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Day 17

Finally made it into the countryside. The roads were jam packed, so in the end, I left the car and walked. I'm not very familiar in this area, but at least out here I'll have plenty of time to get to grips with everything that has happened. I decided to keep a running log of events, so that I can keep track of my own progress, as well as serving as a reminder of how far I've come. Brought enough food to last for a while, but eventually, I suppose I'll have to hunt something. Guess I better start getting in tune with the wildlife here. I wonder how the recent events have affected it. Hopefully not as bad as it affected us.

Runt

by Spottystuff

---

Eight hadn't eaten in four days. Six and Three had gone seven days without. One died yesterday. Out of the few who could still hunt were me, Four, Five and, I suppose, Runt. Well... Runt would've barely been able to put up a fight against a lame doe calf, with that misshapen paw of his. But he managed to feed himself, so nobody paid him any mind.

This was the third failed hunt. Two signalled for me to follow him once we returned, and we headed out of the gathering, where my pack mates went back to linger in the sun and conserve their energy.

"Nine, this has gone on for too long." His growl was as deep and hollow as his belly. "It's time we discussed what we should do with him."

"He is of no importance," I explained. "He feeds himself on toads and rats, and small birds. Why him? Why not anyone else?"

"Disgraceful," Two rumbled. "He cannot provide for the pack. He cannot stay with us."

"I don't understand why now. Why, when he's almost grown? He's been with us almost all his life, One found him and brought him into our midst, all by himself. For what? Everyone considers him part of the pack. He's one of us. This is cruel."

"We had food enough when he was young. Now we don't. And he's unlikely to put any pups on you or anyone else, anytime soon. He doesn't do anything here. Keeping him around sends the wrong signals." The big wolf paced uneasily in front of me, growling to himself. "You have to do it."

"Me?"

"He trusts you. You two grew up together. You'll find no trouble making him follow you."

"I have to betray that trust? I have to slay one of our own... This was not what One taught us."

"One is no more," Two growled. "I'm soon to become One, and you will be eight. And Runt will be Runt. Best put him out of his misery before he clears out all the small game around here. We might need that source of food for our young if this goes on for much longer."

"We should have left with the game," I growled back, but quickly lowered my ears when he responded with a snarl. I was in no state to challenge Two. I was the newest and most inexperienced hunter of the pack.

"Take him into the mountains and do it there. I'll tell the pack I instructed you to find small game there, as it seems the only thing he's good for. Do it quickly. The pack is highly strung right now, it would benefit no one to think we've turned against each other."

"But we are. Runt is us. We are his pack. This is monstrous."

"This is necessary, Nine." Two barked. "Return alone. Or don't return at all."

That last part made coldness run down my spine, and my tail tucked between my hind legs. I swallowed back the growl and lowered my ears submissively. Two nosed my muzzle curtly. I didn't dare to challenge his word.

The walk across the den was the longest I'd ever made in my life. And not just because Runt liked to stay a bit away from the pack.

"Pup," I exclaimed.

He lifted his head, and turned his ears towards me, his tail twitching alertly

"Nine!" he exclaimed, his right ear flopping down across his eye before he nudged it back up again. "Look what I caught earlier!"

With his one good forepaw, he scraped at the carcass of a small bird. The sort of thing that was more feather and bone than meat, and more trouble to chew than it was worth. But Runt had that proud look to him as if he was a hunter like me. Of course, he could never be one.

His forepaw had stopped growing when he was presumably sucking his mother's tits, and we never could work out exactly what sort of wolf he was either. He smelled different from us, too. But he spoke our language, and had a good outlook on life, so One had kept him around.

"How are you doing, Runt," I asked him. "Looks like you're keeping yourself."

"I manage to catch some things every now and then, but I'm awfully hungry," he told me. "When are you going to catch some high game, Nine? I don't know how long I can go like this."

"I'm not sure," I tell him. Then I drew a deep breath and forced my ears upright. "Actually... Two figured we could go and look for small game up in the mountains."

"We?" Runt's odd-shaped tail did a strange twitch, then started wagging unlike any wolf's tail I'd ever seen. "You mean I get to hunt? With you?"

"Yeah," I told him calmly. "Two thinks it's... it's time... for you to... to contribute to the cause."

"Wonderful!" he exclaimed, not even once doubting my word. It almost annoyed how easy he was to convince to come along. I needed more time to come to terms with what I had to do.

"You'll be a hunter too, soon." I nuzzled him. His lick of affection came in return, eager and uncoordinated.

"I'll be Nine, then!" he told me.

"Ten"

"No," he shook his head. "Nine, since you'll be eight when Two is chosen as One. Right? That's very soon, isn't it?"

"Ah, right you are." It was hard to forget that One was no more. The pack leader who had accepted me into the hunter's ranks himself. "They can have their choosing without us. We have food to catch."

"I've never cared much for the choosing, anyways," Runt explained.

"Oh?" I asked. We started padding towards the edge of the choosing pit, beyond which lay the forests and valleys of our hunting grounds.

"You know why," Runt told me. "Why do we need to choose every time? Why not just select the obvious choice, and stick with it?"

"Well," I told him. "The strongest and most capable hunters aren't always strong and capable when they get older. Sometimes, we need to-"

"No, silly," he smirked. "The uprights. The two-legged ones. Why have we never asked them to be in our pack? I feel like they'd be great leaders, I'm sure of it."

"What are you talking about?" I ask him, curious where this all came from. "Uprights aren't wolves. They have never indicated anything other than indifference towards us. They don't care about us. And they stink of corpse rot, and have flat teeth. Why would we listen to what they have to say? Not that they can speak any language worth knowing."

"No, they can," Runt insisted, stumbling over a log to come crashing down on the other side. Though it looked painful, it didn't wipe his happy smirk off his muzzle, nor his enthusiasm from his voice. "I'm sure they can understand us. I don't know why, but I'm really, really sure... They are wise, Nine. They are much wiser than you or I."

"How can you be so sure?"

"I don't know, I just am."

"How about the one Two brought down the other day?" I asked him. "It wasn't strong at all. How can you say they are fit to be our leaders, when they can't even best a single wolf? And anyways, I can't stand that smell. And they make us sick. Remember, One-."

"You're not supposed to eat them," Runt said. "You're supposed to do as they say, and then they provide for you. They belong with us."

"Pfft." I snorted. "You're dreaming. I've never wanted to be in a pack with an upright. Are you sure that bird you ate wasn't sick with-"

"Woah!"

Runt stopped, some fifty paces from our pack, and experimentally walked around a small tree.

"This is the marker?"

"It is," I confirmed. "The edge of our area. Beyond here are the hunting grounds."

Runt gasped once more, stepping across the border with an overly pronounced limp. A smile shaped on his muzzle.

"We're not going straight through here," I explained, "in case there's game-"

"We can hunt it!"

"No, Runt! We're going to climb the valley's side there, and walk on stone for as much as we can."

"Very wise," Runt responded in his stride. "And from the height we can see more game!" He looked toward the rock fall which draped the valley side. "Only, I'm not sure I'll move very fast... It's only that... my balance is... it's not very good."

"We'll go slowly," I reassured him. "It's better we reach the place we intend to hunt a little late, rather than trying to rush, and end up falling off the side of the valley altogether."

I swallowed. Who'd ever question me if I said Runt tripped and fell? He had that tiny, useless forepaw of his, hanging limply against his chest, after all. He walked unsteadily enough up here, occasionally tripped and stumbled against the rocks.

Runt maintained his indefatigable mood, however, by imagining, loudly and often, all the good eating we'd have on our excursion. I couldn't even bring myself to be annoyed, the words he said had a way of working their way into my belly and fill it with promises.

But by evening, even he had gotten tired of the constant tripping and falling in this terrain. My empty belly had begun to protest loudly that I need to stop and kill something.

"Break," I called, like a true pack leader. "We'll take a break here."

"Already?" Runt asked, a little slurred from a swollen lip he'd gotten earlier. "I can go for a day more, if need be!"

"I'm sure you can," I told him. "You eat well. But I haven't."

I nudged his side, which almost made him trip over. It'd be so easy. Just another nudge, and he'd go down. But we were in sight range of the pack, if not very close. Less than a day's travel, in relatively safe terrain. It'd not be easy to explain that one.

"Well, I hunt regularly," Runt told me. "I think I might be good enough to be a hunter like you. I've just been waiting for my chance to prove it."

"Sure," I mumbled. "Why don't you hunt us some toads or whatever, so we don't starve tonight."

It was meant as a sting, but Runt took it seriously.

"Toads don't run up here. What you want is grouse or lemmings. Or perhaps a hedgehog. There's a trick to catching hedgehogs, you know. You have to roll it over on its back and-"

"I don't care," I groaned. "Find something to fill our bellies."

"You want me to hunt for us, Nine? For real?"

"Can you?" I asked him.

"Y-Yeah! Sure thing, alpha!" he smiled and headed off into a section of the mountain where he clearly scented something he recognized. His eager obedience warmed me. It felt strangely good to share a pack with him, it really did. More than I'd known.

Sure, Runt didn't help us survive. But he didn't prevent us from surviving either. What'd help us would be if the game had returned to the old trails. But recently, as recent as the first sightings of uprights around these parts, the game had stopped coming here. One, and Two, was sure it'd return soon. And while they stewed, we all starved. Only rats and birds left to sustain us. Runt ought to have taught us others how to catch them. But of course, Two would never stoop so low.

Damn uprights. This was their fault, somehow. One had told stories of them before he died, about how they made loud thundering sounds, and killed anything and everything without having to chase it down. Two had said uprights ate wolves. Runt... well, Runt was a pup yet, but he was both earnest and honest. There might be something to what he said, in his own head. But all the uprights I'd seen had been shambling, half dead things, fully dead, judging from the smells, moving around like living things. None of them had paid us much mind. It wasn't just difficult to see what Runt saw in them. Sometimes, I struggled to see what One had warned about too. But I trusted my pack leader's warning a hell of a lot more than I trusted Runt's assurances.

As the sun was heading down, Runt returned with a triumphant perk to his ears. In his muzzle, he carried a yellow and black lemming, half chewed to pieces, but still smelling of fresh blood.

"I found this, Nine," he said, muffled by the fat little critter in his muzzle. He dropped it in front of me. "Am I a hunter now?"

"Not yet," I told him. "You'll need to find more than just that. Hunters bring down game for the whole pack, you see."

"Oh," he said. "I only brought this one."

"How do you expect this one to feed us both?"

"I've already eaten."

"You ate before me?"

I stared at him. Runt was about to open his muzzle, but he clasped it shut, and lowered his ears.

"I wasn't meant to do that, was I?"

"Have you any idea what our names mean?"

He nodded, carefully hunching down so that his eyes were at my level. His tail tucked firmly between his legs.

"We... we eat according to the names we're given." He trembled. "But... but I never ate with everyone else. We always used to share, before you became a hunter. I didn't realise..."

"Now you do," I said sternly. "Go find yourself some place to sleep and think on what you've done."

"Yes, Nine," he said meekly, and left the lemming with me. It was difficult being so stern with him, but he had to learn. I wasn't made Nine for fun. I had to work hard for this. I had a lot of responsibility. Awful responsibility which weighed on my mood.

He curled up in a crook under two rocks and lowered his muzzle all the way to the ground. I caught a few moments of sleep, after I'd had the alpha's share of the lemming. To think he ate before me. If that had been high game, he'd be on his back with another scar on that atrophied paw of his.

In two days' time, we reached the mountains proper. Runt had since learned his place. It hadn't taken much convincing, though it felt like it did. Towards the end of day three, we reached a cliff face looking out across a distant valley. Runt gasped when he saw it.

"I've never been so high up before," he exclaimed. "We must be able to see all the world from here."

I scoffed, more to distance myself from his undying and often contagious enthusiasm.

"This is just the next valley over. There are hundreds of valleys over from this one."

"What's that black stuff coming up from the forest there?" Runt indicated some spot in the distant valley.

"Smoke," I mumbled, straining to see it closer.

"Smoke?"

"It's not a forest fire. I think it might be the uprights."

They had a habit of setting things alight. Some moons ago, we'd been plagued with the constant smell of smoke, and lots of thundering noises which rang for many nights. There was no doubt, no matter how feeble they might look up close, that they had some fearful power I couldn't understand. No wonder Runt had become misguided with them.

"Oh, we should go and have a look."

"No." I barked at him. "We will never go towards the uprights. Never. They are dangerous."

"No, I swear, Nine. They aren't. They're kind, and gentle and-"

"Shut your muzzle, Runt," I snarled at him. "You've never met them. You don't know what it's like."

"But... but I feel like I have," Runt insisted. "I'm sure of it."

"They have love for nothing but themselves. They eat, and hunt and kill only for themselves. They set fire and command thunder for themselves. They have no care for you or I. Do not bother them."

I could tell my snarl had the desired effect on Runt, because he kept his tongue. But I could also tell he wanted to argue.

"You ought to find something to eat, Runt. It's not much further now, and you'll need all your strength for what's to come."

He had no hope of resisting me, no matter how much strength he found. I was bigger than him. Older by a year at least. I'd simply grab him by his scruff like I'd done countless times when we were both pups. I'd drag him over to the edge, trying not to listen to his confused complaints, and push him off. Then I'd run before I heard his helpless cries, and if he survived, his pathetic howls to call his pack, not loud enough to reach back home. The thoughts twisted my insides and made me faint and weak. He was pack. He'd call for me and I wouldn't answer. What a monster I would be.

Nobody who ordered the death of a pack mate could lead a pack. And nobody who permitted it to happen could be a part of one either. If I returned, I'd be a part of a pack which killed its own. If I didn't return however...

"Nine," Runt called suddenly, from far away. "Nine, you need to come quickly!"

"Did you trip again?"

"No, come!"

He was so insistent that I immediately knew something wasn't right.

I put my difficult thoughts behind me for a moment as I sniffed out what direction he'd gone in. The darkness had set in, but Runts' scent was as unique as its owner. And then there was another scent. Also unique, but much less pleasant, overpowering everything else.

I found Runt on a crest overlooking a small gully. At the bottom, a large carcass of a caribou lay motionless. There was enough good feed on it to fill Runt's belly and mine for a week. But that wasn't the scent which had attracted Runt. No, of course not. Permeating the air even at this distance, the smell of corpse rot was unmistakeable.

Two stinking uprights had found the caribou before us, and was feasting on it as we watched. I'd never seen them this close before. As with all their kin, they had no tails, no paw pads, no claws. But with their flat teeth, they ripped pieces of meat out all the same. As befit their status as the top predator, I suppose, they ate as if nothing could threaten them.

I told Runt to hold his position and wait until they had fed themselves. We'd eat the rest. Sure, it was low to scavenge, but it was better than insects and rodents. And I was used to having my meal after my betters, not that these uprights were that. Runt, however, didn't listen to me.

He slowly got up and, hesitantly at first, approached the figures at the bottom of the hill.

"Runt! Get back here this instant. What are you doing?"

"They're uprights, Nine," Runt said, as if it was any sort of explanation. "They're capable of kindness so long as you don't make them feel threatened. Trust me, I'm sure of it!"

"Get back here!" I snarled, but I caught myself. After all, wasn't Runt meant to die? This way, I didn't even have to do the deed myself. Anyone could find the mangled corpse, recognize the stench, and instantly know what had happened. Somehow, that made me feel even worse.

Runt slowly ambled up to the two creatures, neither of whom paid him any mind. He moved deliberately and with ears splayed, as was often his custom anyways. But it felt wrong seeing him, a wolf by merit of pack, subject himself to something other than another wolf. This wasn't right.

He was less than a snout's length from them when they finally turned to acknowledge him. I didn't know how he could stand the smell, but he didn't seem too bothered. As they met his eyes, his tail started wagging slowly, and his ears perked slightly. His body remained low in submission, but he signalled that he wanted them to play. What on earth was he doing?

Had he lost his mind?

Then everything happened at once. One of the figures swiped its forepaw at Runt, and caught him right in the muzzle. Runt whined in surprise and backed away just in time to avoid the other one's lunge. They used their flexible paws, trying to grasp at Runt's coat, before one of them managed to clasp its' paw around his atrophied leg.

"Runt!" I called as I ran full speed down the hill towards them. "Get away from them!"

The one who had its paw clasped around Runt's forepaw was my target. It was too slow to react as I closed the distance. I sunk my teeth into its flesh, across the thinnest part of its forepaw. The foulest taste I'd ever tasted flooded my muzzle, and almost made me recoil. Its blood tasted as if it came from a months-dead carcass. But I held on. I held on when I wanted to vomit, fighting back tears of disgust in my eyes. With a fierce snarl, and all my strength, I ripped at the paw until my teeth found bone. Then the bone cracked, and foul black blood sprayed all over my muzzle and hackles. Runt stumbled back as the paw released its grip.

"Run!" I called.

"N-no," Runt said. "D-don't hurt them, they just wanted to greet me."

"Are you out of your mind?" I asked, spitting out the paw I'd just ripped off. "They kill. That's all they do."

Before I could hear his response, the other upright had turned its attention to me. My threatening growl had no effect on it. It just shambled towards me as if I could neither be seen or heard. I leapt towards it. Every animal was weak at the neck. I'd helped bring down moose and elk that way, and they had been much bigger than this enemy. But as I sunk my fangs into its neck, I couldn't feel the accustomed warmth. And I remembered how I couldn't sense a heartbeat. I couldn't smell life flowing from their veins. But it was definitely alive. It swung its forepaws frantically, striking me across my belly and chest, and knocking the air out of me. But I held on. Then it clasped both of its paws around my neck. Suddenly, I couldn't breathe. I felt pressure inside my head like nothing I'd ever felt before. I flailed helplessly, and though black blood gushed from between my teeth, the upright's strength didn't wane. My vision started to fade. My strength left me. This was it. I was about to die to protect this doomed pup, who would then die himself. My quest would be complete, and I'd at least have my honour intact.

Suddenly, the pressure around my neck vanished. I gasped for air, and found I was laying on my side. My body ached, but I could breathe again.

"Nine!" Runt cried confused, but I couldn't voice a reply. "Nine, I'm scared. It's coming for me, what do I do?"

"Just stay out of its reach! keep an eye on that other paw."

I looked back to my own assailant, to see how I'd managed to escape. Sprawled on its back, the upright lay motionless among a few rocks. Standing on two paws must be very difficult at the best of times, and even more so when a fully-grown wolf hung from the other two. But to fall backwards like that spoke of some otherworldly lack of balance. The upright had struck its head against a rock. A viscous, pale puddle could be glimpsed underneath the head. It's brain! Of course! Perhaps this was where its life resided?

"Runt!" I called. "Lead it over here, I have an idea!"

Runt turned his ears towards me, but that was all the indication I had that he'd heard me. Thankfully, this time my orders stuck. As he turned towards me, I ran ahead, trying to time my steps exactly. I selected a decently sized, sharp rock, and lunged just as the upright passed it. I struck the foul creature right around its chest, knocking it backwards. It hit the ground with a crunch, and its head struck the stone just as I'd planned. And it remained stationary.

Panting, I sniffed around to make sure it had a hole in its head, through which it's brain could run out.

Runt whimpered, "Are you okay, Nine?"

"What. Were. You. Thinking?" I growled. In a few short strides, I loped over to him and took him by the scruff of his neck firmly. "Fool! You could've killed us both!"

"S-sorry," the pup whined. "I thought-"

"Why on earth would you think to approach them as you did?" I asked. "No, actually, that can't have been thinking. You must have lost your mind already."

"No, no, I swear, I'm not mad." Runt sobbed now, his mewling whines didn't exactly make me feel better about myself. On top of the taste in my mouth, the pain in my body, the twisting guilt in my stomach and everything else, I was a whiskers breath away from snapping at him.

"Then explain."

"I-I I don't know how. I just felt like it'd work. I felt it stronger than I'd ever felt anything before. It was as if... as if they were my pack."

"You have lost your mind," I said flatly. "Runt, you're mad. You're mad, and stupid, and irresponsible." Sighing, I lowered my ears and licked his muzzle. The guilt of what I'd set out to do was too much. Runt was my pack, faults and all. "But I forgive you... this time. But don't ever. Ever. Do something like that again."

"I'm really sorry, Nine," he said again. "I didn't know they'd be like that. Somehow... somehow, I thought they'd be more... clever. It was like I remembered-"

"How would you know clever, you fool?" I asked him as I padded over to the carcass of the caribou. It smelled of the two uprights still, but not so bad that I couldn't use its blood to wash the taste out of my muzzle. As I ate, Runt sat obediently back, sufficiently cowed.

"I know I'm not smart like you hunters, Nine," Runt said, "You said I was very young when I came to the pack. But what if I knew the uprights before I came there? Because I feel like I share... some kind of connection to them."

"You were barely old enough to feed yourself," I told him between bites. The meat tasted amazingly, and helped me recover some of my mood. "Nobody knows where One found you, but it was not near any uprights. One feared them, as you should too."

"But..." Runt trailed off. "You believe me, right?"

"I don't know." I licked my muzzle, and ate for a long time before speaking again. "This isn't like you, Runt. You always were a little different, but you kept to what was true."

"I know what I know, Nine," he said, "and I'm sure of this." He sighed; his smile vanished for a moment. "Uprights are more complicated than these two creatures. I know it. I'm sure of it."

"I don't care what you're sure about, Runt. That doesn't make it true. No more of this nonsense about uprights. If we never see one again, I'll count myself lucky."

Runt's ears lowered, but he did keep his muzzle shut after that. And silently, I thanked him for it. Even the thought of reprimanding him now was difficult. He'd caused enough harm, and I was sure he knew it. And he'd also seen to it that I could fill my belly with proper food. He had done well, and his disobedience quickly faded to the back of my mind. When it was finally his turn to eat, he barely touched the caribou, and instead went to sleep by himself.

I couldn't return to my pack, knowing I'd killed someone like him. A puppy. As young and disobedient, unruly as every other pup. He dreamed of becoming a hunter, as did they all. But he couldn't do what they did, so Two had decided he should die. I'd see to it that he didn't return to that pack. But I'd not return either.

That night, I howled. I howled for my recent kills. I howled to beg the spirits of fallen wolves to watch over us. A few distant howls responded, but none whom I knew. I went over to where Runt lay and curled up beside him, my pack mate.