Wild Watchtower: Shield & Claw Book One

Chapter Two: Home to the Watchtower

We'd followed the herd for three days, but only to learn our prey. We'd tracked them long enough to work out which of their number would be easiest, theoretically, to take down. We had no such goal during our return trip. Rather than tracking winding deer trails, we stayed on the easiest paths, those free from undergrowth and obstacles, and the journey took half as long, in spite of my uncle's injury.

We also abandoned any notion of remaining hidden in favour of easing Aonair's journey, but no one minded that. Our need for stealth ended the moment we caught our prey, and as a group, we had no reason to fear attack of any kind. No lone stranger would be foolish enough to assail the pack, and centuries had passed since our ancestors last needed to 'discourage' brigand bands and invaders from making their homes in the shadows of the oak wood. We were safe together. Safe in a way I wouldn’t have felt if out on my own.

In truth, if it hadn't been for Aonair's leg, the return journey would've been jubilant. Even with our beta limping along between his mate and my father, the rest of us took pleasure in the trek. The beauty of our territory made it impossible not to. The dappled light of the late summer sun shone through leaves, which would soon begin to orange and fall. It gave the wood a magical, ethereal quality. Shafts of brilliance broke through the glowing green canopy, gently banishing the forest gloom to cheer even the most anxious among us.

Taibhreamh amused us all as he danced between the glowing streamers, the relaxed stroll and atmospheric beauty easing his usual skittishness. His posture lost the tense set which he'd adopted almost as soon as he descended to the rank of omega, and he looked happy. Genuinely happy. Rather than trailing behind the pack he darted out in front, bounding along the path and then spinning towards us and lowering his chest, his haunches still up as he gave us a canine grin. He banged his forepaws on the ground, asking to play, to chase, to enjoy a moment of freedom where neither hierarchy nor duty had a place.

The request came with risks. Our siblings had unpredictable temperaments and sometimes Taibhreamh's antics led to our brothers reminding him of his place on the bottom rung. At other times his carefree behaviour encouraged our more serious siblings to lighten up. As omega, Taibh took the risk, walking a perilous line between being scorned for his so-called flaws - his lack of physical strength and his penchant for being a dreamer - and being adored for his ability to instigate fun.

Luckily, Cróga felt the need for a game as much as Taibh did, and he bounced after our younger sibling with his tail high, his ears forward and his own broad grin in place. Éirimiúil and Céillí quickly joined the chase as well, although Iontaofa chose to stay close to his father rather than participate.

Our cousin's reticence didn't surprise me; he must've suffered extensive bruising when the hind kicked him. But even uninjured, he often felt uncomfortable intruding in our games. Being a cousin rather than a sibling had its drawbacks, certainly, but we all had our burdens to bear. Most of the time I felt equally hesitated to join in games. Being only one step ahead of omega myself, I had no desire to push my luck and offend one of my stronger siblings.

Still, as I watched the others bound along, pouncing at each other and yipping, with their tongues lolling from lupine grins of delight, I couldn't resist. Leaping forward, I raced towards Éirimiúil, lowering my own chest and head, and copying the playful pose which Taibhreamh had used to initiate the game. My russet furred brother barked in response and dived at me, lunging faster than I'd expected. As I spun away, he nipped at my tail, lightly catching the tip before I managed to move beyond his reach. Not that a little nip would slow me down. He'd have to do much better than that...

Quickly putting distance between us, I charged ahead, sprinting hard enough to feel the burn in my muscles. Éiri followed, his paws pounding on the dirt track behind me, a regular drum beat which accompanied the insect chirrups and bird song of the woods. Running through the wilderness let me feel uninhibited, and that was a rare treat. It was a gift I enjoyed more than I could put into words, especially as I darted past Cróga, Céillí, and Taibh.