Angharad: Spring is in the air

Spring. Wolf could taste it in the air. It tickled his nose with a sense of freedom and excitement, and thoughts of good food and hunts, and a brisk run. He rolled over, nose twitching in his sleep, then came awake.

Bright sun streamed in through the windows. Wolf's ears perked up as a bird called in the distance. No more snow on the ground. No more pads on his feet frozen from the ice, and no more crystals forming on the ends of his whiskers.

The warmth had finally arrived. He was anxious to get out and run. He gathered his feet beneath him, rolling over and placing a wet nose on Cub's cheek. She shifted in her sleep, pushing at him, not quite awake.

Wolf let her sleep. She'd been restless the night before, had a difficult time sleeping until he wound around her and she settled down against his fur. He could wake her, he knew, but better to let cubs sleep when they needed it.

He jumped from the bed to the floor, landing lightly, and padded over to the door and nosed it open. He moved silently through the castle, scenting the air as he passed by windows opened to let the stale winter air out of the castle. Down to the door and out into the bright air.

He loped towards the paddock. He was quite certain his friend the pony could use a good game of chase in the mud.

Harri awoke with a sudden twist - the kind that woke her from bad dreams. For a second she lay still, gazing up at the ceiling. Something was wrong. Something ... was badly wrong.

And then she knew. Today was the day when she had to take Wolf into the forest and let him go.

Suddenly her chest hurt with an aching pang of pain that made it difficult to breathe. Today was the last day she would ever see Wolf. Today was the last day she would bury her hands or her face in that thick pelt. Today was the last ...

He wasn't there.

She sat up abruptly, her heart thumping.

Had she dreamt it all? Had there never been a Wolf? Would Master Dylan call her to her lessons and she would go, dragging her feet reluctantly because it was a fine spring morning?

No. Master Dylan was dead. And Wolf ...

Perhaps Wolf had already gone? Perhaps the horrible day had been yesterday, and today was her first day without Wolf and ...

She heard a nickering from the paddock. She could see it from her window, so she rose, and grabbed her sky blue dressing robe, for there was still a bite in the spring air. Slowly she made her way to the window and looked out ...

Where the gate swung open for the paddock, the ground was well-trampled. The gate rode higher above the ground than the fence. Wolf settled onto his belly and wriggled beneath the wood. On the other side, he took a moment to roll in the thick mud as Kip whickered his protest at his home being invaded.

Wolf rolled to his feet, snorting as he shook his head, then his body, sending mud flying. Kip skipped sideways, out of the path of flying muck. Wolf lowered his head a moment, peering at Kip through bushy fur that had yet to shed its winter warmth. With a low, playful growl, he leapt forward.

The pony squealed, jumping with a surprising agility, then cantering away as Wolf nipped at his heels. Wolf chased Kip from one end of the paddock to the other, and then back as Kip cantered away. Then with a sharp bark, Wolf ran ahead, as fast as he could, while Kip thundered after him.

Spring was a good thing.

Harri, watching from the window, laughed. It was so good to see them playing together.

And then the laughter stopped. After today ...

Slowly she turned away and began to dress. Her riding habit. They should be starting soon - after breakfast.

Slowly she finished dressing and made her way to the courtyard. Wolf ... he usually came with her, and she fed him bits of bacon under the table.

After today ...

Harri made her way to the Hall.

Mud clung to the tips of Wolf's thick fur. He shook off as much as he could, but it was mpossible to clean himself completely. He stopped, rolling on the harder ground, which dried the mud with dust and scratched the itch on his left shoulder.

He slunk back into the castle quietly, avoiding any of the others. He had become a fixture in the castle, but still, not everyone approved of a Wolf in the Hall. He had received the blunt end of a broom more often than he could count, and refused to let them get the best of him. Although more than one serving maid had backed down in the face of a low growl and baring of teeth.

This was his castle. His den. Cub was his pack.

But... Wolf reached the Hall, pausing as he saw Cub. She was Cub. But there was his pack... and the hunt... he sat down there, turning to face the window, whimpering softly at the bright spring wind.

Harri sat and watched him, a roll dripping with honey lifted halfway to her mouth.

"It's time, you know," said her new tutor, Master Idolwyn, gently. "You can see - he wants to be with his own kind."

Harri nodded. "Oh, I know. It's just that ... "

Master Idolwyn smiled. "I understand, Harri. But this will be a busy summer. Your Father is beginning to open the land here now to the chosen nobles. And there will be formal Courts, where the nobles will come here, with their families. Not just Lord Rein and the Roths. There will be children your own age."

Harri thought of Alexius' Begman Duke's daughter, so dull and stupid, and then gave herself a little shake. Father was hand-picking the nobles that would settle New Avalon from a dozen different Shadows. The children who came would be very different from that spoiled, pampered miss.

But they wouldn't be Wolf.

"I like Lord Rein," she said by way of answer. "He's taught me to play the flute so well. And I liked carving those pan pipes last winter. And I love Uncle Bill and Aunt Alice. And I have you too, Master Idolwyn, and all my friends in the Castle.

"But Wolf ... he's mine, and I'm his. It's ... different."

She looked at Wolf again, gazing out of the window, and put the bread and honey down, almost untasted.

"You're right," she said quietly. "He wants to go. And ... and I won't keep him from what he really wants. I love him too much to do that."

Something was wrong. Cub was as sober as a blizzard day. Couldn't she smell it in the air? Feel it on her arms as the breeze rolled in? Wolf padded over to her and sat next to her chair, leaning his head on her lap. His bright eyes shone and he whuffed softly (knowing full well that any louder call might well get him ejected). Come play, Cub. Kip's waiting. He licked her elbow, then looked up at her, watching and waiting. His head swiveled to the table momentarily -- a taste of food might not be a bad idea -- then back to look at her. But they could hunt. They could run. Everything waited outside.

Another whuff. Come play. It was spring, and there were so many things to teach the cub.

Harri gazed down at the great head resting on her lap.

"Oh, Wolf!" she said. "I love you so much ... "

She picked up the bacome and crumbled it into small bite-sized pieces ... then fed them to him openly. Normally she would be scolded for this - but today no-one in the Hall said a word, not even Master Idolwyn.

Breakfast was over too soon, and they went out to the stables in the bright spring sunlight. Harri was not to be permitted to ride alone, Father had decreed, not even with Wolf at her side. Two guards had to ride with her and Harri - rememvering Master Dylan, did not object.

The grooms had captured Kip - never a very difficult task if one carried carrots, and he was harnessed and ready. He had something of the spring in his step too; Harri reflected sadly that she was the only one feeling wintry, although she sensed the pity of the humans around her. They might not share her fierce love for Wolf, but they understood her pain.

"It need not be today," Master Idolwyn said. "We could wait till next week, when your parents return. Your Uncle Julian ... "

Harri shook her head. "No," she said. "No, it's all right. He wants to go. And ... and if it's today, by the time they come back, I might be ... better."

Wolf bared his teeth at the pony, moving back as Kip danced forward instead of back. He nipped at the heels of one guard's horse, moving easily out of the way. Then he circled back to Harri, waiting until she was mounted and set.

With a sharp bark, he looked at Kip, and then turned and started an easy run into the woods, fully expecting that the playful pony would be on his heels.

Harri urged Kip forward after him. The sharp spring air was intoxicating - at any other time she would be more than happy to race Wolf to the woods. As it was, she couldn't help but glory in his strength, in the fleetness of him ...

They were in the woods now and, "Careful, Harri," said Master Idolwyn. "Look out for the branches."

Harri bit back an impatient answer. She had been riding in the woods as long as she could remember - on Bumpkin, on Kip - and she knew how to ride low in the saddle and watch for branches.

"We need to keep up with Wolf," she said at last, and they plunged on, deeper into the forest.

Wolf ran ahead, slowing down when the pony needed to pick his way more carefully through the woods. He skidded to a halt, scenting a rabbit, and burrowed his way into the brush, flushing out the creatures and then chasing them down the path.

He could hear Cub and her companions behind him as he played along the way. He would hunt later... for now, teaching Cub to keep up was paramount. She could learn to hunt with him. But today, today was for play.

He stopped abruptly, lifting his nose to seek direction. Prey? Pack? Pack was nearby... he could smell them. He stopped where he was, not wanting to lead Cub closer to the Pack.

Harri caught up, and saw him standing still in the path.

"Wolf?" she called. "Wolf ... what is it?"

"He scents his pack," said Master Idolwyn quietly.

Harri bit her lip, and suddenly the forest went blurry.

"Is it time?" she asked.

"Watch Wolf," her tutor replied.

Wolf looked up at Cub, at Kip. He resisted the urge to nip at Kip's nose as the pony looked down at him. Instead his gaze was fixed almost entirely on Cub.

He turned, looking towards where he knew Pack waited. They could scent him. They knew he was there as well as he felt their presence.

He looked up at Cub and whined, then pushed his head into Kip's, the movement startling the pony into a backstep. The pack came closer... drawn for some reason, perhaps thinking they smelled food. Cub needed to leave until Wolf ensured this place was safe. He barked once, short and sharp, a direct order for her to turn around and leave the woods while he took care of the details. This place was his territory, these people his Pack.

"He wants us to go," said Master Idolwyn softly. "He wants us to leave him to his pack."

"I know," said Harri. "I know ... but I can't bear it."

Suddenly she swung down from Kip and ran forward to Wolf, putting her arms around him one last time, hugging him close.

"Goodbye," she said, with a little sob in her voice. "I know this is right ... and good. But ... I love you so much, Wolf!"

Then she released him and turned and ran back to Kip. After the attack, Father had taught her to remount in a hurry - and it was clear she hadn't forgotten her lessons as she almost flung herself into the saddle and wheeled Kip.

"Let's go then," she said. "Quickly ... please!"

Master Idolwyn looked at her, and any reprimand her might have been about to make about putting her scent on Wolf died unspoken. He nodded to the guards and they started back, leaving Wolf alone.

Wolf watched Cub leave with her Pack. He could still smell her scent upon his fur, pleasant in a sweet and strange way. It was a scent he was accustomed to, as familiar as burnt food and the strange scent of the castle.

She was upset. Wolf knew there was no reason for her to worry -- he would take care of marking this place as his. The Pack might object, but they would leave. He had no fear.

He moved off at an easy lope, following the scent trail the Pack had left. He could smell blood... fresh blood... and knew they fed. He crept up, observing them. Three males, all ripping into the kill with fury and hunger born of a long winter. They were skinny and Wolf knew, near starving. Winter was a hard time, and they were desperate for food. But they could not hunt here, not where his Pack called home. Not this close to where Cub slept.

He watched and waited as they ate. They would be slow and stupid once they ate, as the food filled their bellies. He stayed downwind, unnoticed.

The alpha raised his head, calling halt to the gorging. The rest would be shared by the Pack. With a bark, the younger two males -- still cubs, really -- were sent back to bring the Pack to feast.

Wolf stepped out, teeth bared in challenge. His hackles rose.

The alpha caught scent of him, sweetness of Cub clinging to him, rising over the fresh blood. Alpha growled, baring his teeth, accepting the challenge.

Wolf circled slowly. Do not come here. This is my place. My territory.

Alpha turned, his thin muscles still taut and tensed for attack. This has always been our place. Good game. Good food. Good hunt. Alpha snorted. You left the Pack. You stink.

Wolf snorted in reply. He did not stink. He growled again, louder this time, meant as warning. Not this close. My Pack will hunt you. *I* will hunt you.

You challenge me. Alpha stopped, standing his ground, ready to pounce.

Wolf growled low once in reply. Challenge.

Alpha leapt. Wolf rolled with the attack, unable to completely avoid the first snap. The two wolves fought furiously, Alpha unable to bite him again. Wolf caught Alpha's rump in his teeth... not to kill. To injure. Alpha would heal.

Alpha yelped, backing away, favoring the leg and looking for a new opening.

Go. Now. Wolf snarled furiously, hackles fully up in warning. He advanced on Alpha, snapping to herd him away. Take the Pack and leave. This is my place now.

The other wolves gathered, snarling, snapping. Food called them there, and one lone wolf could not stop them from their meal. Wolf snarled at Alpha. Eat. Then leave. He backed up a few paces.

Wolf watched as the Pack fell upon the dead beast, ripping it to shreds and devouring it quickly. Once it was gone, and the Pack well fed, Alpha lifted his head to look at Wolf.

Wolf gazed back, eyes glittering in the late afternoon light. He barked, and then paced forward slowly, growling. Go.

The Alpha never turned his back. He whined to his Pack, leading them away, his eyes remaining on Wolf, who watched until they were gone.

Safe. Wolf had made this place safe for his Pack. And now he was hungry.

He loped into the woods, enjoying the spring evening, the warmth in the air. It was good to be outside again, away from cloying walls and burned meat. He found rabbits easily and ate well, then found a place to curl up for the night and sleep under the stars, his nose tucked under his tail comfortably.

When Wolf woke, he knew something was wrong. Something was strange. He stretched out, rolling over to nose Cub.

Cub.

He rolled to his feet and whined. It was time to return back to the den, and to Cub. He had made his home safe for his Pack. Wolf broke into an easy run over the uneven ground of the forest. If he hurried, he could be there in time for Cub's morning meal.

Harri hadn't slept.

Oh, she had gone to bed all right. In fact, she had gone slightly ahead of her set time - because she knew it was the only way she could be alone.

The whole day had been so dreadful. They had ridden slowly back, taking their time, and Harri, although she had promised herself that she would be brave, had cried a little.

Then, when they got back to the castle, all was haste and bustle. Lord Rein, who had been training the choristers for the spring choir festival, was having to leave urgently for Amber. He had promised to take a letter to Alexius, and Harri had quite forgotten with all the worry about Wolf. She just had time to run upstairs and scrawl a few lines, but doing that made her cry again. She folded the letter anyway, and gave it to him. Somehow, it was comforting to know that somewhere Alexius would be thinking off her, and feeling sad for her too.

By the time Lord Rein had finally left, it was time for Harri's lessons. She was too despondent even to suggest that they should be postponed - and perhaps a part of her realised that Master Idolwyn had resolved to keep her busy so that she should not have time to brood. But it was oh so hard to study without that familiar shape under the desk, or drawing Master Idolwyn's wrath by padding to the window and rearing on his hind legs to look out wistfully, before coming back to her with a sigh and settling down once more.

In fact, although Harri behaved beautifully, and although Master Idolwyn only taught her all her favourite subjects, both of them were rather relieved when the day's lessons came to an end.

Then there was the ordeal of supper to face.

It was not that anyone was horrid. Well, people never were horrid to Harri. Not in the Castle, certainly.

It was that everyone was just too nice.

Cook had baked her favourite meal. At the High Table, the senior officers and their wives, who sometimes discussed rather dry issues that went over her head, all talked about issues that would be of interest to a ten year old girl (although no-one mentioned Wolf). The minstrels played her favourite tunes. Everyone did everything they could to help her, and Harri escaped as soon as she politely could.

But once Nurse had left her tucked up in bed alone, with the sort of kiss and hug Harri hadn't received since she was about six, Harri got up again, pulled her warm eiderdown off her bed and went to the window seat. She and Wolf had sat here together so often, and she hoped to catch his scent. It was there - and when she rubbed her hands hard of the cushion, she found a few black hairs. She sat for a long time staring at them, and then at last she began to cry.

It was nearly dawn by the time she was cried out. Her heart still ached no less, but there were simply no more tears inside her. Slowly, she dressed herself. There were some two hours still to breakfast. She wouldn't go into the forest ... but no-one had ever forbidden her to walk the sward between the castle and the forest. And she could look inside ... and imagine what he was doing. With his pack.

Wolf emerged from the forest as the sun rose past dawn and into morning. A perfect spring morning again. Today, with the Pack gone, he could play with Cub and begin to teach her the hunt.

As he moved onto the grass he saw Cub outside. Already awake and fed? She wore her second skin, but moved with sorrow instead of joy. Wolf leapt forward with a bark, concerned and joyous all at once. He ran to her, leaping up on her, nose in her face, begging her to play.

Harri was walking slowly ... so lost in thought that it took her a moment to realise she had really heard the bark.

She turned swiftly -and almost immediately fell over as Wolf leapt at her.

"Wolf? Wolf!"

And then she was laughing and crying all at once and reaching up to hug him.

"My Wolf!" she said. "You came back to me!"

Cub was happy now. Wolf licked the streams of salt from her face, then rolled over on his back, belly offered to his Cub. He barked gladly at her laugh. Finally... joy in the spring day.