Wolves of the Beyond 02 - Shadow Wolf

spotted near Blue Rock territory in the last of the hunger moons. This time, Alastrine and Stellan had been sent from the Carreg Gaer to accompany Mhairie. She was being observed carefully. She had to perform flawlessly, and if that cursed gnaw wolf acted up, she would personally sink her teeth into the most tender part of his muzzle and enjoy every second of it.
    They were chasing the herd through a region known as the Yellow Springs. A signal had been passed for the crimping maneuver to commence. They were going to turn the herd slightly and then split it. This was a risky maneuver, but with a herd this large, they had little choice. There was no way to spot the weak ones, who stayed in the middle of the herd as long as possible. Faolan could see Stellan close to Mhairie, passing signals to her. Within seconds, Mhairie had spotted a cailleach . Now Faolan’s job was to close in and pick up any urine or scat scents that did not seem healthy.
    What a miserable task I have, he thought as he saw Mhairie pressing forward toward the cailleach , then suddenly slowing her pace to a casual lope as if she had lost interest. The red deer would slow down a bit, but soon Mhairie would be back with Stellan and another outflanker.
    It was a strategy Faolan had used when he brought down a caribou alone a year before. Except there had been no captain passing signals, no outflankers to help press the crimp. He had done it all by himself.
    It was the endgame now. They had the old cailleach surrounded. She stood looking bewildered as blood spurted from wounds on her haunches. These wounds were enoughto bring her to a stop, but not to kill her. For that, they had to get to her neck and the vital life-pumping artery. Mhairie and the other outflankers hung back. Their job was done. Some of the largest males encircled the cailleach and began to charge her in relays, but she reared up and struck one with her hooves.
    “The nerve!” muttered Heep.
    “Yes, magnificent!” It was a windy gust from the Whistler’s crooked throat.
    The Whistler had spoken the thought that was in Faolan’s own head. How had this old female found the strength of spirit to rise up and strike out at these four immense wolves?
    “It’s magnificent. The cailleach has a wonderful spirit,” the Whistler continued.
    “May it flee her body soon so as not to fatigue our own magnificent superiors, the captain, and the sublieutenants,” Heep said loudly.
    The Whistler gave Heep a withering look. “Oh, just go stick your face in some musk ox scat!”
    Faolan was about to laugh but was shocked when Heep sank to his knees in front of the Whistler.
    “Oh, dear Whistler, I humbly beg your pardon.” His pointy nostrils were expanding and contracting nervouslywhile he ground the side of his face into the dirt. “I would never propose to elevate myself above this great and dignified beast who is dying to provide life for our exalted superiors. If I have given offense, I most humbly beg your forgiveness. For it is only through the rich meat of this noble deer that our leaders, our great and heroic chieftains, and our glorious packs will prosper.”
    But the Whistler had wandered off to have a closer view of the moment when the red deer’s life would end.
    Faolan stood transfixed by Heep’s display. Despite the extravagant apology, there was something horribly wrong in what he was doing. He does not mean to give offense? Faolan wondered. And yet Heep did give offense in some strange way. It seemed like a perversion of lochinvyrr . In lochinvyrr , words were never spoken aloud. Thanks should be expressed simply—silently—and with profound feeling, so as not to lessen the value of the life sacrificed.
    Faolan began to walk away toward the circle of wolves that surrounded the red deer. Everyone had fallen silent now. There was no barking nor joyful yips, just a deep and respectful quiet. The captain had sunk to his knees in a posture of complete submission. He looked directly into the eyes of the dying animal, for there could be only truth at this moment. When the lochinvyrr was complete,he rose up and, without uttering a word, tore into the deer’s belly to begin the sharing out of the meat.
    Faolan stood in the shadows of the sparse birch grove and watched the division of the meat. The first to eat were the leaders of the pack, second came the captains of the byrrgis , including the outflankers. Mhairie was allowed to go first, for she had been important in