A Golden Hope (a wolf pack story)

Day 1: Part 5

     On the journey, half my mind's on the destination, and half's on the sights. Sure, I'm excited to get to where we're going, but I've never been this far south before. It's quite nice. There's no point in focusing on the end while ignoring the beginning. With Limpet running along beside me, and all the land in front of us, I take a moment (or several) to admire the Woods.

     The most important things about the Woods are the forests themselves. A rich mix of broadleaf and pointy trees, with the perfect amount of undergrowth: enough brambles and ferns for prey, but too little to hamper our running. Scattered through are mossy boulders and fallen trees; landmarks enough to prove that this is an ancient woodland, and it has survived everything time has thrown at it.

     Trees extend for lengths and lengths in the Woods. A large part of the main forest belongs to my old pack, while Limpter has claimed the smallest fringe of a patch of trees up east, preferring the open plains and river to heavy cover. Darough, meanwhile, straight-up ignored the lovely prey-rich greenery and took up in the mountains, home of rocky terrain and the angriest of birds. Don't get me wrong; I love the mountains from afar. They stand like watching giants, half-hidden by fog. Protecting us from the north. But they're a sight for me. Not a home.

     Darough must eat hawks, come to think of it. They'll scamper down here for elk, of course, but nothing else really lives up there. No wonder they're rumoured to have such strong legs.

     The elk. Despite our differences, all wolves of the Woods are united by one thing. Rivers. Flowing down the mountains, they carry the cleanest, coldest water I've ever tasted. And lovely overhanging banks of grasses, perfect shelter for fish and frogs. I think they eat such things in Limpter; they have a lot of water in their territory. Personally, I can't get past the smell. Forest mice and squirrels for me.

     But the elk follow the rivers. For all our different tastes, every wolf worth it's marrow knows the best and most honourable prey are the elk that migrate through here from spring to summer. There is no sight more enticing than a herd of elk picking their way along a creek. So many velvety heads and legs and that clicking sound their hooves and antlers make. It's very exciting. And oh, to be part of a hunt! So many wolves working together, the bloodshed and adrenaline; there's nothing like it in all the world! My pack must have a celebratory hunt. I'm deciding it now. When the pack's all formed, when we've got enough wolves, we're going hunting. Together.

     But that's far in the future. For now, we've got to get there.

     "Holstin?" I can just hear Limpet over our thudding pawsteps.

     "Yeah?"

     "It's nearly night. Do you think we should rest soon?"

     I skid to a stop, kicking up a bit of forest debris. I hadn't even realized the sun was setting. But Limpet's right; the sky is awash in oranges and pinks, and the sun is half on the horizon. Time for bed. "Yeah," I say, "Let's find some shelter."

     Before long, Limpet and I have settled down under a stand of pine trees. Their branches should protect us from most weather, and will block out most of the light. The ground here is soft; it's easy to hollow out depressions large enough to sleep in. I stretch out on one side of the copse, Limpet curls up the other. We're well sheltered, even from wind, by the low-hanging branches. And it smells like the forest, still.

     "Well, goodnight Limpet."

     "'Night Holstin."

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A/N: Sorry for the late post! I've been on vacation, as it were. But here we are, a descriptiony page to rival dialogue-heavy Part 4! And finally, an end to Day 1.

Next part should be up on Tues as normal.

EDIT: Did I say Tues as normal? I meant not Tuesday as not normal. Apologies.

EDIT 5/31/18: I've made minor edits to these 5 past pages. Nothing world-changing. Oh, and hey y'all ;)