The Wounded Pack

#1 - Family

— Remember to be respectful. Our family has always been bound by honor to the clan — the Orc said to his young son, proudly.

— And don't forget to leave the offering at Durotan's memorial — his life mate added, her voice filled with joy.

— Our ancestors guide us — answered the boy, repeating the well taught lesson.

— Exactly, Naurosh — the father approved — . Salute every warrior you meet. And listen carefully to Drek'thar; you will have to assist him during the ceremony.

— Your brother will need your guidance; you are responsible for him — the mother added.

— I will take care of little Korghan — the kid said with enthusiasm, even though his youngest brother was far from being "little".

Tork looked at his sons and his chest swelled. All of them had been born in Azeroth, and contrary to the superstitions, they were incredibly resilient. Naurosh was six years old, and he was clever and cunning; Dunris was five, he was more patient than his siblings and had a talent for leadership; Korghan was three years old and he was already as tall and strong as his brothers.

— I wanna go to! — young Dunris complained, trying to roar to show his discontent.

— Hold on now, boy — Tork laughed — . You already received your blessing two years ago. Besides — he kneeled to meet his son face to face — , I'm going out for a hunt, and who will aid your mother in protecting our home if you leave too? — Dunris frowned, clearly upset — . Can you do that for me? For the honor of this family?

— For the honor — the kid finally answered, making it clear that he was doing it for honor and not for him. Tork smiled.

— Good — the orc replied, tapping the child's chest with his fist — . Latak! Orm! — he called as he stood up, and then he whistled loudly.

Two snow — white wolves came out of nowhere, hastily and ready for command. The three kids ran towards them, but the beasts awaited for their master's orders. The children pulled their ears and hair, and tried to climb over them; nevertheless, the wolves didn't complain, they were patient with the boys. In fact, they even seemed to be enjoying the moment.

— Latak, here — Tork asked — . You are bigger and stronger than Orm, thus you will carry Naurosh and Korghan. Orm, your senses are more keen, I want you to guide them safely.

The wolves didn't need to answer with words for him to know they had understood what he had said. Latak crouched next to Naurosh for him to mount. The oldest boy helped Korghan climb first, and then he hopped on. The wolf stood up and gazed upon Orm, expectantly. The second beast barked and departed, leading the way.

— It feels like yesterday when Naurosh first received his blessing... and now our third kid is on his way to meet with our ancestors — Otka said, giving a long sigh.

— Don't go soft on me now, Otka. The kid is watching — Tork said to her, just as Dunris ran into the house.

— Soft? — she punched him on his shoulder — . Soft you say? — she punched again; then, they both laughed.

— They will be fine — Tork said — . There's no single beast out there that they can't beat with Latak and Orm's aid.

— Will you be fine? — she asked then, emphasizing the word "you" as she stared at his bandaged arm.

— Please! This is only a scratch — it wasn't, but Tork was too proud to let anyone, not even his life mate, see he was in pain. Besides, he wore his wound with honor and pride, since no one else would've survived that accident but him. He was hunting when a landslide took him by surprise. In an outstanding feat of strength, Tork had outlasted it and, in the words of his brothers in arms, he had "tamed the landslide". He only broke his left arm where others would've died — . Did you know that in the village the warriors are calling me "Landslide"?