One of Runts

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-One: Endurance of All Kinds

        My chest rises and falls as I grab the water bottle out of Azrael's hands, having already drained my own a few minutes ago. It's been about four hours since I started running and many of the wolves have already dropped out.

        They hadn't heeded the King's words when he said not to make it a competition and to pace yourself. Instead, they decide to run full tilt and mess around with one another. The first half dropped out within the first hour.

        Since all the jokers ended up dropping out quickly, the rest of us have been running at a trotting pace. Not too fast and not too slow. Right now only about three other people are standing-well running-and I can see at least one of them beginning to strongly pant.

        I have the advantage here, however. Being a runt, it's in my blood to run as long and as fast as I can should there be any danger. I am the only runt in the endurance running test, though there is another who has already tested their strengths.

         I tried not to look at them because I know that they were too weak compared to our pack's warriors. I'll most likely be like that since not only am I a runt, but I'm a tracker. Trackers don't usually have to worry about fighting a lot of wolves as we only go after one or two at a time, or we just track down a scent.

        We don't really do that much heavy lifting in the pack, usually hunting down lone rogues or helping find various wild greens and others stuff; such as mushrooms and truffles.

          "Slow down," Azrael says, airily chuckling as I gulp down water. I'm not sure if he's actually talking about my pace or how quickly I'm sucking down the water in his bottle. I hand it to him and he takes a swig out of hit, lightly panting beside me.

        He's a few feet away from me and his eyes are dark brown. He's having trouble with my scent as the scent of a female in heat intensifies if they do any form of exercise. Whenever any female was on heat, we had to stick to easier duties in the pack.

         Our scents are too strong to hide and it would compromise our position if we were hunting or on patrol. We would usually help around with cooking, cleaning, and meager stuff such as watching the pups or gathering greens.

         "You look like you're in trouble," I speak to him through mind-link, not needing to worry about the wolves around us listening in. He just huffs slightly and picks up his pace to meet mine.

        Since he's a regular wolf, he's having trouble keeping pace. Regular wolves tend to get tired more easily if running for a long period of time at a constant pace. I frown as his panting increases.

        I'm panting, but not as hard as he is. He shouldn't be panting this hard, I think to myself, worried. He's got royal blood and should easily keep pace.

        "Do you want me to slow down?" I ask him, watching as he continues to take panting breaths through his mouth. He shakes his head and takes a swig out of his water bottle.

        "It's your scent," he tells me, switching to talking through mind-link. It being too hard to talk aloud. "Before I was able to tolerate it, but now...?" He growls lowly in his throat, it being barely audible.

        "It's gotten stronger as I exercise more," I finish for him, my already flushed cheeks growing darker. He just nods stiffly, jogging a few feet away from me. "I can stop...?"

        He shakes his head roughly at me. "No. You don't have to stop running because of me." I bite my lip and look around me at the track. There are only two other wolves, the one panting from earlier having just dropped out.