Guardians of Ga'Hoole 10 - The Coming of Hoole

friendly cuff. Never spoke to her. So why was she with them now? he wondered. They distrust her, he thought. They are afraid of her in some way. He knew this as well as he knew anything. But there was something else he knew, and his heart, not his gizzard, went out to her. She was not to be feared at all. He was sure. She had a terrible sadness about her. A terrible unbearable sadness. Can’t they see that? Can’t they feel that?
    At dawn, they broke the formation of the byrrgiss torest. No caribou had been sighted but they were coming closer to their range. The dry and scrubby hillsides here were riddled with caves. The wolves found a large one and went in. Hoole himself went in, and he wondered if they would notice him. For although he felt totally at ease as a wolf, he knew they would only see him as an owl. But they paid no attention to him. A small hunting team had been sent out to scare up some rabbits or weasels. When they came back, Fengo tore apart the animals they had found and divided the portions according to rank. The earless female, Hordweard was her name, was given the smallest gristliest piece of a rabbit. Even Hoole got a much superior piece, a juicy haunch. Again, no one paid him any heed. He slurped his food just as the wolves did, making loud chomping noises. Maybe to them I do look like a wolf, Hoole thought. But when he looked down he saw the same white-spotted breast, the talons, and yet…? It was a mystery.
    Hoole did not perch in the cave but settled down, sprawled exactly like the wolves. When he began to edge himself closer to Hordweard, who slept in the farthest corner of the cave, Fengo motioned him away from her. He moved and quickly fell asleep. When he dreamed, he dreamed wolf dreams of running, bursting into attack speed, then slowing and crouching down in tall grass.Silent signals were given. The wolves slunk down in the thickest part of the grass and pressed their bellies to the ground as they approached the prey. He woke up in the middle of the dream. The wolves around him were stirring, and Fengo was just outside the cave with his muzzle lifted, sniffing the air.
    Caribou!
    The signal went through the pack. They headed off into the rising sun with their tails slightly raised. The pace was steady. Hoole saw the caribou herd ahead. The herd had speeded up for they were now aware of the wolves. Fengo gave a signal to turn the herd. Turn them west away from the rising sun. Of course, Hoole thought, in a few more minutes the sun would be blinding.
    The wolves increased their speed a bit and four females split off to the north. They streaked up to the flanks of the herd. The rest of the wolves caught up, but then abruptly slowed down. They had positioned the herd where they wanted them, but were not yet ready to attack. Fengo scanned the herd. They were looking for a weak one. One that was old, hungry, or lame. One that could be easily brought down.
    They spotted her. She was old and had been running in the middle of the herd but had grown tired and was lagging. As soon as she was several paces behind Fengo,they charged her. Just enough to split her entirely from the rest of the herd. In a surprising burst of speed, the old one took off. Now eight female wolves ran after her in spurts, tiring her out, making her think when they slowed that perhaps they weren’t interested. She became confused.
    It was like Hoole’s dream. He knew exactly what he was to do. Even though he still flew above, he felt part of him descend, crouch in the tall grass, his belly scraping the earth as they approached. The caribou lifted her head. She thought they were gone and became more relaxed. But the stalking had begun in earnest. Closer and closer Hoole crept. He was between Fengo and Dunmore. Fengo lifted his tail. A scent suddenly wafted through the air. He felt the other wolves’ hackles raise. Two females darted out and leaped onto the caribou, bringing her down and ripping open a great slash on her neck. She looked stunned but managed to rise to her feet once again. Then three young males charged and tore at her flank.
    Blood spurted from all of her wounds. She stood and stared at the retreating attackers. Hoole felt an immense surge of admiration for her, but no pity. She was meat and yet she was more than meat. She was magnificent. Fengo now signaled him. It was their turn. Dunmore, Fengo, and that part of Hoole that had become a creature of earth and not sky, burst out of the grasses. Hoole