut the rest into smaller pieces he could carry. Afterwards we would part ways. Him traveling deeper into the mountains and I leaving them behind. I often thought of following him, my curiosity peeking. But I didn’t want to ruin this strange partnership we had formed.

One night when I came back from a hunt I heard barking and growling coming from the den. I rushed inside to see my father had Uki pinned under his claws. I dropped the food in the dinner pile, which was once again made fruitful with my share added to it.

“It is time for you to grow up young pup!” Father growled into my whimpering brothers face.

My mother sat in the corner with Tapeesa cowering between her and aunty. She had learned from last time not to say a word when father was in a rage.

“What are you doing,” I bark at him.

Father looks up at me with a scornful glare. “Don’t talk to me you traitor!” He snaps as he bats Uki away.

I stand between him and Uki and look him dead in the eyes. Father walks over to the food I’ve brought and picks it up. Instead of eating it he throw it out into the snow.

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed the stink of two-legs on the food you bring,” He says.

“I…I don’t know what you mean,” I falter.

Father barks a sarcastic HA as he stalks towards me.

“At first I thought I smelled two-legs because they hunt in the west. But it’s much more than that isn’t it Wolf!” Father raises he paw and slashes me across my face. “You’ve been hunting with those beasts! And brining home tainted meat! You would see to kill us all!” Again father slashes my face and goes to bite my neck.

I doge and claw and bite at his chest. He and I tumble and roll around the floor of the den. Father is much older than I, but he hasn’t fought in a real brawl for quite some time. Our bodies tumble outside into the snow as a storm picks up. I rip his left ear from his head and he retaliates by headbutting me and biting my shoulder. The biting and clawing gets more and more aggressive as the fight wages on. Blood stains my fur and paints the snow with splashes of rage. The howling wind clashes with the chaos of our battle. When we pull away from each other, we are both panting and exhausted. The blizzard snow bites into me like a thousand bees. Then father hears something strange. From the entrance of the den, little Uki is growling and barking at father. I see the rage spread across his face and I can’t react fast enough to stop him from charging at Uki. Father clamps his jaws around Ukis’ throat, he lifts him into the air so that is legs can’t touch the ground. With a few sudden shakes and bites, I heard Ukis’ neck break, his limp body falls to the ground.

Father turns to me. “leave Wolf.” Then he limps back into the den.

I can hear my mother crying and cursing the day I was born. I try to approach the den to see my brother one last time, but my aunty rushes out and barks at me to leave.

Reluctantly I leave my family, if I can call them that anymore. Perhaps is better this way, perhaps father will be less troublesome if I am gone. I hope beyond hope that is the case every day. At night I look up at the stars through the slanted peeks of the mountain. The two-leg and I sleep in the same den now and we keep each other fed and warm. Sometimes when I hear a Dire Wolf howling at night, I wander if it’s little Tapeesa all grown and healthy.