The First Wolves

2. CELEBRATION OF THE MOON

The camp hummed with excitement and enthusiasm. Fidella thought of how she used to tell the stories of the moon festival from inside the cramped cells of the House of Heaton. Her promise to all the gladiators had been that she would organise the celebration when they were free, and this had often been the hope they needed on the nights when the moon was blocked from their view, but still shone bright and vivid in their imaginations. Earlier, the pups had been sent on a search and retrieve mission to find the most beautiful autumn leaves. Therefore, just as she had anticipated, she had piles of russet leaves around her. Pretending that she couldn’t decide which one was the prettiest, she had the pups use them to create a huge circle, creating a spacious area to dance in later that evening.

During their last rescue, the team had freed some wolves who were entertainers for the magistrate of a small town. They were adamant that they wanted to use their skills to delight the pack that evening. A small token of the thanks they felt for their deliverance. Fidella was secretly looking forward to the trapeze artist most of all.

Winnifred was sitting on the ground with a circle of other she-wolves all skinning the meat for the evening meal. Her face was soft as if the forest had revived her. Maybe that was the effect of freedom, or the fact that most of the pack realised that she hadn’t been her true self as the matriarch, and wanted to give her a chance. Unfortunately, not everyone had the same perspective and many would openly avoid her. Bounding from the treeline, Andre ran towards Winnifred, kneeling at her knees and presenting his kill, exaggerating his chivalry.

“Dearest lady, and ladies, I present my humble offering. Although I am embarrassed that it isn’t the elk you deserve, I know that in your hands you will elevate my meagre display into a meal worthy of the Goddess,” He continued his mock devotion by kneeling on the floor and kowtowing.

All the she-wolves laughed at his performance, but Winnifred’s laugh sounded like that of a child’s, carefree and light. It was as if it hadn’t aged with her, instead it had been preserved in the tomb that the former matriarch had locked away all her happiness. Fidella wondered when could have been the last time that her laugh had been heard, and who would have heard it?

Taking the rabbits from him, Winnifred continued to smile, saying, ‘It was the exact flavour that the stew had been missing’ before sending him on his way.

Andre was new to the camp. He had never known Winnifred to be anything but kind, and, therefore, he was always respectful to her. Purposefully, he ignored the rumours about her. Skilled as a hunter, it was inevitable that he would connect with the pack chef, and it was good to see their friendship grow.

Fidella left the pups with the pack members, and went into the forest to search for Conri. He had secretively rushed out in the morning, declaring he had a game planned for the pups that he wanted to prepare before the party that night. Freedom had enticed out a more playful side of the Alpha that he used to entertain the pups with in a way that he had missed out on as a child. Although she was glad to see him carefree, she hadn’t actually seen him since the early hours of the morning. Allowing her bond to guide her towards him, she took the time to value the damp moss cushioning beneath her feet, the deep hue of the fir trees, and the crunch of the golden dried leaves she disturbed. Distracted from her task, she stood still, enjoying the gifts of nature that had once felt forbidden to her. After years of villas and cleaning, the experience felt as if it wasn’t meant for her. It dawned on her that the feeling of being too unworthy to enjoy where she should feel the most at home was the deeper scarring of enslavement. To rebel against it, she ensured she appreciated each sight and sound for even longer. How many others of their pack members felt this way? Every time a new member joined their pack she would ensure that she walked with them in the forest, letting them know that it was OK to feel as if they belonged to the earth. The damage from her captivity was still there, but she knew she was a free wolf and worthy of all nature’s love. She breathed in the sharp scent of raspberry and lemon and ran towards it, eager to see Conri. Playfully, he captured her from behind. Fidella was so focused on her mate, his gentle kisses, and the tingles from his arms as they wrapped around her that she didn’t notice the carvings on the tree trunks until her mate swung her around. Each tree trunk, for as far as Fidella could see, had a wolf’s head carved into it. It was stunning, but perplexing. Conri laughed at his mate’s expression.

“It’s for the pups. You were teaching them to count, so I thought this would be a fun way for them to practise. They have to count up as many as they can find, and the pup that is closest will get extra honey for their breakfast. The pup who can provide the co-ordinates for the largest wolf carving will get the cream from the top of the milk. This way, they can practise the skills Otto and Rufus taught them. It will encourage them in their studies and training,” Conri explained.

His attentiveness to the orphaned pups in their pack made Fidella love him even more than she thought possible.

“Will it be safe for them?” Fidella asked, concerned.

“We have warriors on the boundaries and in the trees that Iselda has stationed. Don’t worry, my queen,” he reassured her.

Leaning down, he savoured how her fingers ran through his hair, how she leaned back a little before allowing him to devour her lips in his mouth, the moans she would make as he sucked her bottom lip, trapping it between his teeth. Desire escalated in his body, and he was slowly giving into the lure of her lust, when the all too frequent mind-link interrupted them.

“We need to review the ceremony for tonight. Are you and Luna free to confirm some details?” The elder asked them.

A joint moan of frustration escaped from them both, causing them to giggle at each other’s reluctance, before they headed back to camp hand in hand. Lately, this seemed to be the end result of all their moments together.

When the food was ready, and the moon began to appear almost translucent as the day clung on for the last few minutes, the party animated into a cacophony of high-spirited joy. The younger she-wolves were dancing to the drumming beat, fixing their eyes on the wolves they hoped would be their mates when they reached the age of pairing. Meanwhile, there were gasps and cheers as the entertainers juggled with balls and knives. The fire breather blew out blazing, billowing orange flames towards the sky, the heat of which warmed his captivated audience. As expected, the trapeze artist dazzled everyone with her daring flips and leaps between the swinging bars. She was flying, completely confident in her skills, and Conri noticed how his Luna looked mesmerised by the grace and talent above her. The pups were running, screaming and laughing. Shouting numbers at Conri to see if they had found all the wolf carvings yet. The alpha laughed unreservedly as their guesses became more outrageous. Fidella looked over her pack and thought that the moon Goddess had really blessed them that evening, for what greater gift could be bestowed than life and the wisdom to enjoy its splendour.

When everyone’s belly had been filled with a hearty meal, and souls enriched with the safety that came from the pack, the ritual to praise the Goddess Selene began. Fidella couldn’t remember all the details of the ceremony, and asked the elder wolves in the pack what they could remember about the solemn worship of their Goddess. Interestingly, everybody’s version was different and unique, so Fidella had decided to respect all the memories, and fuse them together. Adding to the sobriety of their worship, Fidella asked four of the elder wolves to have a pivotal role in the proceedings.

The four elders: Winnifred, Askel, Daizus and Hager stood at the edge of the autumnal circle, looking at the fire in the middle of it. The pack members were silent with anticipation.

Askel walked towards the fire first, then walked around the edge of the flames looking out at the wolves. Otto and Rufus had offered him emancipation in the pack when they had been searching for information about the soldiers they were sure would soon be sent to recapture them. He had happily accepted. He stopped next to the camp fire, staring into the flames as if he was having a long-awaited conversation. He raised his hands, so that all could see, and then he confidently clapped through the centre of the fire. There was an audible intake of gasps, as the fire was pushed away by the force of the air when his palms collided.

“Goddess Selene, the air we inhaled as slaves was bitter, the free air is sweeter. May we never know bitterness again. Thank-you for our blessings, for our Alpha and our Luna,” Askel looked up at the moon, and the pack followed his lead.

Daizus limped towards the fire, her leg had been hurt during her enslavement. Slow and painful steps made the dedication even more revenant. Ewan had found her on a rescue mission, and carried her on his back in wolf form, so she would have a chance to enjoy the remainder of her life. She stepped closer to the fire. Pouring liquid from the water skin at her hip onto her hands, she flicked the droplets into the fire, and the pack watched the steam rise as it sizzled with the contact.

“Goddess Selene, the water that sustained us when we were enslaved was stagnant, the water now is pure and fresh. May we never choke on tainted water again. Thank-you for our blessings, our Beta, our Gamma, and our Warriors,” Daizus concluded, slowly hobbling back to her place.

Ewan and Iselda stood taller when their positions were mentioned, feeling both the weight and honour of their duty.

The pack patiently waited for the next elder.

Hager approached the fire next, his eyes were watery with barely contained emotion: mainly pride. After hearing of the wolves that had escaped their masters, Hager had run to where they were rumoured to be, but didn’t enter the camp at first for fear he might have been followed. Andre discovered him during his hunt, and welcomed him home. The elder circled the fire, a symbol of their faith in the moon’s power and joy in their own completion, and then he kneeled down and collected a handful of soil. Unclenching his fist slightly, he shook his hand back and forth, sprinkling the soil onto the fire.

“Goddess Selene, our land was stolen from us, we are a pack with no territory. Accept our offering in the hope that one day we will find a land to call home. Thank you for our blessings, and the wolves who rescued us,” Hager looked up to the sky, the moon lit up his face.

Lastly, Winnifred came to the fire holding a long, thick branch. Like the others, she followed the path of the full moon around the fire, before lighting the tip of the branch and holding it in the air.

“Goddess Selene, for many years we were cold in body and spirit. These are the symptoms of wolves with no pack. Now we feel the heat, it burns through us when our community grows, in the way we care for each other, and our hope for a free future. Thank-you for all the blessings we have, and for the ones still to come,” Winnifred prayed, throwing the branch into the fire so that it glowed more fiercely.

Conri, released a jubilant howl that was echoed by the pack, even from those who hadn’t met with their wolves yet. He then gestured for Iselda to step forward. She had trained exceptionally hard in the time that followed their escape, and the fact that her wolf had flourished in size was a clear sign from the moon Goddess that she was destined to become the pack’s Gamma. However, even if this hadn’t happened, the bond between Iselda and Fidella was so fervent that it would have been the most logical position to ordain her with. They would spend hours training on the field together, both becoming dangerous opponents, but it was in the moments that they would reminiscence, cry and laugh together that truly connected them.

“A Gamma is a gift from the Goddess. When the first alpha feared he may not always be able to save his Luna, he begged the moon Goddess for her to be protected. The Gamma protects the pack, but above all, protects their Luna. Titan was an honourable Gamma, and gave his life in service to his oath, and the brotherly affection he had for Fidella. Iselda, are you ready to make your vow?” Conri asked.

Iselda smiled and reached her hands out to Fidella, who clasped them tightly. Allowing Ewa, her wolf, to come forward and share this holy moment when they made their sacred vow.

“I Iselda, declare myself Gamma to Luna Fidella. From this day to my last, may her troubles also be mine. Let me protect her from all harm and ill. If needed, I promise to give my life in place of hers. Let the Goddess strike me down if I ever dare to break the pledge I made today.” Their combined voice that declared their promise, was met with joyous cheers across the pack.

Fidella pulled her closer and hugged her tightly, promising herself that she would never lose another Gamma like she lost Titan. She was stronger now, and was determined to be stronger still.

“You are my Gamma now, but before all else, you are the sister I choose.” She quietly whispered to Iselda, knowing she felt the same.

The music restarted and Iselda sought out Ewan to discuss the plans for the pack move that was imminent, while Fidella reached out to Conri needing his comfort. Their moment was interrupted by a little tug on Conri’s tunic that made the giant alpha look down at the pup who seemed no older than ten. At second glance, he might have been an undernourished twelve-year-old.

“Alpha Conri, there are twenty-nine wolf carvings. The biggest one is the eighth tree to the east. It’s on a big oak tree,” The pup diligently relayed the information, as if he was a scout reporting his findings.

“You did very well, your answers are correct. You must be listening very well in your Luna’s lessons. What is your name?” Conri asked.

“My name is Bruno, it was given to me by my former master. I want to change it, but I haven’t decided on a new one yet,” Bruno replied, with determination in the grip of his jaw.

Conri nodded with understanding.

“When you decide on the name that you want, let me know and we will have a naming ceremony for you. Since you have won the game, the honey and cream from the milk is yours,” Conri ruffled his hair, praising the intriguing pup.

“Thank-you alpha, I’ll share the honey with my friends. When I was a slave, they made me a stable boy. Now I am free, I’m going to be a warrior, so I’ll need the cream to keep me strong,” Bruno explained, before running onto the dance floor, and spinning around with his friends.

The two alphas looked over their pack, proud of their members and the accomplishments they had all made in such a short amount of time. This moon ceremony was the first of many traditions they would build together.

“Conri, what are you going to do with the carvings? Our enemy will know that we have been here,” Fidella asked, slightly concerned that they would confirm their whereabouts.

“They will know we are here anyway, the area is too well lived in. Plus, we aren’t in hiding anymore, my queen. Let them be frustrated every time they are at a camp we just left. Let the carvings be the sign that we are free,” Conri reassured her, placing a soft kiss on her cheek.

Fidella didn’t agree with him, but decided not to voice anymore objections on such a happy evening. The party was thriving, all the wolves were dancing, and showing different rhythmic sequences from their homeland. The Alpha and Luna wished they could stay longer, but they had another duty that night that they couldn’t delay any longer.