A New Arrival

The wind howled angrily through the trees, blowing snowflakes every which way and shunting the smaller trees from side to side. The storm clouds made the night sky seem as black as pitch, and chest-deep snow blanketed the grassy ground. Every living creature was in a burrow, tree, or den, safe and shielded from the vicious storm; every living creature, that is, except for one lone wolf.
She would never have been noticeable if it weren’t for her copper-colored fur, which even now was slowly turning white with ice. She stumbled along, freezing and weak, not knowing where she was or where she was going. Her eyelids were half-shut, frozen together, so she often ran into trees or stumbled on a root or rock. Her mind was utterly blank; she thought of nothing except the fact that it was cold. She didn’t know who she was; she couldn’t even remember her own name.
The wolf surely would have died if it weren’t for fate; as she got ready to collapse, she ran into a large tree. She didn’t know it, but that tree was a den for another wolf. This wolf wasn’t just any wolf, however; he was the Healer for the Pack of the Forest!
The wolf, a handsome reddish-brown elder named Flamefang, managed to push the wooden ‘door’ open enough to squeeze out of his den. Ears laid back and body braced against the storm, he padded carefully around the side of his den, trying to ignore the bitter chill, to investigate for whatever had hit his tree. He gasped in a mouthful of snowflakes when he saw the she-wolf’s still form heaped in the snow. Calling to his apprentice, Ripple, to assist him, Flamefang picked his way towards the wolf. It was nearly impossible to see between the darkness and the snow, but with Ripple’s help he managed to lug the she-wolf into his den.
The tree was warm and insulated, with a broad single room and a high enough ceiling so that wolves could stand comfortably, but it wasn’t high enough to be in danger of snapping in a violent storm. There were several nests available for potential occupants. The Pack of the Forest had been lucky that winter, however; the only current patient was the half-frozen copper she-wolf.
Flamefang and Ripple gently set the wolf down upon a large nest of fresh grasses and moss that had been collected the day before the storm. They covered the wolf with more foliage and set her by a tiny flickering flame surrounded by stones. It gave off a comforting aura, and after giving the wolf special herbs and laying next to her to transfer heat, Flamefang judged that she’d be all right in a couple of days. The wolf would survive.
The next day, the three wolves found themselves snowed into their tree. No amount of heaving against the wooden panel could shove the snow away enough to get out. In that case, Flamefang and Ripple broke into their emergency stash of food. Anticipating this exact situation, the Hunters had done extra work the other day and had provided each den with fresh birds, mice, and other small meat. After eating their share, the Healer and his apprentice fed the wolf, who was still unconscious. To do this, Flamefang had to pre-chew the she-wolf’s food and force it down her throat. When this was done, the male wolves attended to other matters until it was time to care for the she-wolf again.
This pattern went on for the rest of that day and the next.
Finally, on the third day after the storm, the snow had melted enough to allow the den doors to open. Wolves streamed out of the trees, greeting their friends and making sure that everyone was okay. The Alpha Male, Smallforest, and his Alpha Female, Foxheart, went from wolf to wolf giving out the remnants of their food and reassuring their packmates.
Flamefang went up to his leader and said quietly, “Smallforest, we have a new arrival.”
Smallforest excused himself from a worried wolf and followed Flamefang into the den. To Smallforest’s surprise, Ripple was nursing a beautiful- and conscious- copper colored wolf!
Ripple looked up, smiling, when his mentor walked in. The she-wolf watched the two warily as they sat down in front of her. She met Smallforest’s gaze bravely, almost defiantly. 
“She bumped into my tree during the storm,” Flamefang explained to Smallforest. “She’s been here ever since.”
“You are very lucky, young one,” Smallforest addressed the she-wolf in a calming bass voice. “To have survived a storm like that must’ve taken much resistance. Do you know your name?”
“I’m Meltbreath,” The she-wolf said in a quiet, melodious voice. “And you are?”
“I’m Smallforest, Alpha Male for the Pack of the Forest. This is my Healer, Flamefang,” He inclined his head towards the reddish-brown, black-eyed wolf, “,and his apprentice, Ripple.” He gestured at the brown wolf that lay by Meltbreath’s side.
“Hello to you all,” She said. “So, I’m in the Pack of the Forest?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t know what that is.”
The male wolves looked at each other in shock. It wasn’t possible to be a wolf upon the island of the Star and not know about the Pack of the Forest.
“Do you know what the Pack of the Grass is?” Smallforest quizzed, thinking of his pack’s closest neighbor. 
Meltbreath shook her head. “I have no idea.”
“What about the Pack of the Snow?”
“Look, I don’t know about any ‘pack’,” Meltbreath said irritably. 
“Okay,” Smallforest said calmly. “Where are you from, then?” Meltbreath got a strange look on her face, like someone trying to remember a distant memory that wasn’t really there. 
“I… don’t know.”
"She must have an illness,” Flamefang diagnosed. “Are you well enough to walk?”
“Yes.”
“Come with me, then. It’s time for you to meet our Pack.”
Smallforest nodded and exited the den. Flamefang, Ripple, and Meltbreath listened while Smallforest called a meeting by howling to his Pack. 
“The storm has devastated us,” Smallforest began with no honeyed preamble. “I need every wolf that feels unwell to report to Flamefang immediately and Goldenstripe will organize a patrol to go hunting after this meeting. But first… Flamefang, you both may come out now.”
Flamefang nodded at Meltbreath, who climbed unsteadily to her feet. Supported by Ripple, she followed Flamefang out of the den.
Meltbreath’s blue eyes squinted against the sun as she allowed the apprentice pup to lead her towards the center of the camp, where Smallforest stood by Foxheart on a broad stump that was almost completely covered with snow. He smiled at her as she came to a stop by the stump.
“This is Meltbreath!” Smallforest yelled over the clamoring crowd. “She doesn’t remember who she is or where she came from. For the time being, she will stay with us. You are to treat her as an equal. Foxheart will train her to be a Fighter, as her lithe, strong body suggests.” 
After this announcement, Smallforest switched to more trivial matters. Flamefang and Meltbreath stayed by the stump, not having been dismissed. Meltbreath surveyed the crowd from her position. Usually attentive eyes strayed towards the new copper-colored wolf with stunning aerial eyes. She watched them back, taking in each face and storing it away in her empty memory.
Finally, the meeting was adjourned. Smallforest and Foxheart leapt down from the stump, and the rest of the crowd dispersed to do their assigned job. A patrol went out to search for intruders or prey robbers and a hunting party went to fetch more food. Goldenstripe-Meltbreath remembered the name- led the hunting party. As she brushed by Meltbreath, she gave her a hostile look. Meltbreath met her gaze evenly but wondered how someone could already look at her like that after five minutes.
Foxheart, the Alpha Female, padded up to Meltbreath. She had the same black patches as Smallforest but her eyes were a hard orange color instead of her mate’s green.
“Meltbreath,” Foxheart addressed the new arrival in a sharp, straightforward voice. Meltbreath nodded. “I will be your mentor to train you as a Fighter. You will never truly be accepted in a Pack until you have a title. I will provide that for you.”
“Thank you,” Meltbreath said in a calm, even voice. “When will my training begin?”
“Immediately,” Foxheart answered. “Let’s go.”
The months passed; the snow melted and gave way to blooming foliage. Meltbreath got stronger every day; she competed with older wolves in races, tree-climbing contests, and other things. She rarely lost. Many male wolves fancied her, but she was strangely aloof from love and mating. She wanted to focus on her strength and stamina.
Another thing distracted her, though, besides her determination to fit in. Every night as she went to sleep she received a strange feeling of foreboding, and as she slept she had warped dreams of something bad. She could never put her paw on a source of the feelings or dreams, however, and because of this she never told anyone. 
Now it was early summer and the feelings were stronger than ever; the dreams became so violent that Meltbreath woke up in her den sweating and panting. Something bad was going to happen, she was certain.
The final straw was an extraordinarily vivid dream. Meltbreath was standing in a barren wasteland with scrubby bushes placed unevenly here and there. The wind was thick with grit, and she could barely see. The grit choked her when she opened her mouth to taste the air, so she had to keep it shut.
Suddenly, a chorus of wolves began to howl nearby. Meltbreath was confused; what were other wolves doing here?
The noises got closer very quickly. Suddenly, appearing through the dusty wind, the wolves came.
It looked like a huge pack of them: at least thirty males, females, and cubs. Their fur colors were many shades of brown and gray, and most were extraordinarily muscular. They ran like the wind, whooshing past Meltbreath with a speed like hers. They howled as they went, but the sound was menacing; the wolves were screaming for blood.
Their howls reverberated through the air long after they had gone. Meltbreath knelt down and covered her ears with her paws, but the wails couldn’t be blocked. They pounded her eardrums resoundingly, repeating their ominous call.
Meltbreath moaned, unnerved by the strange wolves and their bloodthirsty cries. She wanted to wake up, wanted the torture to be over…
Meltbreath gasped and opened her eyes. Her entire body was shaking and her ears ached as if the howls had beaten them. She had gotten the message and she couldn’t ignore it any longer.
The sun was just beginning to rise. Only a hunting patrol was moving around the camp, preparing to go out and replenish the food pile. Meltbreath padded out of her tree and made her way to the grandest oak in the camp. This was Smallforest and Foxheart’s den. 
She tapped on the wood with her nose and heard a grunt of admittance from inside. She nudged open the door and stepped in.
Foxheart lay curled in her nest, head between her paws. Smallforest fondly watched his mate sleep, his black eyes sparkling.
Smallforest looked at Meltbreath as she entered. “Greetings, my friend,” He inclined his head. “I trust you slept well?” “Hello, Smallforest,” Meltbreath bowed back. “Actually, I had a restless night. That’s what I’d like to talk about.”
Smallforest blinked, his eyes curious. “Come sit.” He invited, and she joined him as he padded back to his nest. When they were settled, he gazed at Meltbreath. “What’s bothering you?”
Meltbreath proceeded to tell her Alpha Male all about the premonitions and dreams that she had been having ever since winter. As Smallforest listened he grew more and more puzzled. When Meltbreath had finished he was silent for a moment.
“Well?” Meltbreath pressed.
“Well, this is just a guess,” Smallforest said slowly. “I think that you may be getting clips of your old life.”
Category:Fanfictions