Night's shadows lay thick over the mountain forest, a perfect hideaway for nocturnal predators and prey alike. While the average human saw the time of stars as peaceful, soft and silent, the truth was much different. Night was the time of hunting, the time of life and death. Peace and quiet? Such thinking could attributed to the mirage of distance that humanity had erected in its evolution: no longer considering themselves on the same level as animals, they had become blind and deaf to nature's words. The night was full of sounds, full of smells, and full of danger, all unseen by mankind.

At least, by most of mankind

Quiet as living darkness, fifteen shadowy creatures pattered through the underbrush. Soft yips and barks marked their passage, quiet enough to conceal their position but sharp enough to be detected by every pricked ear in the pack. A few dared to shout louder, but only at indefinite intervals. There was no need for the true stealth of hunting, only the stealth of concealment from other packs. The night's meal had already been brought down. Now they headed home to sleep. Dawn was on its way.

Back at the mouth of the den, a huddle of smaller shapes waited. There were six altogether this time, most of them still yearlings. Only one among them was older - much older - but still a pup by his size. That one was the oddity among the pack: a wolf without a tail, without fur, without the keen senses of a wilderness animal. He hunched at the head of the group, scarlet eyes scanning the trees, and had to strain his head forward to listen for his adoptive parents' coming. After all, humans weren't built for such an environment anymore. All he heard was that masking silence.

Finally, as it was every night, the youngsters behind him were the ones to give the alarm. It began with whimpers and little yelps, but soon broke into a frenzy of barks, pattering paws, and wagging tails. The human boy was left to the back of the group as always, unable to join in as the others did. He was just as enthusiastic in spirit, it was the physical aspects he lacked. Long ago he'd learned that he wasn't yet one of those around him. It would be a long time - perhaps forever - until he could join in. Until then, he remained quietly in the shadows, patient and quiet.

The adults slid into view as if from the air itself. Only then did the boy move forward, slipping into the milling throng and silently meeting his adoptive parents. They touched noses then passed by, heading into the den leaving him to follow with the others dancing around him, standing out far more than he could ever suspect. The last of the adults took up the rear only once he had passed inside, herding the remainder of the youngsters down into the depths of the earth. Behind them all, the woods dropped into peaceful stillness for that breathtaking few moments that came like clockwork before dawn. Then, and only then, the masking silence that all humans felt when looking upon nature was the reality.

For that moment alone, peace was real.

A day passed. Night followed. Life moved as it should, normal and natural, but with just a hint of a changing wind. It wasn't until the evening that the air began to pick up an unfamiliar scent, dangerous and cold. As darkness fell the smell got worse and hunting proved unsuccessful. Many of the night's creatures refrained from leaving their homes and those that did were skittish and hard to sneak up on. So it was that the pack returned empty-handed, carrying only a sense of worry and disappointment. A few of the adults wavered as they passed back into the den that night, sniffing at the air and speaking to one another in secret tones. They herded the children down below and followed, acting in all typicality in an effort to allay their fears. Sunrise came with but a hint of abnormality, enough to distract the natural order by just a bit. A whisper of bird song jangled through the damp chill air, and far below, the pack was resting. As a precaution, a single drowsy adult was left on watch.

The young boy stayed just inside the den. He'd found himself unable to sleep with the others that day, too busy wrestling with private thoughts to think of rest. He had sensed something that morning, something strange yet familiar. He alone among the pups had seen the strange actions of the pack leaders, choosing to keep it silent. It was disturbing.

In pure curiosity, he sniffed at the air, lifting one hand right off the ground to try and reach the scent. It just barely came to him, vague and unnatural. Few things ever struck him like that. It was perplexing, almost frightening, but held him curious. Struggling to clear up the scent and the memory, he padded forward into the light, pressing his hands up on the edge of the den. He was forced to squint in the harsh sunlight. His eyes had always been better accustomed to darkness, after all.

It was to his disadvantage that his actions attracted the attention of the lone sentry. He didn't see the great silver furred beast move but the soft growl succeeded in pulling his attention back down to the earth. He blinked repeatedly, backing up to the shadows before he could see. The guard was staring back at him with half lidded expressionless eyes, his tail thudding impatiently against the earth. The boy picked up on all those motions, those subtleties that he had been forced to pick up on, and protested just vaguely - the scent was getting just a bit stronger, now, clawing at his mind.

The adult bared his fangs for a brief instant, a clear warning, then settled again. Reluctantly, the youngster took the warning to heart and slunk back down the tunnel. Nothing would come of defying authority, no matter how unfair it seemed.

It was just in time. The boy was no more than two dozen footfalls down the earthy tunnel when the scent on the wind wafted down the tunnel so strongly that he didn't even have to reach for it. He froze in his tracks, shivering and listening. Animal smells, animal steps, but not alone. They were nearly at the den's entrance, he was sure! Then it came to him, a second sound that followed close behind the first. A voice - no - many voices, all clamoring together. Those sounds, so unlike anything he'd ever thought he'd heard, pricked at his memory.

Despite himself, he found his feet carrying him back the way he'd come. He didn't stop until the entrance was back within view then sidled up against the wall to wait. All the while, the noise was getting louder. Underbrush rustled now and the child's heart pounded just a little bit faster.

The sentry had risen at the entrance, his great shape blocking the sunlight into hazy lines of shadow, and now turned, barking in warning to the others. The boy made no move, his eyes locked intently on the brilliance beyond the shadow. Everything in his body screamed that he should run back to the shadows as he was told, but a smaller, louder something commanded him to wait. Whatever was there was calling to him... A shout rang out, startling him. With a howl, the sentry lunged into the open and the sunlight fell back down the tunnel. The boy cried out, half blinded, and staggered away. Shouts clamored from outside, matched with sharp clatters of something that rang with crisp unpleasantness. An animal's scream and a soft scuffle in the grasses.

In confusion, the boy crouched down, blinking away tears of pain. His heart pounded now, beating against his ribs as if it were a bird in a cage. The sentry didn't return, but the voices quieted. Another animal let out a rough snort, its hooves pawing at the ground. Beyond that were softly spoken words and heavy footsteps, heading for the den.

"You're sure this is the one?" a voice called out. The boy understood not a word, but somehow its meaning wasn't lost. He stiffened.

"It has to be. This area is isolated. The only other dogs around here are beastmen and they're not stupid enough to live in a cave like this. Take a look in. If he's like Lord Folken says he is, he can't go far in this light."

The boy shivered, but found he couldn't move. There was no sound from behind him and he feared going back. What if these strangers followed him? He could endanger the whole pack with his stupidity. If he held his ground there was a chance he would be missed and could escape. It would have to have been him they were looking for, after all. No one was as out of place as he was. If he hid... yes, if he hid they might leave the whole pack alone. In the long run, it was safer to stay where he was and pray that he wasn't found. At least then he could avoid guilt...

"I see something."

A shadow moved and the light dimmed. The child let out a soft whimper, pressing himself against the wall. His eyes were locked on the faceless shape easing its way towards him. It was taking all his courage not to run. A grunt and the shape swung its head to one side. The boy's breath came in halting gasps as he pressed himself as far into the shadows as he could, struggling to become small. He could almost smell them, they were so close.

A hand struck the dirt mere inches from his face, groping in the darkness, and fear finally took complete hold. In pure startled panic he lashed out, digging his teeth in until he tasted blood and clamping in with his nails until his fingers stung. His enemy screamed, toppling backwards and yanking the both of them into the open.

"Get him off!!" The man howled, even as the boy was thrown back to the dirt, unable to hold on. The sunlight stung his eyes, stalling his movements, but at the sense that he was being moved in on he bolted, rushing blindly towards the bushes. He was nearly to safety when the uninjured man tackled him, crushing him to the ground. He twisted in the soldier's grip, striking out at his eyes with his fingers and fighting in desperation to get free. The only damages he managed to inflict were thin bloody scratches, however, before he felt a strong hand cuff him across the temple. Stars flashed in daylight and he nearly lost consciousness.

In that one instant of weakness, everything fell to his disadvantage. Another of the men rushed up, helping to tie his feet and hands until he could barely move. Once he'd returned to his senses, it was too late. He struggled and shrieked, but to no noticeable avail. Within moments he'd been haphazardly slung across a nearby horse's back. His captor leaped to the saddle an instant later, sparing a moment to stab the child's bare arm with something that, while small, left a lingering ache long after it had been removed. His cries turned pleading, then faded altogether. He was lost.

With a few last calls between them, the soldiers started back the way they'd come. The jarring motion was the last straw, turning the pain to exhaustion. As the darkness crept into his vision, the boy gazed back towards the den. Only he saw the misery in those eyes in the shadows. Only he recognized the permanence of his silent goodbye. It would be the last time he would ever lay eyes upon his home. The last time he would ever call himself a wolf.

With a final mournful whimper, he closed his eyes, resigning himself to his failure.

In but a moment, he'd drifted to sleep.