Wolves of Black Pine

Shaman Gray Shadow

WHISPERS FLITTED about the hushed atmosphere of the clan council room, hard to pinpoint to any one particular were-child. The fire crackled softly, shooting out short-lived sparks high above the red hot coals. The great room was dark the only light, the fire centered deep in the sunken floor, casting its orange glow on the stone tiers that rose up along the walls of the council house. Scents of sage, smoke and pine, wet fur and warm blood mingled, an intoxicating blend that teased the senses of the many cubs huddled expectantly at the feet of the Shaman. He raised his gaze around the room, and the few fools brave enough to be whispering quickly quieted. He settled back on his seat, the great stone chair well-worn and adorned with thick bearskins. It was a place of honor reserved for Alphas and Shamans, and woe be to the foolish werewolf who was neither yet sat there uninvited.

His eyes flashed silver in the flames, and the air moved in an inexplicable breeze that smelled of cool winter nights hunting under a full moon. It was summer now, yet the shaman's power rose within the council house, changing the air's scent, the temperature, even the atmosphere.

The Great Shaman began his tale, and the shadows around the stone throne shimmered, gaining depth and movement. He spoke, and as the tale began, his words and will spun out the images of ancient wolves running across snow swept tundra, great gray beasts with shaggy coats and jaws bred to bring down the greatest of prey and predator alike.

***

KANE, HEIR to Black Pine Clan, sat carefully in the back of the council house, unnoticed by the fidgeting cubs. He'd snuck away from the party in the square, the gathering's last night drawing a huge crowd. Beer and wolfkin usually led to fights, sex, and Challenges, and he wanted no part of any of the three. His place as Heir was secured, by his Alpha's decree and Kane's mastery of his own gifts as an alpha, so no challenger, even drunk, dared step forward. Beer didn't keep wolves drunk for long, their metabolism burning the alcohol off quickly, so there was enough on hand to drown a fraternity, and the stench was too much for him. And the sex held little appeal, as the majority of unmated wolves at the bonfire were females looking for an unattached alpha or high-ranking beta to seduce into a last minute mating pact before the gathering ended. Most of the females who hadn't found a mate this gathering were the ones worth avoiding, too cloying and clingy, more interested in a prospective mate's rank and influence than the poor male himself.

Kane wanted no part of that. He had his own lover, and Burke was exactly what he needed, what they both needed. Neither were interested in creating a bond outside of casual sex and friendship. Burke was more his friend than lover, anyway, and as the other alpha was his lieutenant as well, romance would just makes things messy. Running the Clan, hunting, and an occasional fuck kept them going.

The fire was reduced to embers, and Kane was glad for it, not wanting to disturb the Shaman or the cubs by bringing attention to himself, the darkness deep enough to hide his bulk as he hid in the back. An adult at what was ostensibly a history lesson but felt more like story time would just ruin the magic.

And magic was what this was. Shaman's magic, spirit magic. Kane never grew out of his childish fascination with it, and it still stung to some degree that when he hit puberty and his gifts emerged, he became an alpha instead of a shaman. He was happy now, but it would have been all kinds of fun as a young teen to experience even half of what the weakest of shamans could do.

Kane let himself slip away to his childhood, feeling like a cub again, watching as the Clans' greatest shaman spun history lessons and tales of legend out of shadows and smoke.

***

GRAY SHADOW sat above the children and youths of his clan, and he met as many of their wide-eyed stares as he could. The great gathering of the wereclans of the Northern Appalachians and the surrounding ranges brought many children this year, more than in gatherings past; their people were thriving, even with the advent of humanity and their aggravating technologies. The humans' last Great War was long over, and the clans had flourished in the wake of all the young human males dying so far from these shores. There was less competition for land, jobs, and food, and as long as they kept to the Laws of clan and man, and were vigilant, the clans were able to expand their territories. Once smaller packs were growing in numbers. That Great War was generations past now, and this new modern era was blessed with plenty enough young wolves to cause havoc and mayhem.