Lone Wolf

All in one!
    He must let the caribou cow think that he had given  up. He scanned the landscape. There was a dip ahead and then beyond it a hill, not big but big enough. If he could fool her, then he could come from around the other side and force her to head for the incline.
    He gave a short, breathy series of huffs followed by a howl and turned tail. There was a sudden pocket of quiet in the night. The sound of the clicking tendons ceased. Faolan turned around slowly, almost elaborately. He felt the cow watching him. He disappeared into the dip and then circled around behind a low bluff. The cow had slowed to a walk. There was no defile to trap her, but if he could force her toward the slope ...
    He acted fast, so she had no time to recover. He bolted out from behind the bluff he had just circled and chased her up the incline in a tremendous burst of speed. She was only halfway up when he gave a great leap, slamming his front paws onto her hips to bring her down. He scrambled on top of her and secured a jaw hold on her neck. Then, peeling back his dark lips, he sank his teeth into the neck, crushing her windpipe. He wanted her to die fast, but not too fast. Once again, as with the cougar, he had an urge to acknowledge her strength, her endurance. She needed to know that he respected her, that he felt her worthy. The instinct for lochinvyrr was a  compulsion as old as wolves. He was desperate to look into this dying caribou's eyes. He wanted her to know that he valued her life, her gift to him. If this could happen the meat would be morrin, sanctified. It would be with good purpose that the caribou had died. Faolan knew none of this; it was only ancient instinct that guided him as the cow lay dying.
    There was a flicker of light in the old cow's eyes as she looked directly into Faolan's. He heard the crackle of the last breath in her broken windpipe. I have lived along life, a good life. I have calved and run with the herd. I am ready to go, to let go. My time is over. It was as if the two animals nodded to each other, and then the caribou died.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
    ***
    A F IRST DRUMLYN

    THE RAVENS BEGAN TO CIRCLE overhead before the caribou had taken her last breath. It irritated Faolan. It was not selfishness or hunger that made him growl as two pairs settled on a rock a short distance from the carcass. It was not even the fact that he had been the one to bring down the caribou and they wanted to feast on his hard work. It was rather the notion of these rackety birds with their harsh kras pecking at the meat of this noble animal. It disturbed him deeply. There was still meat left and Faolan had more than satiated his hunger, but the idea of the ravens sickened him. He decided to take the carcass to a place where it would be safe from scavengers.
    He began dragging the body by its antlers across the flat, treeless plain. The ravens followed and when he  paused or rested they would light down. But Faolan was a relentless sentry. He bared his teeth, revealing the long fangs that the birds had originally counted on for ripping open the tough hide of the caribou. The ravens found his behavior bewildering. Normally, after wolves had their fill they left the rest for the birds. It was why ravens were often known as wolf birds, for they followed the packs.
    As Faolan hauled the body across the plain, an idea came to him. He recalled the times when he and Thunderheart looked out onto the summer nights, and the grizzly told him the stories of the star pictures. In particular, he remembered the night she had told him of Ursulana, the bear heaven to which the constellation of the Great Bear pointed and where she was sure that her cub's spirit had gone. In the Cave Before Time, he had begun to think that there might be a refuge for the spirit of wolves as well. It now occurred to Faolan that perhaps there was a starry refuge for the spirits of caribou. The thought quickened his pace.
    A bold raven swooped down toward the caribou. He was still quite high, however. Faolan was incensed and leaped up and snatched the bird right out of the air. The five other ravens were so stunned that they stalled in their  flight and began to plummet toward the ground. Never had they seen a four-leg soar so high. Faolan had killed his raven instantly. The others recovered from their near fatal plunges and flew off. That was the last Faolan saw of them.
    ***
    It had been Faolan's intention to drag the body of the caribou to the high banks of