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[b]Here is a newer chapter wrote:[/b]
[quote]SURVIVAL
  (ch. 3 from 'Spirit Wolf' by Lisa Bennish)

A bitter wind swept over the open stretch of snow-covered meadow, and the sky was iron grey and bleak. The temperature had fallen, and winter was at its cruelest. The sun was hidden behind the clouds of the overcast sky, and nature itself was solemn. The wind even sounded mournful as it whispered across the heavy white drifts, catching at the surface and swirling small, icy flakes up and along with it as if seeking a cold consolation. The hills in the distance with their blackened, twisting branches completed the picture, and they especially invoked sorrow. 
In a dip in the ground at the southernmost point of the meadow, were two she-wolves. One of them, brown streaked with grey, lay on the snow, which was soaked red with blood. Her breathing was shallow and pained, and her yellow eyes were dull and clouded. On her flank was a horridly infected bullet wound, which was festering and swollen. She was barely alive, and her strength was ebbing away rapidly.
The other she-wolf was sitting beside her, and pure black with sapphire-blue eyes. Her head was bowed and her ears drooped, and her shoulders were slumped dismally. She knew that her mother was dying, but at the same time, she could not accept it. For some reason, she continued to lie to herself, and her thoughts were scattered and broken. She’s going to make it, I know she is. My mother can’t die; she can’t. She would think irrationally, over and over again. Then she would realize how futile it was, and growl at herself out loud. Her mother would then raise her head and look up at her questioningly, and the black wolf’s heart would twist with apprehension. What is happening to me? She would wonder silently and gaze about her at the desolate landscape. 
Her ribs stood out clearly beneath her ragged coat, from which patches of fur were missing. Lately it had begun to drop out from her loose skin in clumps, and her overall condition was deteriorating. Her eyes were hollow and sunken in, and her gums were becoming pale. She shivered constantly because her fur no longer retained heat and her body fat was virtually gone. Every day it got a little harder to seek out food and water, and she was a bit more exhausted. The only thing that kept her going was her mother, who was in fact dying, no matter what she might tell herself. 
“Saghani, you must leave,” her mother said feebly, not even having the strength to raise her head to look her in the eyes. 
Saghani jolted upright and stared at her, suddenly alarmed. Leave? She wants me to leave her here to die? Never!
“Mother, how can you say that? Why would I leave you here to starve in the snows?” she snapped, a spark lighting her eyes for the first time in days.
The brown and grey she-wolf whispered,
“Daughter, listen to me. I am dying, I can feel it. Death no longer frightens me, it welcomes me. When it takes me, I will no longer be in pain, and I will see what lies beyond. You must stay strong. Survive. You will be the last member of our pack, and you must live. Please, go out into the world and find another pack to join; my last wish is for you to live.”
Saghani felt as if each and every strained word cut into her flesh like a claw, leaving behind raw, bleeding wounds. She was breathing hard, and her head felt light and dizzy as she peered down into her mother’s beloved face even as she was speaking her last. The brown-grey wolf’s eyes had glassed over, and her own breath had left her lungs for the final time, and when her daughter prodded her with a paw, she didn’t move and felt icy and stiff.
The black wolf lifted her muzzle to the bitter sky and let her equally bitter howl ring through the snowy air, the melancholic note echoing winter’s hopelessness and sorrow as it soared high above the Alaskan wilderness like a merciless bird of prey.

Saghani’s paws were sore; she had been running for nearly a day and a half with the briefest intervals of rest. She had found a scrawny rabbit and eaten it, but her stomach still clamored for food and her head didn’t feel much better. The black she-wolf was stunned by the loss of her dear mother, and was still in the grieving stage of denial. She felt confused and was often disoriented, and she was frustrated with her clumsiness at hunting and tracking. Not that there was much to hunt or track anyway. Saghani had run into the forested hills, though she had no idea where she was going. She just knew that she had to leave her pack’s territory; she had heard the hunters’ airplane several times while she was watching over her mother in her last few days. 
My last wish is for you to live. She kept those words circling around and around in her mind, and with little doubt, they were the only thing that kept her going. She could not dishonor her mother’s dying request, no matter how useless her situation seemed. She would find another wolf pack sooner or later; it was only a matter of time. Then, possibly, she could begin another life, and have a fresh start. 
As night cloaked her surroundings in darkness, the black she-wolf walked up to the hollow at the base of a mighty trembling aspen tree and nosed around curiously. She found that brown, dead leaves from fall had been swept into it and were dry and warm, and curled up in them, putting her tail over her nose for extra warmth. Besides being hungry, she was relatively comfortable and soon fell asleep. In the morning, everything was heaped with fresh snow, gleaming brightly in the grey dawn light. Saghani was awakened by the raucous noise of her own stomach growling and she sat up and shook her head to clear it.
She sniffed deeply, and detected the barest trace of a rabbit. Wagging her tail in great arcs back and forth and tongue lolling, the black wolf crouched and stalked forward. The rabbit was as hungry as she was, and was picking through the snow, trying to find a bit of withered foliage, but without success. Its reaction to the predator was too slow, and it hardly had time to shriek as Saghani’s fangs met in the back of its neck, snapping its spinal cord and delivering instant death. Saghani grinned as delicious blood filled her mouth and she set the kill down upon the snow and began to tear off chunks and swallow them whole. She couldn’t help but long for the even more delicious taste of deer, and with that thought, she realized that she would never be able to kill one on her own; she needed other wolves to plan a strategy of attack. 
She was already lonely, and she frequently howled, but in vain. For days and days she traveled, but there was never an answering howl. Discouragement crept into her heart and mind, and she howled less and less. One bitterly cold morning, though, she reached the top of a hill and tilted her muzzle to the sky. The note shattered the freezing air, and the sound of it was loud in the silent wood. Saghani was just getting ready to leave when a different howl came to her ears. It sounded angry, and nearby. Others followed it, until a threatening chorus had started up. The black she-wolf felt the danger of it thrilling through her being, and her head felt dizzier than ever, and she staggered as she turned to run. The unfairness of it hit her at that moment; and the irony too. 
Why is it that when I finally find other wolves, they want to drive me from their territory? If they’d just listen to me, maybe I could tell them that I am NOT an intruder; that I just want to belong to a pack…Saghani thought furiously. She snarled at her clumsiness as she sprang down the steep hill, her forepaws reaching out in front of her and her hind legs striking off the angled slope and propelling her forward at great speed. The she-wolf flew down the hill and into a ravine, and she could hear the other wolves crashing through the bushes behind her, in hot pursuit. They were growling and barking with intense scorn and hatred; in these hard times, the last thing they needed was to waste what little energy they had on chasing out a suspicious lone wolf. 
Saghani now knew what it was to be hunted, and the wild fear that was threatening to consume her was overpowering. Her blue eyes were wide and her tongue lolled as she struggled for breath, and she was beginning to run out of strength. The hostile wolves were drawing closer even as she began to slow down, and her last hope of escape was shattered like ice as she slammed to a halt. Looking up, the fleeing she-wolf saw a sheer wall of rock closing off the narrow mouth of the ravine. There was no way out, for the wolves had gained ground and were now walking slowly toward her, their ears flattened and their lips curled to show her their sharp fangs. The leader, a scraggly brown wolf with brown eyes, stopped and lifted his tail, signaling his followers to stop also.
The three wolves behind him glared menacingly, and one, a grey she-wolf, was already preparing to leap. Saghani had quickly turned around to face them, and now her head throbbed with disbelief. How can this be happening to me? When will I wake up from this horrible nightmare? She thought woefully. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a wind picked up and swirled about them all, but only Saghani heard it as it seemed to whisper,
“Strong, stay strong…survive.”
And all at once she knew that it was her mother somehow, speaking to her from wherever her spirit was. That was all it took, and the she-wolf felt renewed vitality flooding into her even as the strange wind ebbed away. The hostile wolves had swung their heads around rapidly, looking in all directions as the wind stirred the snow and dead leaves beneath it into a sort of flurry, and weren’t prepared for her attack. Snarling and snapping viciously, Saghani charged into the middle of their group and began to slash out with her fangs and claws, tearing fur and flesh wherever she could reach it. The startled wolves had no idea what was going on, and knew only that they were afraid and began to scramble backwards frantically. 
The leader yelled,
“RUN!” and they did, all the way back up the ravine and didn’t stop until they had reached their main rendezvous site, where their comrades stared at them and sniffed at their wounds curiously, to their humiliation.

Saghani stood there, just as confused as the wolves who had fled. Hope flooded into her, and purpose too. She would never doubt her mother’s presence again, and it gave her confidence and comfort. She wasn’t alone, and never would be. The black she-wolf held her head and tail high and set off up and out of the ravine and into the unknown bravely and without fear. 
Night settled in, and with it, great, fluffy flakes of snow. The sky was bright grey, and eerily light; nearly light enough for it to be dawn or even midday. The temperature had risen slightly, and the conditions were perfect for a major snowfall. The lone wolf in the heart of the forest wondered if the winter would ever end. Even with her new reassurance, she was aware that she was slowly starving. Each day her paws were harder to move, and she went to sleep earlier and slept in later. Fatigue was her constant companion, and in many ways more frightening than her insatiable hunger. 
She curled up near the base of a tree with her tail warming her nose.

Instantly, there was a scene before her, of a smooth, pure, deep blue stretch of ice framed by the imposing mountain range in the distance. It was spring, and pools of shallow water were scattered across its surface. The ice was desperately thin, yet she felt that somehow something was chasing her, and that there was no other way; she had to cross it. Carefully, she set a paw on it and immediately felt it bend and heard the water squishing up from beneath it. Terror surged through her, and her blue eyes were large and round like a frightened cub’s. 
The sudden sound of something large crashing through the forest at her back decided for her, and she sprang out onto the treacherous, melting lake of ice. Awkwardly, she scrabbled at the slippery surface, and finally with her claws she managed to get a purchase on it and began to move forward. She splashed through the puddles of melted water and when she was in the middle of the lake, she heard a groaning noise and then a horrifying crack and then she was crashing through the ice and her head was underwater. The icy water stabbed through her fur and felt like a thousand fangs biting into her flesh all at once, and she tried to paddle with her paws, but they were numb and her still heavy coat was dragging her down and down into the black, freezing depths of the lake.
Saghani woke with a jolt; she was shivering violently and as she sat up, a thick layer of snow was shaken from her pelt. She looked around in disbelief. Three feet of snow had fallen from the bitter sky, and it was heaped up around the trunks of the trees and completely covered the undergrowth. How was she supposed to travel? Plowing through the snow in enormous leaps would tire her in no time at all, and her progress would be unbearably slow and hard work. 
The only way she could possibly survive was if she had a large meal to give her the energy she needed to accomplish it. Still trying to recover from her ghastly dream, the she-wolf shook her head and got to her feet. She had to hunt. Spirit of my mother, help me to find a deer and give me the strength of two wolves to kill it, so that I might honor your last wish and survive. She closed her eyes and prayed fervently. Imagining that her mother’s spirit indeed was beside her, she set off through the snow, her eyes fierce and her teeth bared as if to threaten nature’s wrath.
A frozen little stream with gravelly banks at the bottom of another ravine provided her first chance. A skinny herd of deer were pawing at the ice with their cloven hooves to shatter the ice so they could drink. Saghani crouched at the top of the lip of the ravine and watched observantly. She noticed that when a certain doe near the edge of the group walked, it limped slightly. Only an accomplished hunter like Saghani could have detected it. She had excellent eyesight, though her sense of smell was somewhat below average, and her hearing was normal.
The deer looked up and adrenaline fueled their flight as they turned as one and leaped up the steep ravine. However, the doe with the limp tripped on the strain it put on her already injured tendon and it snapped. Crying out with agony, she fell and rolled over and over, hitting hard at the bottom. She tried to get up, but her leg gave out every time, and so she lay there on the snowy ground thrashing about, her eyes huge and liquid in her thin, pretty face. The wolf was running at her, and her head swam as she felt the searing pain of its fangs cutting through her belly. 
Saghani was ravenous, and the bloodlust of a wild wolf had taken over. Her vision was a red haze, and all she could think was kill. She ripped open the deer’s stomach and began to feast on the internal organs as they fell out, steaming deliciously. The doe was in such pain that she lost consciousness, and when she finally died, she wasn’t even aware of what was happening. The she-wolf, having already gulped down the organs, began to tear at the muscle. 
The snow was red with blood, and Saghani lay near the remains of her kill, her own stomach bloated and full. Silently she thanked the spirits for the opportunity she had been given. If that doe hadn’t had an injured tendon, she would never have been able to take it, and she would probably have died. 
Saghani had never believed in spirits as a young cub; for she was clear-thinking and passed them off as foolish tales for cubs, as most wolves did. But now, after having her life saved twice by them, she was surer of their existence than she was of her own. Without their assistance, she would be dead now, either by the rock wall murdered by hostile wolves, or here in this forest of starvation. A strange thought occurred to her then. What if I don’t even need to belong to a pack? What if the spirits are my pack and I live like this for the rest of my life? A lone wolf. Or would I be alone? To other wolves, yes. They can’t sense spirits and they would never trust me. Every wolf fears being alone above all else, and to see a lone wolf is to look danger and fear in the face. Why is it that wolves also fear everything they don’t, or won’t, understand? Why can’t they just accept that some of us are different, and don’t need anyone? 
Saghani sighed wearily. Sometimes the world just didn’t make any sense, and all wolves seemed foolish. She wished that they would all open their minds and experience the world in a new dimension, one that she herself had only just discovered. She growled at herself for having not believed in spirits as a cub. If she ever had cubs, she would make sure that they heard the stories of how they had saved their mother’s life again and again, and they would be filled with belief instead of disbelief and contempt. 
 
The next morning, the black she-wolf felt a vitality she hadn’t had for longer than she could remember. She jumped up walked over to the little stream and slammed her forepaws against the ice to break it. Lapping at the icy water, she remembered her dream with a shudder. Then she noticed something odd in the gravel on its bank. It was shiny and round and yellow, unlike anything she had ever seen before. If she had been a human, she would have been ecstatic, for it was gold. 
Saghani plowed through the snow for days, and, with her new energy, was able to kill any small animal she found, and her condition began to improve. Her coat was beginning to grow back in, sleek and thick and glossy, and she began to fill out. Her blue eyes were bright and her strides were determined and strong. So, through the middle of the bitterest winter in years, she survived[/quote]

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FantasyWriter	I liked it! I don't really know where you're going with the story, so I can't really see any problems.. as the story developes, some things may change and you may want to edit it.
Here is a newer chapter	SURVIVAL (ch. 3 from 'Spirit Wolf' by Lisa Bennish) A bitter wind swept over the open stretch of snow-covered meadow, and the sky was iron grey and bleak. The temperature had fallen, and winter was at its cruelest. The sun was hidden behind the clouds of the overcast sky, and nature itself was solemn. The wind even sounded mournful as it whispered across the heavy white drifts, catching at the surface and swirling small, icy flakes up and along with it as if seeking a cold consolation. The hills in the distance with their blackened, twisting branches completed the picture, and they especially invoked sorrow. In a dip in the ground at the southernmost point of the meadow, were two she-wolves. One of them, brown streaked with grey, lay on the snow, which was soaked red with blood. Her breathing was shallow and pained, and her yellow eyes were dull and clouded. On her flank was a horridly infected bullet wound, which was festering and swollen. She was barely alive, and her strength was ebbing away rapidly. The other she-wolf was sitting beside her, and pure black with sapphire-blue eyes. Her head was bowed and her ears drooped, and her shoulders were slumped dismally. She knew that her mother was dying, but at the same time, she could not accept it. For some reason, she continued to lie to herself, and her thoughts were scattered and broken. She’s going to make it, I know she is. My mother can’t die; she can’t. She would think irrationally, over and over again. Then she would realize how futile it was, and growl at herself out loud. Her mother would then raise her head and look up at her questioningly, and the black wolf’s heart would twist with apprehension. What is happening to me? She would wonder silently and gaze about her at the desolate landscape. Her ribs stood out clearly beneath her ragged coat, from which patches of fur were missing. Lately it had begun to drop out from her loose skin in clumps, and her overall condition was deteriorating. Her eyes were hollow and sunken in, and her gums were becoming pale. She shivered constantly because her fur no longer retained heat and her body fat was virtually gone. Every day it got a little harder to seek out food and water, and she was a bit more exhausted. The only thing that kept her going was her mother, who was in fact dying, no matter what she might tell herself. “Saghani, you must leave,” her mother said feebly, not even having the strength to raise her head to look her in the eyes. Saghani jolted upright and stared at her, suddenly alarmed. Leave? She wants me to leave her here to die? Never! “Mother, how can you say that? Why would I leave you here to starve in the snows?” she snapped, a spark lighting her eyes for the first time in days. The brown and grey she-wolf whispered, “Daughter, listen to me. I am dying, I can feel it. Death no longer frightens me, it welcomes me. When it takes me, I will no longer be in pain, and I will see what lies beyond. You must stay strong. Survive. You will be the last member of our pack, and you must live. Please, go out into the world and find another pack to join; my last wish is for you to live.” Saghani felt as if each and every strained word cut into her flesh like a claw, leaving behind raw, bleeding wounds. She was breathing hard, and her head felt light and dizzy as she peered down into her mother’s beloved face even as she was speaking her last. The brown-grey wolf’s eyes had glassed over, and her own breath had left her lungs for the final time, and when her daughter prodded her with a paw, she didn’t move and felt icy and stiff. The black wolf lifted her muzzle to the bitter sky and let her equally bitter howl ring through the snowy air, the melancholic note echoing winter’s hopelessness and sorrow as it soared high above the Alaskan wilderness like a merciless bird of prey. Saghani’s paws were sore; she had been running for nearly a day and a half with the briefest intervals of rest. She had found a scrawny rabbit and eaten it, but her stomach still clamored for food and her head didn’t feel much better. The black she-wolf was stunned by the loss of her dear mother, and was still in the grieving stage of denial. She felt confused and was often disoriented, and she was frustrated with her clumsiness at hunting and tracking. Not that there was much to hunt or track anyway. Saghani had run into the forested hills, though she had no idea where she was going. She just knew that she had to leave her pack’s territory; she had heard the hunters’ airplane several times while she was watching over her mother in her last few days. My last wish is for you to live. She kept those words circling around and around in her mind, and with little doubt, they were the only thing that kept her going. She could not dishonor her mother’s dying request, no matter how useless her situation seemed. She would find another wolf pack sooner or later; it was only a matter of time. Then, possibly, she could begin another life, and have a fresh start. As night cloaked her surroundings in darkness, the black she-wolf walked up to the hollow at the _base_ of a mighty trembling aspen tree and nosed around curiously. She found that brown, dead leaves from fall had been swept into it and were dry and warm, and curled up in them, putting her tail over her nose for extra warmth. Besides being hungry, she was relatively comfortable and soon fell asleep. In the morning, everything was heaped with fresh snow, gleaming brightly in the grey dawn light. Saghani was awakened by the raucous noise of her own stomach growling and she sat up and shook her head to clear it. She sniffed deeply, and detected the barest trace of a rabbit. Wagging her tail in great arcs back and forth and tongue lolling, the black wolf crouched and stalked forward. The rabbit was as hungry as she was, and was picking through the snow, trying to find a bit of withered foliage, but without success. Its reaction to the predator was too slow, and it hardly had time to shriek as Saghani’s fangs met in the back of its neck, snapping its spinal cord and delivering instant death. Saghani grinned as delicious blood filled her mouth and she set the kill down upon the snow and began to tear off chunks and swallow them whole. She couldn’t help but long for the even more delicious taste of deer, and with that thought, she realized that she would never be able to kill one on her own; she needed other wolves to plan a strategy of attack. She was already lonely, and she frequently howled, but in vain. For days and days she traveled, but there was never an answering howl. Discouragement crept into her heart and mind, and she howled less and less. One bitterly cold morning, though, she reached the top of a hill and tilted her muzzle to the sky. The note shattered the freezing air, and the sound of it was loud in the silent wood. Saghani was just getting ready to leave when a different howl came to her ears. It sounded angry, and nearby. Others followed it, until a threatening chorus had started up. The black she-wolf felt the danger of it thrilling through her being, and her head felt dizzier than ever, and she staggered as she turned to run. The unfairness of it hit her at that moment; and the irony too. Why is it that when I finally find other wolves, they want to drive me from their territory? If they’d just listen to me, maybe I could tell them that I am NOT an intruder; that I just want to belong to a pack…Saghani thought furiously. She snarled at her clumsiness as she sprang down the steep hill, her forepaws reaching out in front of her and her hind legs striking off the angled slope and propelling her forward at great speed. The she-wolf flew down the hill and into a ravine, and she could hear the other wolves crashing through the bushes behind her, in hot pursuit. They were growling and barking with intense scorn and hatred; in these hard times, the last thing they needed was to waste what little energy they had on chasing out a suspicious lone wolf. Saghani now knew what it was to be hunted, and the wild fear that was threatening to consume her was overpowering. Her blue eyes were wide and her tongue lolled as she struggled for breath, and she was beginning to run out of strength. The hostile wolves were drawing closer even as she began to slow down, and her last hope of escape was shattered like ice as she slammed to a halt. Looking up, the fleeing she-wolf saw a sheer wall of rock closing off the narrow mouth of the ravine. There was no way out, for the wolves had gained ground and were now walking slowly toward her, their ears flattened and their lips curled to show her their sharp fangs. The leader, a scraggly brown wolf with brown eyes, stopped and lifted his tail, signaling his followers to stop also. The three wolves behind him glared menacingly, and one, a grey she-wolf, was already preparing to leap. Saghani had quickly turned around to face them, and now her head throbbed with disbelief. How can this be happening to me? When will I wake up from this horrible nightmare? She thought woefully. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a wind picked up and swirled about them all, but only Saghani heard it as it seemed to whisper, “Strong, stay strong…survive.” And all at once she knew that it was her mother somehow, speaking to her from wherever her spirit was. That was all it took, and the she-wolf felt renewed vitality flooding into her even as the strange wind ebbed away. The hostile wolves had swung their heads around rapidly, looking in all directions as the wind stirred the snow and dead leaves beneath it into a sort of flurry, and weren’t prepared for her attack. Snarling and snapping viciously, Saghani charged into the middle of their group and began to slash out with her fangs and claws, tearing fur and flesh wherever she could reach it. The startled wolves had no idea what was going on, and knew only that they were afraid and began to scramble backwards frantically. The leader yelled, “RUN!” and they did, all the way back up the ravine and didn’t stop until they had reached their main rendezvous site, where their comrades stared at them and sniffed at their wounds curiously, to their humiliation. Saghani stood there, just as confused as the wolves who had fled. Hope flooded into her, and purpose too. She would never doubt her mother’s presence again, and it gave her confidence and comfort. She wasn’t alone, and never would be. The black she-wolf held her head and tail high and set off up and out of the ravine and into the unknown bravely and without fear. Night settled in, and with it, great, fluffy flakes of snow. The sky was bright grey, and eerily light; nearly light enough for it to be dawn or even midday. The temperature had risen slightly, and the conditions were perfect for a major snowfall. The lone wolf in the heart of the forest wondered if the winter would ever end. Even with her new reassurance, she was aware that she was slowly starving. Each day her paws were harder to move, and she went to sleep earlier and slept in later. Fatigue was her constant companion, and in many ways more frightening than her insatiable hunger. She curled up near the _base_ of a tree with her tail warming her nose. Instantly, there was a scene before her, of a smooth, pure, deep blue stretch of ice _frame_d by the imposing mountain range in the distance. It was spring, and pools of shallow water were scattered across its surface. The ice was desperately thin, yet she felt that somehow something was chasing her, and that there was no other way; she had to cross it. Carefully, she set a paw on it and immediately felt it bend and heard the water squishing up from beneath it. Terror surged through her, and her blue eyes were large and round like a frightened cub’s. The sudden sound of something large crashing through the forest at her back decided for her, and she sprang out onto the treacherous, melting lake of ice. Awkwardly, she scrabbled at the slippery surface, and finally with her claws she managed to get a purchase on it and began to move forward. She splashed through the puddles of melted water and when she was in the middle of the lake, she heard a groaning noise and then a horrifying crack and then she was crashing through the ice and her head was underwater. The icy water stabbed through her fur and felt like a thousand fangs biting into her flesh all at once, and she tried to paddle with her paws, but they were numb and her still heavy coat was dragging her down and down into the black, freezing depths of the lake. Saghani woke with a jolt; she was shivering violently and as she sat up, a thick _layer_ of snow was shaken from her pelt. She looked around in disbelief. Three feet of snow had fallen from the bitter sky, and it was heaped up around the trunks of the trees and completely covered the undergrowth. How was she supposed to travel? Plowing through the snow in enormous leaps would tire her in no time at all, and her progress would be unbearably slow and hard work. The only way she could possibly survive was if she had a large meal to give her the energy she needed to accomplish it. Still trying to recover from her ghastly dream, the she-wolf shook her head and got to her feet. She had to hunt. Spirit of my mother, help me to find a deer and give me the strength of two wolves to kill it, so that I might honor your last wish and survive. She closed her eyes and prayed fervently. Imagining that her mother’s spirit indeed was beside her, she set off through the snow, her eyes fierce and her teeth bared as if to threaten nature’s wrath. A frozen little stream with gravelly banks at the bottom of another ravine provided her first chance. A skinny herd of deer were pawing at the ice with their cloven hooves to shatter the ice so they could drink. Saghani crouched at the top of the lip of the ravine and watched observantly. She noticed that when a certain doe near the edge of the group walked, it limped slightly. Only an accomplished hunter like Saghani could have detected it. She had excellent eyesight, though her sense of smell was somewhat below average, and her hearing was normal. The deer looked up and adrenaline fueled their flight as they turned as one and leaped up the steep ravine. However, the doe with the limp tripped on the strain it put on her already injured tendon and it snapped. Crying out with agony, she fell and rolled over and over, hitting hard at the bottom. She tried to get up, but her leg gave out every time, and so she lay there on the snowy ground thrashing about, her eyes huge and liquid in her thin, pretty face. The wolf was running at her, and her head swam as she felt the searing pain of its fangs cutting through her belly. Saghani was ravenous, and the bloodlust of a wild wolf had taken over. Her vision was a red haze, and all she could think was kill. She ripped open the deer’s stomach and began to feast on the internal organs as they fell out, steaming deliciously. The doe was in such pain that she lost consciousness, and when she finally died, she wasn’t even aware of what was happening. The she-wolf, having already gulped down the organs, began to tear at the muscle. The snow was red with blood, and Saghani lay near the remains of her kill, her own stomach bloated and full. Silently she thanked the spirits for the opportunity she had been given. If that doe hadn’t had an injured tendon, she would never have been able to take it, and she would probably have died. Saghani had never believed in spirits as a young cub; for she was clear-thinking and passed them off as foolish tales for cubs, as most wolves did. But now, after having her life saved twice by them, she was surer of their existence than she was of her own. Without their assistance, she would be dead now, either by the rock wall murdered by hostile wolves, or here in this forest of starvation. A strange thought occurred to her then. What if I don’t even need to belong to a pack? What if the spirits are my pack and I live like this for the rest of my life? A lone wolf. Or would I be alone? To other wolves, yes. They can’t sense spirits and they would never trust me. Every wolf fears being alone above all else, and to see a lone wolf is to look danger and fear in the face. Why is it that wolves also fear everything they don’t, or won’t, understand? Why can’t they just accept that some of us are different, and don’t need anyone? Saghani sighed wearily. Sometimes the world just didn’t make any sense, and all wolves seemed foolish. She wished that they would all open their minds and experience the world in a new dimension, one that she herself had only just discovered. She growled at herself for having not believed in spirits as a cub. If she ever had cubs, she would make sure that they heard the stories of how they had saved their mother’s life again and again, and they would be filled with belief instead of disbelief and contempt. The next morning, the black she-wolf felt a vitality she hadn’t had for longer than she could remember. She jumped up walked over to the little stream and slammed her forepaws against the ice to break it. Lapping at the icy water, she remembered her dream with a shudder. Then she noticed something odd in the gravel on its bank. It was shiny and round and yellow, unlike anything she had ever seen before. If she had been a human, she would have been ecstatic, for it was gold. Saghani plowed through the snow for days, and, with her new energy, was able to kill any small animal she found, and her condition began to improve. Her coat was beginning to grow back in, sleek and thick and glossy, and she began to fill out. Her blue eyes were bright and her strides were determined and strong. So, through the middle of the bitterest winter in years, she survived

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