Stories of the Welfpack

Chapter 6

The Smoke Boy waited outside his hut, and was rewarded with a glimpse of the wolves. They never came alone and they never stopped pacing up on the side of the crater. He could hardly wait, every morning he hoped to see them.

They knew he was excited and interested, he always made that one noise, laughing, and bared his big uneven teeth in that Human way.

**Why do they do that? They always look like they’re trying to bite each other,** Red thought. **It takes some getting used to.**

**I am certain it means they are friendly,** Patch said, her young mind more sure of itself than ever.

The Winter had progressed finally into a light but windy snowfall, and while it was true that the temperature wasn’t bad, the animals had all but vanished. The rabbits had turned white but Sly knew just how to pace with their rapid direction shifts; there were a few other creatures which had remained in the area but hidden in their long-sleep dens.

The bears – there were quite a few here – remained outside their den until the snow, and then simply could not be roused. Even when a curious Star accidentally ran into one’s wide brown-colored rear, he backed out quietly and stuck his head back in to check: still asleep.

The big cats were a problem now, more than ever. The few tree-danglers, sloths which could hardly be seen against the foliage during Summer, were easy prey for the felines, considerably harder work for the elfin wolves. But one could feed the pack for days, so they remained vigilant as they hunted.

The cats wouldn’t think twice about stealing their hard-earned meat, and the wolves were far too skittish around the big long-tooth cats to steal any from them.

So an endless if slow progression of rabbits and badgers, pheasant and squirrel, even a beaver – but it hardly counted because it was already mostly dead when the wolves ‘caught’ it – were brought to the Human encampment. The wolves lived off the rest, but every few days they made an effort to bring something for the Smoke Boy.

They had no idea that the term they’d coined for him was also actually his name to the Humans too.

Sly was usually the one to bring the Humans the meat, and Patch would often be with him. She hardly ever ventured down into the crater, however; and while Smoke Boy didn’t know which one of the wolves was telling her not to, it was obvious to him that she was absolutely desperate to come sniff things out down there. He knew the feeling: he had always been warned not to go too far up the crater’s edge.

He’d dutifully been using their kills in the smoke house, stripping them of their hides – which he gave to his aunt because she was adept at making them soft and wearable – and gutting them before flaying the meat and hanging it to cure.

Smoke Boy put the guts and unusable remains in a wooden bucket, which one of the hunters would take out to a ravine nearby. They made sure to tightly cover it, because they knew that the local big cats were eating the remains.

To Smoke Boy, everyone won. They’d found friends in the wolf pack, though they still didn’t really understand why or how these wolves behaved the way they did. The cats remained away from their encampment, and the slop from the slaughter didn’t have to be buried and stink up the place.

On a particularly chill day, it was time for Smoke Boy to be amazed again. For he found half their pack sitting in front of the smoke house, Sly with his head tilted that silly way, and his little female friend with her head slunk down warily.

They were hungry, now. It had been decided that the last eight of days was enough to make them miserable: they could only find mice, and even the last of the squirrels were hiding too far up in trees to shake down. It was time to put this all to the test. Had the Humans been saving their meat like they had for themselves? Or did they eat it thinking it was all a gift?

Fortunately, Smoke Boy had been the one to decide who got what meats that last few days. They had indeed used one of the rabbits recently, but larger portions were available for everyone than usual. No one – Human or wolf – would starve this year.

When Smoke Boy saw the group, he got excited, his eyes bugged and bright, and he chittered to himself and probably others that now it was a great day. It was frigid, there was little snow on the air, but the air itself seemed solid with cold.

>>I surely wish that I had fur to keep me warm,<< Smoke boy said, talking as he often did to Sly. Sly was trying very hard to understand the boy’s speech. Patch as well, they shared thoughts on it often. This time, Smoke Boy put his skinny arms up to his shoulders, and gave off a vibration – he was cold, that was what the words meant. He vanished into the smoke hut and came back out with several small pieces, what looked to him like enough to keep the wolves happy for a bit.

**I don’t like how close you are to them,** Sly commented briefly to Patch, but she was happy just to have been invited down. Along with them were Notch and Tarfoot – two little wolves and two large ones. Notch and Tarfoot sat on the outside of their little group, penning in Patch for sure, and allowing Sly room to negotiate with the Human.

**He is kind, and smart, I like him,** Patch replied, almost sadly. **I wish I could understand his words. These Humans are friendly.**

**None of them has a wolf’s skin to wear,** Tarfoot said darkly, guarded. **I think that is a good sign.** It was clear that while she had encountered the worst of their kind, she herself was more interested in finding ways of peaceably living around Humans than scaring them off. Each of the elfin wolves had their own particular take on Humanity, but what they all agreed was that these particular ones were different.

**It tingles even more down here,** Patch thought to Beehive. It came through her mind, too, Beehive sensed something more than even when they were up on the side of the crater. **I wonder if there is an end to this sensation?**

**You will not be sniffing around,** Notch broke in, causing Patch to further lower her head, and look away from the Alpha. He gave a little whine, **I am not saying you’re wrong, though. This place … feels … odd.**

**In a good way,** Sly put in. They collected the skinned and hardened meats, they could barely tell which was what kind: Tarfoot grabbed what used to be the beaver’s back, while Notch carried off a mostly whole rabbit, Patch found the larger bird easy to pick up, and Sly managed to pick the two squirrels in one bite. Together they lifted their rears, and started off.

Patch turned to Smoke Boy, her tail raised in a friendly curl, and tried to bark her thanks – dropping her bird, and causing the Human to laugh and laugh. Embarrassed but still happier now to have something to share with the pack and fill their empty bellies, Patch took the bird back up, and scampered away into the forest with the others.