Watch Wolf

clan and had no desire to go back into MacHeath territory.
    The MacHeath Obea was a white wolf named Airmead. This was a cruel name, for in the Old Wolf language, it meant “barren.” Of course all Obeas were barren, but only the MacHeaths would choose to take away whatever the Obea’s real name was to call her after her pathetic condition. The MacHeaths had a malevolent instinct that flowed through their blood like a treacherous current. They fed off it like vampire bats drink blood from animals, leaving just enough to ensure that the animals live and the bat can come back for more. MacHeaths who did not feed off cruelty either grew weak and died or left for one of two places — west to the Outermost to live with the savage outclanners, or far to the northeast to the MacNamara clan. No, Edme had no desire to see any of the MacHeaths. She was already too close to their territory for comfort.
    As she wound her way down and across the steep slopes of the ridge, Edme tried to imagine how a little one-eyed pup could have made her way down the precipitous slope and back to her clan. They said that all
malcadhs
who survived had an instinct that led them back to their clan’s territory. But Edme found it hard to believe. Her urge had always been to put as much distance as possible between herself and her clan.
    She was still occupied with these thoughts when she reached the bottom of the ridge, and a pair of yearlings, Ingliss and Kyran, from the chieftain’s pack of the MacHeath clan appeared. She felt a twitch deep in her marrow. These two young females had particularly enjoyed abusing her when she was a gnaw wolf. They knew exactly where to attack to cause her the most fear as well as the most pain, and took pleasure in biting her as close as they could to her one good eye. She instinctively lowered her tail and began to sink into a submission posture, but suddenly stopped.
I don’t need todo this anymore. I am not a gnaw wolf. I am a member of the Watch. If anything, they should submit to me.
Edme’s hackles raised, she shoved her ears forward, and her single eye glinted bright green.
    “Well, you’ve certainly learned quickly!” Ingliss, the larger of the two, said.
    “Yes, but doesn’t a one-eyed wolf look funny with her hackles up?” Kyran added nastily. Kyran always took her cues from Ingliss. They worked as a tag team of abuse.
    “You know, of course, you don’t deserve to go to the Ring,” Ingliss said. Edme tilted her head. She wouldn’t deign to answer them and walked on. But they followed her, one on either side, pressing close.
    “Get away!” Edme yipped. “You can’t do this to me anymore, either with words or bites.”
    “Oh, yes, that’s true,” Ingliss said brightly. “Indeed we should never have abused you. Seeing as you were never a true gnaw wolf.”
    This stopped Edme. “Are you
cag mag?
What are you talking about?”
    “Wouldn’t you like to know?” Ingliss teased. She turned to Kyran. “Should we tell her?”
    “I suppose so,” Kyran replied casually, as if she had better things on her mind.
    “Dear Edme, we have come to apologize for our behavior,” Ingliss said. Edme’s head swiveled between the two wolves.
    Edme tried desperately to maintain a cool, disinterested demeanor. “An apology is not necessary, really. Now on your way. I must get to the Ring and the Watch.”
    “I wouldn’t rush if I were you,” Kyran said.
    “No, no, definitely not. For what will they say when they discover you were not born a
malcadh,
but made one!”
    “What are you talking about?” Edme said, and she bared her teeth. Never had such a small wolf seemed so fierce.
    The two yearlings cowered. “He did it to you, the chieftain Dunbar MacHeath!” Kyran blurted.
    “Did what?”
    “Tore out your eye!” Ingliss said.
    “You mean … you mean …” Edme’s jaw dropped open. It was as if she was searching for the actual words. “I wasn’t born this way?”
    “Not at all,” the two wolves said at once, regaining their composure. A smirk crawled across Ingliss’s face. “We heard it whispered in the
gadderheal.
So you see, you are not a true gnaw wolf,” Ingliss said.
    “You’re a fake,” Kyran offered. “They’ll reject you when they find out.”
    “They sense these things,” Ingliss said.
    “What if I tell them?” Edme said, turning around and heading straight into the heart of MacHeath territory.
    “Tell them? Tell who? Where are you going, Edme?”
    “To