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Description
Free, free, finally free!

Runt was ecstatic as he tore across the frozen tundra. No more being Legsnapper's personal whipping pup. No more being forced to play bait in risky ambushes. No more being forced to eat last, after even the pups had picked a carcass clean. He was free.

The winter wolf unsuccessfully fought the urge to frolic as he ran. The rest of his old pack wouldn't notice his absence until morning, and he'd be long gone by then. Bloody Snow, the pack leader, would probably pick Chillpaw to be the pack Runt then. A pack always had to have a Runt, after all, and that jerk Chillpaw totally had it coming, too.

A deep rumble in the pit of Runt's stomach snapped him out of his reverie and returned him to cold, hard reality: he needed food, and badly. And Runt had never hunted on his own before…

Oh well! If he was to find a new pack, he was going to have to be useful. And what better way to prove his worth than by bringing something down by himself? He could pull it off. Probably.

Holding his nose to the sky Runt sniffed the air. A moose, a caribou, a musk ox, maybe even a big cave bear or megaloceros or arctic griffin would make for a good trophy-offering. Another stomach rumble reminded Runt that right now he had to eat something, anything or return to the pack in disgrace. Unfortunately, there wasn't so much as a rabbit or vole's scent on the wind.

Wait! There was a scent… smoke. That meant fire, and that meant humans. It was a pretty odd-smelling human, but it was better than nothing. With hunger motivating his scrawny legs Runt took off in a lope, following the scent.

It wasn't too long before the winter wolf realized he was headed for the cliff cave. It was a tiny cave in the sheer rock face. Bloody Snow always said it was a good spot to ambush prey trying to take shelter there. And now there was a funny-smelling two-leg there, bundled in mammoth hides and tending a small fire.

Runt hunkered low and crept towards the camp. He was hungry, but also had enough wits to stay cautious. He planned to sneak close enough to use his frigid breath to freeze the two-legger dead and snuff out that nasty fire. He just had to get a little closer…

Runt froze as the two-legger stirred, reached down, then flung something glistening, black, and delicious-smelling over her shoulder. It landed right in front of Runt and his eyes went wide.

Seal meat. Seal meat. That tasty treat he had not had since he was a pup, that which was denied him every time the rest of the pack returned from a hunt. Without thinking he pounced on it, gobbling it up in seconds. Then the two-leg threw another piece of meat.

"All yours, my hungry friend," the two-leg said with a chuckle. Her voice was strange to Runt's ears – it reminded him of wind blowing through tree branches. That was a secondary thought however as he all but inhaled the second piece of meat. So far this two-legger was giving Runt the best meal he'd had in years. Sharing was a mostly foreign concept to winter wolves; the meat you took away from a kill was yours and yours only, not even to be shared with one's mate. Of course the carcass would be dragged home for the pups and eventually the Runt to feed, but that was it.

As Runt enjoyed the sensation of a half-full stomach, the two-legger pulled out something small and round from the bag that smelled of seal meat.

"You know, the locals told me that seal eyes were sweet like candy and were to be relished. Call me cynical, but that sounds like the sort of thing you tell gullible travelers for a good laugh. Here, you tell me if they're telling the truth."

With that the two-legger tossed the eyeball in a high arc, letting Runt get under it and snap it out of the air. The winter wolf's tail started to wag as he chewed the eyeball, as it was indeed sweet and delicious.

"Looks like that cynicism was misplaced," the two-leg said, turning around to face Runt and pulling back her hood. Runt had never seen a two-leg like her before; her skin was green like pine trees, her eyes were big and bright yellow, and most shockingly had no head-fur.

"So tell me, my hungry friend, do you have a name?" the two-leg-who-was-not-a-human asked. "I know you can speak, so no sense playing dumb."

Runt finished off the seal eye and hesitated. With food in his belly Runt was better able to assess things. First of all, this two-leg was GIVING him food. Normally when a two-leg and winter wolf met, the former tried to burn the latter while the latter tried to freeze the former. And why would someone freely give away meat? Could it be that two-legs somehow had more food than they could ever eat and not hoard it?

All the meat he could eat. That sounded like heaven.

"I am… was, Runt," he answered, his voice cautious.

"Ahhhhh, a Runt. That explains some things," the two-leg said, nodding, "tired of being abused and underfed?"

"Yes… but I will find a new pack and hunt with them and be treated better…"

"How certain are you that another pack would accept you? Would your old pack allow a former runt to join?"

That simple question hit Runt like a charging mammoth. He could easily see Bloody Snow pretending to welcome a new wolf into the pack, distracting them while Legsnapper casually came up behind them and broke a hind leg. Then the rest of the pack would pounce…

Runt whimpered and shook his head. No, he could present a new pack with a freshly-slain mastodon and they'd simply kill him and steal the carcass. That was the winter wolf way. He had been a complete fool to think differently.

"There's always a Plan C, you know."

Runt perked up, mainly because he thought the green woman had said 'Plan Seal'.

"You could come with me. I won't beat you or make you starve. You'll be the beta in a pack of two."

Runt blinked in confusion. "A pack without a runt? But… but a pack always has to have a runt… that's the rule…"

"Do you have anything to gain by following that rule?"

"I… ," Runt trailed off and laid down on the snow. He wasn't used to all this thinking, he had to stop and let it all process.

"Exactly," the green woman said as she stood up and stretched before tending to the fire. For a long time there was no sound but the crackle of the flames and the occasional howl from the wind.

"I… I will go with you," Runt said finally. They were some of the most carefully thought words he had ever spoken.

"A wise choice," the green woman said reassuringly, turning back to face Runt, "you can call me Kassidan, my new beta."

Runt's tail wagged a little before he realized something: if he was no longer a Runt, what was to be his name? "Beta" hardly sounded good…

Kassidan seemed to realize this as well. "So, former Runt, what shall we call you?"

Runt had just thought of the perfect name and sat up proudly, "I am now Mammothslayer Razortooth, Terror of the White Plains!"

Twenty minutes later, Kassidan had gotten ahold of her laughter.

"It's certainly… ambitious," Kassidan said, wiping a tear from her eye, "But a bit cumbersome. How about we just call you 'Chief' for now?"

Chief. Simple and powerful, two things Runt could appreciate. He wagged his tail "I like it."

"Very well then," Kassidan said, grabbing her sleeping kit, "I'd like to get some sleep before we get moving at sunrise. Please stand guard and wake me at dawn, will you?"

Chief nodded with pride, eager to serve his new pack of two.

Description
Free, free, finally free!

Runt was ecstatic as he tore across the frozen tundra. No more being Legsnapper's personal whipping pup. No more being forced to play bait in risky ambushes. No more being forced to eat last, after even the pups had picked a carcass clean. He was free.

The winter wolf unsuccessfully fought the urge to frolic as he ran. The rest of his old pack wouldn't notice his absence until morning, and he'd be long gone by then. Bloody Snow, the pack leader, would probably pick Chillpaw to be the pack Runt then. A pack always had to have a Runt, after all, and that jerk Chillpaw totally had it coming, too.

A deep rumble in the pit of Runt's stomach snapped him out of his reverie and returned him to cold, hard reality: he needed food, and badly. And Runt had never hunted on his own before…

Oh well! If he was to find a new pack, he was going to have to be useful. And what better way to prove his worth than by bringing something down by himself? He could pull it off. Probably.

Holding his nose to the sky Runt sniffed the air. A moose, a caribou, a musk ox, maybe even a big cave bear or megaloceros or arctic griffin would make for a good trophy-offering. Another stomach rumble reminded Runt that right now he had to eat something, anything or return to the pack in disgrace. Unfortunately, there wasn't so much as a rabbit or vole's scent on the wind.

Wait! There was a scent… smoke. That meant fire, and that meant humans. It was a pretty odd-smelling human, but it was better than nothing. With hunger motivating his scrawny legs Runt took off in a lope, following the scent.

It wasn't too long before the winter wolf realized he was headed for the cliff cave. It was a tiny cave in the sheer rock face. Bloody Snow always said it was a good spot to ambush prey trying to take shelter there. And now there was a funny-smelling two-leg there, bundled in mammoth hides and tending a small fire.

Runt hunkered low and crept towards the camp. He was hungry, but also had enough wits to stay cautious. He planned to sneak close enough to use his frigid breath to freeze the two-legger dead and snuff out that nasty fire. He just had to get a little closer…

Runt froze as the two-legger stirred, reached down, then flung something glistening, black, and delicious-smelling over her shoulder. It landed right in front of Runt and his eyes went wide.

Seal meat. Seal meat. That tasty treat he had not had since he was a pup, that which was denied him every time the rest of the pack returned from a hunt. Without thinking he pounced on it, gobbling it up in seconds. Then the two-leg threw another piece of meat.

"All yours, my hungry friend," the two-leg said with a chuckle. Her voice was strange to Runt's ears – it reminded him of wind blowing through tree branches. That was a secondary thought however as he all but inhaled the second piece of meat. So far this two-legger was giving Runt the best meal he'd had in years. Sharing was a mostly foreign concept to winter wolves; the meat you took away from a kill was yours and yours only, not even to be shared with one's mate. Of course the carcass would be dragged home for the pups and eventually the Runt to feed, but that was it.

As Runt enjoyed the sensation of a half-full stomach, the two-legger pulled out something small and round from the bag that smelled of seal meat.

"You know, the locals told me that seal eyes were sweet like candy and were to be relished. Call me cynical, but that sounds like the sort of thing you tell gullible travelers for a good laugh. Here, you tell me if they're telling the truth."

With that the two-legger tossed the eyeball in a high arc, letting Runt get under it and snap it out of the air. The winter wolf's tail started to wag as he chewed the eyeball, as it was indeed sweet and delicious.

"Looks like that cynicism was misplaced," the two-leg said, turning around to face Runt and pulling back her hood. Runt had never seen a two-leg like her before; her skin was green like pine trees, her eyes were big and bright yellow, and most shockingly had no head-fur.

"So tell me, my hungry friend, do you have a name?" the two-leg-who-was-not-a-human asked. "I know you can speak, so no sense playing dumb."

Runt finished off the seal eye and hesitated. With food in his belly Runt was better able to assess things. First of all, this two-leg was GIVING him food. Normally when a two-leg and winter wolf met, the former tried to burn the latter while the latter tried to freeze the former. And why would someone freely give away meat? Could it be that two-legs somehow had more food than they could ever eat and not hoard it?

All the meat he could eat. That sounded like heaven.

"I am… was, Runt," he answered, his voice cautious.

"Ahhhhh, a Runt. That explains some things," the two-leg said, nodding, "tired of being abused and underfed?"

"Yes… but I will find a new pack and hunt with them and be treated better…"

"How certain are you that another pack would accept you? Would your old pack allow a former runt to join?"

That simple question hit Runt like a charging mammoth. He could easily see Bloody Snow pretending to welcome a new wolf into the pack, distracting them while Legsnapper casually came up behind them and broke a hind leg. Then the rest of the pack would pounce…

Runt whimpered and shook his head. No, he could present a new pack with a freshly-slain mastodon and they'd simply kill him and steal the carcass. That was the winter wolf way. He had been a complete fool to think differently.

"There's always a Plan C, you know."

Runt perked up, mainly because he thought the green woman had said 'Plan Seal'.

"You could come with me. I won't beat you or make you starve. You'll be the beta in a pack of two."

Runt blinked in confusion. "A pack without a runt? But… but a pack always has to have a runt… that's the rule…"

"Do you have anything to gain by following that rule?"

"I… ," Runt trailed off and laid down on the snow. He wasn't used to all this thinking, he had to stop and let it all process.

"Exactly," the green woman said as she stood up and stretched before tending to the fire. For a long time there was no sound but the crackle of the flames and the occasional howl from the wind.

"I… I will go with you," Runt said finally. They were some of the most carefully thought words he had ever spoken.

"A wise choice," the green woman said reassuringly, turning back to face Runt, "you can call me Kassidan, my new beta."

Runt's tail wagged a little before he realized something: if he was no longer a Runt, what was to be his name? "Beta" hardly sounded good…

Kassidan seemed to realize this as well. "So, former Runt, what shall we call you?"

Runt had just thought of the perfect name and sat up proudly, "I am now Mammothslayer Razortooth, Terror of the White Plains!"

Twenty minutes later, Kassidan had gotten ahold of her laughter.

"It's certainly… ambitious," Kassidan said, wiping a tear from her eye, "But a bit cumbersome. How about we just call you 'Chief' for now?"

Chief. Simple and powerful, two things Runt could appreciate. He wagged his tail "I like it."

"Very well then," Kassidan said, grabbing her sleeping kit, "I'd like to get some sleep before we get moving at sunrise. Please stand guard and wake me at dawn, will you?"

Chief nodded with pride, eager to serve his new pack of two.