Home to the Wild, page 1
CONTENTS
Dedication
Wolf-to-Human Language
Content Warnings:
I. When You Find a Home
1. Larka
2. Larka
3. Larka
4. Rae
5. Rae
6. Rae
7. Rae
8. Larka
9. Little One
10. Little One
11. Rae
12. Little One
13. Rae
14. Rae
15. Rae
16. Little One
17. Rae
18. Little One
19. Little One
II. But Get Lost Along the Way
20. Little One
21. Little One
22. Little One
23. Little One
24. Little One?
25. Little One?
26. Little One?
27. Little One?
28. Little One?
29. Little One?
30. Artemis?
31. Artemis?
32. Artemis
33. Artemis
34. Artemis
III. To Struggle and Love
35. Artemis
36. Artemis
37. Artemis
38. Artemis
39. Artemis
40. Artemis
41. Artemis
42. Artemis
Epilogue
More to Read
The Journey Continues
Want More Wolf Action?
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Home to the Wild © Copyright 2022 Francesca McMahon
* * *
All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual person, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
* * *
Cover Illustration by Arthur Bowling III
Cover Typography by MiblArt
Interior Design by AB Book Services
Editing by Carly Catt
* * *
ISBN: 978-1-7398853-1-1 (Ebook edition)
ISBN: 978-1-7398853-2-8 (Paperback edition)
DEDICATION
For my very own Larka. You prepared me for the world and supported me throughout it.
I love you, Mum.
WOLF-TO-HUMAN LANGUAGE
Den – Home
False Forest – A Town
False Sun – A light
False wolves - dogs
Many suns/moons – Many days
Moon cycle – One month
Mother Wolf – “God”/Mother Nature/Spirit
Night lights - Stars
Savage Blood – Rabies
Season – One year
Shadows pass – Hours
Smoking sticks – Guns
Span’s distance – A Mile
Sun pass – One day
Sun’s fever – Fire
Sun’s time – Summer
The cold season – Winter months
White Coat - Doctor
CONTENT WARNINGS:
This work contains depictions of child abuse, animal death, animal cruelty, and depression.
PART I
WHEN YOU FIND A HOME
1
LARKA
There was something in the air that night. A scent that poisoned the surrounding forest with its pungent aroma of fear and remorse. Larka was on edge, her ears pricked, her body tensed, ready to propel her into action. And yet, the Forest was still. Silence surrounded her and her family. Even the wind had fallen quiet. It was as if the land itself was holding its breath.
Larka barked an order to the group to fall into a single line; on guard and ready to engage if necessary. The wind began anew. A harsh breeze brushed against them, picking up the freshly fallen snow from the ground and creating a beautiful image in the sky. For a moment, Larka watched as the snowflakes danced in the wind. Then, a nudge from her mate, Echo, forced her into moving.
She was the best choice to lead the hunt, her white coat making her nearly invisible in the snow. Though Echo was the greater hunter, his dark fur stood out too much in comparison. Instead, he followed behind her, ready to engage when needed. Once they began the chase, he wouldn’t hold back.
A rustle stopped Larka in her tracks – her eyes searching for movement in the darkness. When the sound didn’t occur again, she thought she may have mistaken the noise for trees shuddering in the wind.
She went to usher the pack forward when she heard the sound again – but this time, it was different. Turning to Echo for confirmation, she saw that his ears were pricked in the same direction as hers. He turned to her, a simple answer present in his anxious huff.
The noise continued; a wail carried among the gales. Her pack was panicked, their fur standing up on edge in their unease. Larka could feel their growing need to flee, but she couldn’t allow that. No wolf runs from the unknown. With a huff and a snort, she scraped her claws against the snow in warning to the wolves.
Await my signal, go nowhere else but here, she growled, and she knew they would listen. They always did.
As they stood to attention, she slipped away and approached the source of the noise with caution, hoping to gain a better look at what they were up against before attacking.
Sensing Echo at her tail, Larka felt more at ease. They weren’t far from the source now, the noise growing louder and more painful to their ears, even though it seemed to be buried among the bushes. That stench of fear and remorse engulfed their senses once more, but this wasn’t the time to feel overwhelmed.
They attempted to see the creature from their hiding spot, and while they could see an outline of a figure, it was near impossible to make out from the enclave of vegetation that surrounded them. Against her better judgement, Larka took a risk.
She pounced.
Larka fell towards the bush, teeth bared, and claws extended. As she ploughed through the snow-covered branches, she snarled. Without hesitation, as the figure came into sight, she went to strike – until the creature mewled.
Larka’s head tilted in confusion at the abnormal, yet somewhat familiar, sound. Blinking her eyes, she took in the little creature before her. It was small, furless, defenceless, and wrapped in a strange cocoon within an oddly shaped bush. The hairless beast stared up at her, observing her just as she did it. Grunting, the little one wiggled about, pathetic, soft whimpers escaping its lips.
What a peculiar thing, she thought as she pawed gently at the little one, snorting in surprise at the sharp delighted noise that escaped its snout.
The scent from before lingered in the air around the little one, but it didn’t come from them. Instead, this furless pup held an aroma of joy. And urine. Lifting her nose into the air, Larka attempted to detect the owner of the earlier scent, and see whether they were still nearby. She found nothing.
Something grabbed Larka’s fur- she turned to bite the offender but found the little one, escaped from its prison, face-first in the snow. It wasn’t particularly bright, it seemed, or even that mobile. A strange garble of noises came from its snout as it grabbed and stroked Larka’s fur, fascination in its eyes.
There seems to be something familiar about this creature, she said, her words soft and curious.
A deep sigh sounded behind her, and she turned to find Echo watching the two of them. His eyes focused on the little one, a sense of recognition on his face as he watched the creature hold tightly to Larka.
I thought I had long lost the memory of their smell, but I suppose it is one you can never truly forget. He turned to Larka, a sadness in his eyes. A human. A female, if my senses are correct.
Larka stepped back from the human sharply, trying to ignore the cry of misery it released as she did. She refused to let the noise affect her, no matter how much it sounded like her own pups. This was a human. She knew what these beasts were like all too well.
Echo approached Larka, his eyes fixed on the human who, clumsily, pulled a strange item from its mobile shelter and covered itself with it as its body shook from the cold.
It has been left to die, he said, seemingly unfeeling, and yet Larka sensed a saddened tone in his words. Echo sighed. I had seen the cruelty of these people before; I just never expected to see it inflicted on their own kind.
She watched the strange creature as it unsteadily held itself up on its back legs, falling onto all four intermittently, its strange cover collecting snow in patches each time. A small cry of complaint followed as its paws touched the cold ground, and its perplexed expression showed exactly how it felt about it. Larka held back a snort of amusement.
Nature will take its course soon enough, Echo continued, his tone disconnected from the words. We should leave, so it may continue.
Larka turned from Little One in shock. She had never known for her mate to be so uncaring in the matter of the young. Human or not, younglings and their loss was always a sombre experience. Only moments ago, he had shown sympathy for the beast, and yet now he was prepared to leave her to die? She’d never seen Echo be so cold-hearted before.
Her eyes turned to the young one who watched her and Echo in fascination. While the pup moved closer to them, she seemed to sense the tension building in the air and kept her distance enough to keep herself safe. Maybe she was not as dim as Larka had assumed. Not that Larka could ever hurt her, even the thou
Echo turned to leave, drawing Larka’s attention away from Little One. Disgusted by his actions, if only briefly, she rounded on him, teeth bared.
You would leave this Little One defenceless and at the mercy of the forest? Just because she is human? She snarled, only slightly aware that, from the gusting wind, her words would have been carried to the ears of her pack nearby. Not that she cared much at this moment. This was the right decision, the right action. She would be damned if she did not fight for it. Little One is just a pup we—
Little One? Echo asked, a tilt to his head.
Taken aback at the question, she paused. She realised that in just a short time, she already felt attached to this useless little thing. Larka watched as Little One toddled about, the shiver more prominent in her body, but the joyful noise never faded. She didn’t know why, not yet, but she knew what she had to do next – no matter what Echo thought.
A huff drew her attention to Echo who Little One was now bothering with inquisitive touches. Just as she had with Larka, her small claws tugged at Echo’s fur, and occasionally she would lean forward to bite him. When she grabbed or bit too hard, she would receive a little nip, which seemed to not bother her at all – if the strange cheerful noise that escaped her was anything to go by.
Electing to ignore Little One’s attention as best he could, Echo turned to Larka, pretending a human wasn’t poking his ears.
The natural world has its balance, Larka, you know this. Little One grew bored and stumbled instead towards Larka, a smile on her face.
A human in our world. He sighed. It is unheard of. I saw how they lived, and it is a far cry from how we do. Their kind is not built like us. Her chance of survival… He didn’t finish his train of thought, but his focus on the shivering young girl said it all.
Her furless exterior was not sustainable in this environment. On instinct, Larka stepped closer to Little One, a momentary hope that her own warmth could delay the seemingly inevitable end.
Larka had had no direct experience with humans before. That was Echo’s area of expertise. She didn’t understand them or their limits, but this young one seemed resilient. The scent of the creature who abandoned her was faint when they first arrived, showing it had been some time since Little One was left to die. Yet, even in her furless state, she had survived.
Just as I saved you from the humans, I will save her, Larka stated. She is strong, Echo. She can make it; I am sure of it.
Little One clutched at Larka’s fur with her claws, digging them into its warmth. For a seemingly useless creature, she was intelligent enough to understand how to keep herself safe in this climate.
A sigh drew her attention away from Little One and back to Echo. His expression was a mixture of many: dismay, humour, and adoration. He stepped forward, bumping his head softly against hers.
You are incorrigible, my soul, he said, a teasing tone to his words.
Larka pulled back, insulted all the same. Incorrigible? How dare you! I—
A grunt stopped her in the beginning of her tirade as Little One fell with a thump into the snow once more. Instantly, she turned her attention away from Echo and onto the pup. Crouching down, she softened the maw of her jaw onto the soft muscle of Little One’s foreleg and pulled her up and close to her, making sure the strange material stayed wrapped around her pale skin.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Echo step towards them. A tenseness built in her shoulders and her hackles raised instinctively, an action she had only done when protecting her pups at the Den.
Echo slowed his pace, sensing this change, and lowered his head submissively before he spoke. Her strange nest will be best for her to be kept in right now, away from the cold and wet ground. He stepped slowly closer, his eyes never leaving Larka’s. With a tilt of his head, he asked for permission to take Little One.
Realising her irrational attitude, Larka stepped back.
Without a word, Echo turned from her and towards the pup. Using his teeth carefully, he soft-mouthed his jaw onto her forearm and dragged her towards her nest. After placing her inside, Larka watched as her smitten mate carefully laid the soft material atop her to keep Little One warm before he lapped his tongue against her cheek and pulled away.
I understand what has drawn you to her, but I am afraid our pack will not... Echo said, trailing off, his eyes still on the child before he finally turned away. Stepping towards Larka, he nuzzled the side of her neck. But I will support you when we return home with the human pup.
He drew back from her, his eyes holding hers. His actions left Larka in a state of shock. Loyalty was a quality she had always treasured in her mate; nevertheless, it surprised her each time. Larka watched him, love in her eyes, as he bowed his head and told her he would speak to the pack to prepare them. Then, Echo set off into the woods.
Watching him leave, a sense of warmth filled her. It was only the attention-seeking whimper that finally drew her away. As she headed over to Little One, who thankfully was entangled still in her strange contraption, she looked at her fully for the first time. The young pup stared at her, eyes wide with wonder and what seemed to be love. Larka wasn’t sure why she had been left to die in the forest, but she knew she would not let that happen.
Come, Little One, she purred. It is time we went home.
2
LARKA
Carrying Little One’s shelter back to the Den was a lot more complicated, and tiring, than Larka expected. She dragged, pushed, and carried it as best she could, but with the distance they had travelled for their hunt, she wasn’t making much progress in getting closer to home.
If her family hadn’t been nearby, she would have been concerned about her vulnerability. She listened once more to the delicate padding of paws on the crunching snow around her, the sound of their presence calming her. Empowered by her pack, she tried again. Latching her teeth and locking her jaw on the arch of the nest, she lifted.
Slowly but surely, she made progress. And as the forest grew denser, she knew they were getting close. Larka relaxed. Soon she’d have Little One fed and warm alongside her pups.
Then she heard it.
Larka stopped sharply in place, her ears pricking to a new set of pattering paws. They stepped slowly and deliberately, as if trying to hide their arrival.
Putting Little One’s nest down, she positioned herself into a protective stance above her. With teeth bared, she searched, trying to pinpoint the direction of the prowler.
It didn’t take long before the predator revealed themselves, their scent too easy to identify. For a moment, Larka relished in the idea of finally putting this creature where it belonged. That was until she realised her pack was not close enough to fight with her.
My, my, what a treat we have here.
A low growl built in her chest. Larka’s amber eyes locked with the golden pair of a bark-coloured cougar. Its feline features caught the reflection of the moon in the snow, giving the creature a sinister look as it bared its own fangs in a wicked smile of mirth. The cocky attitude was unmistakable.
Hye, Larka snarled, unchecked rage dripping in her words, like the saliva that trickled down her maw. What a displeasure to see you again. And in the pack’s territory of all places.
