Blood of the Pack

Autumn struggled and gasped it's last breath against the grasp of the cold winter. The chilling winter breeze snatched the last of the dead leaves that had clung stubbornly to their branches. A light snow covered the ground, as if insuring the inhabitants of the Northwood that Winter's victory was close at hand. The moon smiled down on earth as it had for thousands of years, spreading the light it received from the sun to the dark, frozen world below. Thick, bare trees filled the Northwood territory, and in the vast, uncharted forests dotted a lonely evergreen, refusing to give up and living on. The evergreens were not alone in their stand against the winter. A lonely howl fills the air, and another howl answers. The forset is filled with the music of magic that rings from the throats of the wolves. They were meeting once again, to form a pack and survive yet another long, deadly winter.
"Please, take my sister with you. She won't survive on her own," a small brown wolf begged the gathered pack of 12 wolves. A small girl with green eyes and black hair stood behind the wolf, her eyes filled with dread.
"We have no use for a bastard child. We have no dealings with vampires," A larger, grey artic wolf spoke.
"She is werewolf as well. Respect her father's blood." the smaller wolf pleaded. "I can't leave her behind. If you don't take her, then you won't take me." the wolf snarled, baring his teeth.
"Then you both will die, Jacob. It is not my fault that your father laid with a vampire whore," The leader snarled back. "This meeting is adjourned." The wolves turned to go.
"White-Fang, by the blood of the pack, I demand you to accept my sister!" Jacob snarled, blocking the leader from leaving. A gasp went up from the other wolves. White-Fang paused, his eyes searching for sincerity.
"I vowed to keep Whisper safe," Jacob answered, looking back at the small girl.
The Blood of the Pack. A ritual of battle to the death... By one death another was freed. Or were they???