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| It was dead midnight, no moon in the sky and the land as black as shadow. A great-horned owl circled over the field of tall grass, looking for prey with his sharp vision. Small movements in the waves of plant life caught his attention, but he immediately dismissed them. Much too big to be a mouse or rabbit. There were three of these forms in the darkness, moving silently through the field. Three adult gray wolves, and they were on a mission. One paused as they went to take a delicate sniff at the cold air. This was Corvid, mostly black except for the white boots on his forelegs and spots over his yellow eyes. He was small for his age and had been brought along because he was exceptionally fast. Corvid was nervous, he didn't like something about the darkness. There was an ill omen in the air, but he couldn't name it. One of the other two noticed his stop and nudged him in the flank as she passed. Corvid didn't jump, he just continued to slink along and try to catch Skath's eye. It had been Skath who poked him, and she was in charge. However, the she wolf failed to notice him. Corvid didn't speak though. What they were doing was dangerous, they were not in their pack land, or terra as the wolves said. Spying was an offense worthy of death. The third wolf in the scouting party was oblivious to his companions. He was a dangerous color for a spy, white as fresh snow without a dark hair on his body. He would have been easy to spot if he hadn't slunk so low his belly fur dragged the ground. He kept his eyes, also the same mustard hue as Corvid's, dead ahead. Boran was always like this, but he was a solid fighter and noticed details. He trusted that Skath could get them in and out of here smoothly and successfully, nobody doubted her abilities. Skath was a rather ordinary looking wolf with a bit more orange on her face than was average and clever brown eyes. She was one of the most elite spies in the pack and was distinguishable because she had lost the end of her right ear in a fight two years ago. Most of the pack's young males had a crush on her at some point in their lives. "Halt," she hissed suddenly, softly, to her companions. They did so immediately and silently. Skath took a few short sniffs at the air, then turned her head to the left. "We're off course," she said. "The den site is that way." At the words "den site" Corvid's heart began to hammer away in his throat. If they messed this up, they would be publicly torn into tiny pieces by the resident wolves. The party continued, leaving the open grass and weaving into the forest next to it. It was even darker here, but the brush did not provide cover as well as the grass had. There was a great tension in the air that Corvid was sure he could touch if he reached out with a paw. Suddenly, Boran's ears shot up and he snarled. Skath twisted around quickly, her own ears perked to listen. Their position was no secret now that the white wolf had growled, and in seconds another wolf leapt from the foliage with savage snarl, sinking his teeth into the white spy's left shoulder. Boran gave a roar of anger and pain, flashing his teeth along the stranger's neck before he could let go. Corvid felt adrenaline surging in he veins as several more wolves melted out of the darkness and surrounded the three. He did not know any of these strangers, but he knew the Sivra pack scent on their coats as well as his own. This was their terra, and they were probably not happy about finding three Kurnith spies here. One howled loudly, calling for other pack wolves. Corvid eyed Skath nervously. If anyone could get them out of this, it was her. "Well well well, what have we here, Doblan?" Corvid caught the scent of another Sivra approaching seconds before he appeared. This one he knew to be Skevlin, the Sivran beta male. He was second only to the alphas in rank and had come to the Kurnith with them when the Treaty was decided on. He was a tall wolf and rather thin, but he was as agile as a weasel and bit twice as hard. Corvid did not think even he could outrun the silver-pelted beta. The wolf Skevlin had spoken to lifted his head and ears sharply in attention. "Kurnith spies, sir," he said obediently. Skevlin already knew this, but it was polite to ask. "Really now? Do you know what we do with spies, Doblan?" the beta went on, also knowing this answer. "We kill them, sir." Corvid managed not to flinch. Skevlin looked them all over and the black wolf felt like he was being sliced open by the beta's cold gray eyes. "So, Kurniths, do you have anything to say for yourselves before we tear out your throats?" he asked almost casually. Skath nodded and bowed her head. Boran and Corvid followed suit. "Yes, Betan Skevlin. (It was always best in these situations to use a wolf's full title) We have been sent by the Kurnith pack to offer congratulations on the birth of Alphess Riska's pups," replied Skath calmly. Actually, it had been their job to count the pups and report back to the alphas, but that did not seem like it would happen now. Skevlin gave a small ridiculing bark, looking at them all with disdain. "It looks like your manners in the Kurnith pack are slipping, dear wolf. Since when do you simply waltz into another terra without as much as a howl, or even a gift?" he asked. Skath knew he would, it was the commonest courtesy to howl when entering another pack land for any reason. Also it was considered good will to bring a gift to the new mother after she had whelped. The spies had done neither. "We were in such a hurry, Betan, that we did not have time," she replied evenly. Skevlin's lips curled away from his sharp fangs. "Be that as it may, spy, we do not like intruders on our terra at such delicate times. In the spirit of fairness, we will give you three seconds to run, then we will come after you. I will count. One..." Corvid was panicking now. He did not wait for Skath or Boran, he turned and did what he did best. He ran. The black wolf was blind to the world around him, he stumbled and staggered through the undergrowth, leaping and bounding, hammering the ground with his paws for all he was worth. He couldn't tell if he was being pursued or not, though he was dimly aware that one of the Sivran wolves had managed to slash him across the right flank with her fangs before having to stop running. The black wolf continued his panicked flight until he came to the river, the marker of the pack boundaries. He flung himself into it, swimming for all he was worth with what little strength he had left. Climbing the opposite bank with limbs trembling, the black wolf fell to the ground, bleeding from his flank wound. Corvid slowly descended into the blackness of unconsciousness as the energy-giving panic fled him and was replaced by sheer exhaustion. He had just run four or five miles and though no one would ever know it, he had done it faster than any wolf before him. |