The Last Wolf

**On the night mankind silenced the wolves, the moon kept one secret.**

Jetoan burned beneath her light. One by one, the voices that had sung to her for generations disappeared, until the mountains knew only the crackling of fire and the cries of the dying.

But far below, where the river slipped quietly beyond the reach of torchlight, a basket drifted with the current.

Inside slept a child who did not know he was being orphaned.

A child born without claws, without fur, and without the howl of his ancestors.

A child the hunters would look upon and see only human.

His mother had given him no armor against the world that had destroyed their kind.

She had given him something better.

**She had made him impossible to recognize.**