Dire Encounters: Man Meets Wolf

By Dolph C. Volker

24 Dec 2010

Dedicated to the Great Spirit who inspires me.

And to my dog who proved faithful beyond human

fidelity as he laid behind me as I wrote.

CONTENTS

Title Page

Dedication

Disclaimer

Illustrations

Publishing

Preface

Prologue

Chapter 1: A Dozen Years Pass

Chapter 2: Rediscovery

Chapter 3: One-Way Conversation

Chapter 4: Survivorman

Chapter 5: On The Mend

Chapter 6: Vision Quest

Chapter 7: The Journey Home

Chapter 8: Something’s Missing

Chapter 9:  24 Hours Ago

Chapter 10: Grave Discoveries

Chapter 11: The Den Of Man

Chapter 12: Deep Wounds

Chapter 13: Disillusionment Of Home

Chapter 14: A Father’s Scorn

Chapter 15: Hunger For Revenge

Chapter 16: Sense Of Pride

Chapter 17: The Final Ride

Chapter 18: Juvenile Behavior

Chapter 19: Retributions End

Chapter 20: Truth But Consequences

Chapter 21: Three Days To Redemption

Chapter 22: Words Of Discouragement

Chapter 23: Thirst For Blood

Chapter 24: Collapsing Of Barriers

Chapter 25: Voices Of Past And Future

Chapter 26: Two-Way Conversation

Chapter 27: Catch And Release

Chapter 28: Dire Consequences

Chapter 29: Badwill Hunting

Chapter 30: A Friend In Need A Friend Indeed

Chapter 31: Patching Old Wounds

Chapter 32: Signals Of Healing

Chapter 33: Know Thy Enemy

Chapter 34: Standing Sun

Chapter 35: Medicine Man

Chapter 36: Father Knows Best

Chapter 37: We Have A Problem

Chapter 38: Bearing Responsibilities

Chapter 39: The Runaway

Chapter 40: Return Of The Dead

Acknowledgments

ILLUSTRATIONS

Illustration  1

Illustration  2

Illustration  3

Illustration  4

DISCLAIMER

It must be written that although hallucinogenic drugs, herbs, and medicines are used in various rituals in many cultures, past and present, I do not condone the practice.  Dire Encounter books should not be construed as an endorsement.  It is my belief that The Great Spirit designed you as you are and to alter your mental state of mind by removing control away from your consciousness is detrimental to who you really are.  Be aware at all times without the use of mind-altering drugs.  Anything else is just artificial.

PUBLISHING

This book is a work of fiction.  Any resemblances to people, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are creations of the author’s imagination and written fictitiously.

PREFACE

It was a time prior to the last Ice Age where mammalian mega fauna and jumbo flora dominated the landscape.  Man was far from the dominant species on the planet.  Unknown centuries had passed since the last of the up-rights had been eradicated or banished to the fringes of the great desert.  History faded with time as well as the knowledge about the wars between the two factions; man and wolf.  Some of the written history remained in the form of legendary petroglyphs and pictographs located inside primitive caves; dotting sporadically along the base of the northern and southern ranges of the Ormod Mountains.  The writings recorded great battles between the species and even among themselves.  What remained of the cave writings revealed a stagnation of war and hatred between Dire Wolves and their enemy, the up-rights.

No wolf knew why they were enemies of man, only that the ancient inscriptions publicized the hostilities between the species.  Conflict was the only definable moment in their historical relationship.  Pack leadership and the elders reinforced the lessons taught by the ancient writings that were scribed on the walls of their caves.  Man was the enemy and there would be no reconciliation.

PROLOGUE

I see your son standing atop a great redwood, balanced between two heavy burdens of which are so profound that I fear leaning the wrong direction will lead to his destruction. These burdens lie on the precipice of this teetering redwood.  They will grow like a sickness; weighing him down while the others peel away from its core, eventually leading to an imbalance that will eat at his wounded soul.  When he tips the balance, there will be an awakening of which there will be no rest, relief, or means to lean back the other way.  I believe the slope he slides is the path that could lead to obliteration.

Galen sighs in distress.  You crush my hopes.  It’s bad enough he loses his mother at such a young age, now he feels so out of touch with everything.  The lies, the thefts, the brawls, and jealousy.  It’s destroying his character.  His special conditions do not help matters, especially among his peers.

Before drawing a puff from his ceremonial pipestone, the chief raises it above his head momentarily then points it towards the earth before inhaling.  The gratifying taste of tobacco, blended with a tinge of sweetgrass, sage, and willow bark tickles his palate as he blows the smoke toward the ground.  The billows roll in a wave across the sandy ground; ending their trail at the base of the fire before dissipating.  The crackle of fire was barely audible from the heavy patter of rain drops smacking against the buffalo hides covering the wickiup above their heads.  The chief listens to the torrent of rain as he struggles to tell his friend what he believes has become of his son.

I tell you only what is; as I believe, not what will be.  He lacks a degree of confidence in himself yet shows great potential.  But I fear what little self-assurance he possesses has become misdirected…, revealing itself in the form of violence.  He’s impatient, boastful, defensive, and becoming aggressive.  Anger is controlling his actions; vengeance his methods.  He’s losing direction.  We must work toward solution, or I fear we will lose him to the darkness.

What is the solution? Galen asks wholeheartedly.  I’ve tried everything I know.  I can heal wounds of the flesh but not ones of the heart.

As your mentor and friend, I sympathize deeply.  I wish I had all the answers, but some are beyond even me.

Taking another puff from his pipe, he blows a mushroom shaped billow of smoke above the hearth fire.  He watches as the smoke disperses; rising rapidly; caught inside the hot vapors of the fire as it makes its way through the vent shaft high above.

He needs direction…, possibly a mentor, chief tells him.  "In what form?  That I do not know, but whatever the influence, it should be someone or something that leads to the correct paths.  Teaching by example is the best way, but the pupil must listen in order to learn.  It is ultimately he who must decide which path to take and whether to heed or ignore sound advice.  Let us hope he finds the righteous paths; chosen for him by the Great Spirit, otherwise he could succumb to the darkness and become lost within it."

Galen hangs his head; wiping away some of the perspiration from his face and forehead.  Without forethought Galen blasphemes, I sometimes wonder if he is even listening.

Don’t lose faith; Galen.  There is always hope.  This young man needs reflection.  Just knowing what one has become can be enough to restore the hardest sole.

Something stirs just outside the entryway way of the wickiup.  Both men rise from their seats to investigate.  The darkened rainy night prevented any clear identity of the shadowy figure moving away in the distance.  It threaded its way through the underbrush and around the forest trees out of site.  Once reaching a comfortable distance away, the figure stops in front of a large pine tree.  It was Galen’s son; Alden, spying on his father’s discussion with the chief… about him.

The boy slaps both hands against the massive tree in frustration.  He leans hard against it, as if trying to move an immovable object.  He lowers his head between his outstretched arms and stares at the convoluted patterns of bark on the tree.  Rain collects and drips from his face, nose, and long black hair.  Ignoring the downpour, the young warrior remains still; considering his fate and future. Things weren’t turning out how he expected or even hoped.  A troubled youth, he realizes the need for reflection and change, but uncertain how to obtain it, or even if it would make a difference.

The Izzy-Kloth necklace he was wearing sways in the wind as he looks down.  Picking it up with one hand, he manipulates the crystalline figure dangling at the bottom; wondering about the significance of his totem. It was a specialized gift but only brought about negative thoughts and no memories.  The story of him as an infant and his mother was repeatedly told among the tribe over the years.  The two found themselves in a life and death struggle against Dire Wolves.  He was too young to remember anything about the encounter, and his mother disappeared during it.  How could the totem of the wolf that led to his mother’s disappearance benefit him in any way?  He struggles not ripping it from his neck and tossing it away.  Remembering what the chief said about pathways, Alden considers another way to prove himself to his father, the chief, and his tribe.

Alden hurriedly dashes through the rains to his father’s empty hut.  There wasn’t much time; his father could return at any moment.  He quickly grabs some provisions; some smoked meat, a water bag, a buffalo hide, some twined cordage, camel pegs, a spear, and one of his father’s special medicinal pouches.  With his long toothed tiger knives neatly tucked away on either side of his buckskin pants, he heads out the hut.  He was startled by the presence of his best friend standing outside; a puzzled look upon his face. 

What are you doing Alden? asks his friend.  He looks at the supplies he was carrying and thought it odd he would collect such items this late at night, besides gathering them in such a thunderous storm.

Are you going somewhere? he asks.  He looks broadside across the darkened wet night.  "In this weather?"

Alden trudges close to this friend in a challenging manner.  You didn’t see me!  Don’t tell anyone that you saw me.  If you’re my friend, you’ll not speak of this.

What are you doing? asks his friend; most curious.

Never mind, Alden tells him.  He sighs a heavy burden as he looks at the muddy ground.  I’ll be back before next sunset.  I must… do something first.  He looks up at his friend and sternly warns, Alone!

Befuddled, his friend stares in confusion as Alden disappears into the rainy darkness.  Alden was known to become over reactive to things but not like this.  Something was different this time.  Powerless to convince him otherwise, his friend does not pursue the matter any further.  He figured Alden would tell him the next day what he had been up too.

Convinced his friend would not snitch or try stopping him, Alden heads west; into the wilderness; leaving behind his family, tribe, and village. He would not return as promised.  His journey begins; rather than ends.

CHAPTER 1

a dozen years pass

Why do you always dilly dally Simeon?  Come On! Kahn insists.  I always have to wait for you.  It’s just a bush.  Now let’s keep movin.

Simeon’s ears rotate toward Kahn’s voice.  He continues investigating the carpet of needles on the ground and the row of raspberry bushes along their patrol route.

We’re almost there, Kahn pleads impatiently. Just a little further and then we can turn around and go back home.  There’s nothing out here.  There’s never anything out here!  Anyone can see or smell that!

My young pupil, Simeon responds.  He glances up into the canopy of the giant trees; looking for certain bird species.  Sometimes it is not what one can see, smell, or taste, but what one cannot see, smell, or taste that becomes important.

Further down the trail, Kahn impatiently waits for Simeon to catch up; displaying a frustrated posture.  Simeon’s continual lecturing and confusing comparisons grow tiresome to an easily jaded youth.  He lets out a whining sigh so Simeon could hear it.  Lowering his head toward the ground, Kahn begins blur staring at the thick mat of coast redwood pines needles and scattered cones.

Blur staring is where one looks at something, but your eyes focus beyond the point of the subject; a sort of daydream in blurred vision.  Normally one would do this when in deep thought or intensely contemplating something.  One’s eyes would relax to the point where you no longer use them; similar to a conscious lucid daydream.  Kahn had reached that point in boredom rather than contemplating anything extraordinary.  He tries one more time getting Simeon to hurry.  Lifting his head, he looks over at Simeon; reminding him of his role as his chosen protectorate.

You do realize you’re supposed to do what I say; right?  Kahn points out that fact rather than genuinely asking it.  Slightly apprehensive he adds, Father would not approve otherwise.  He cautiously waits Simeon’s response.

And I shall comply, Simeon answers assertively.  He pauses on that remark; letting that fact absorb then continues with some exceptions.

Granted it is safe, secure, and the timing is right.

An unobservant wolf is a blinded wolf, Simeon reiterates.

You completely overlooked, or should I say, over-sniffed the fact that a pair of tapirs have recently passed through here; progressing forward of us.  In addition, you have discounted the peculiarity of our current environment.    Simeon glances up.  The avian fauna usually inhabiting the lower strata of this forests have departed.  There has to be a logical reason for that.  Though my senses do not alert me to anything unscrupulous, there might be a predator near.

Kahn snaps back with an inflection of sarcasm in his voice.  Oh My! he whimpers.  Tapirs are here and the birds are missing!  Call out the Elders!  Immediately!  Where’s my father?  Howl for the Pack!  The Tapirs are coming!  The Tapirs are coming!

Not amused, Simeon corrects him.  "The proper grammatical response would be The tapirs have gone or left, not coming.  Additionally, that is not the kind of response I would expect from an up and coming prince of the pack.  The time soon approaches for your Lone Wolf Walkabout and you require preparation.  Your youthful stature and resistance to important training continue to impede your maturation into an efficient and experienced adult Dire Wolf.

Huh? asks Kahn confused; slanting his ears in various directions trying to comprehend what Simeon just said.

Realizing the need to relate on a more rudimentary level, Simeon responds with slight vexation, Stop being so Lazy!

I don’t want to sniff the bushes and gaze at branches, Kahn reminds him.  I want to take down prey and tear it apart.  Besides I’m ready for my walkabout.  I’m fast, agile, strong, mean, and most ferocious when faced with any adversity.  The best of our pack… mind you.  He prances around; demonstrating; simulating an attack.  I’ve defeated every pack mate in mock battles and wrestling matches.  No one can best me.

Realizing he may have boasted beyond reality, Kahn adjusts his pretentious boast.  Well, maybe not against you or father, and maybe some of the elders.  He quickly adds, But that’s only because I’ve got a ways to grow yet.  Wait until I get my full withers!  Then Watch Out!  Simply trained to Kill!

He continues in his self-indulgence.  Don’t I finish off most our kills in our training hunts?  How many has it been now?

Trying to count using head bobs and paw presses, Kahn struggles adding up the number.  Twenty-seven, twenty-eight, thirty, thirty…?  He grows frustrated.  Well, no matter.  You know my record.  It’s unsurpassed.  No past, present, or future pack member can chalk up to those numbers in what little time I’ve had.

Simeon catches up to where Kahn was waiting.  He sits down and considers how best to explain matters of survival in the lands where they live.

Taking on defenseless small western horses, camels, pronghorns, oreodonts, and tapirs will not prepare you for challenges against something much more prominent.  Take, for instance, the long tooth cat, a cave lion, a short-faced cave bear, or a baby mammoth protected by its mother. Those encounters will be formidable.  Though cumbersome at best, the big sloths are formidable opponents when prepared to defend themselves.  These adversaries require teamwork, planning, and coordination.  Remember, we must work together for a common cause; whatever that may be.

Lone individuals rarely succeed on their own.  It is one of the lessons you should learn on your Lone Wolf Walkabout.  Besides, the ability to kill is only part of what it takes to survive and thrive in this wilderness.

Seeing his pupil quickly losing interest, Simeon turns to the subject of his parents… the alphas.

"Your father and mother have granted you the best pedigree and training possible for hunting and self-defense, but there is more to survival than the ability to kill.  You must learn to use all of your specialized senses and something additional that comes from experience, called common sense.  But wisdom will be your greatest attribute if you allow it.  I am here to help provide that path.  It is entirely up to you to seize it… or not."

"Not," Kahn says quietly; under breath.

Pardon me? asks Simeon, not hearing him clearly.

Not... to change the subject Simeon, but can’t we walk and talk at the same time?  Trying to appear sensible, Kahn looks up through the canopies.  Secretly wanting to get back to the den to eat and rest, he makes a comment about their schedule.  It’s getting late.  Shouldn’t we be going home soon?

Observing the skies between the branches and the thick layers of green leafy needles of the giant redwoods, Simeon makes an observation of the angles of shadows forming against the trunks of the trees.  Sensing the changes in temperatures since departing, he estimates the fluctuations that occur in a given day and postulates the time it would have taken to rise to the current levels.  He then listens for certain nocturnal fauna but fails to detect ones normally aroused by the coming dusk.  Simeon makes his assessment.

I believe your sense of timing might be inaccurate.  It appears the sun's path is passing nearer midpoint rather than closer to the horizon as you suggest.

Sulking in exasperation, Kahn sighs and turns his attention to the grassy fields next to them.  He stares blankly across the meadow but doesn’t say anything.  Noticing the loss of attention and concentration from his young student, Simeon turns to more interactive exercises.

Much will come from experience.  Some of these encounters I will not be able to teach you.  These things must be learned through experience…on your own, such as will occur during your Lone-Wolf-Walkabout.

For now I will ask you a simple question.  Simeon turns to the open fields of tall sage grasses where Kahn was looking.  Over there, athwart of the plains.  What do you sense?  What do you see?

Having lost patience for any further discussion, Kahn answers back gruffly.  "Nothing!  Nothing that we haven’t seen every time we come this way Simeon."

This is important Kahn.  Awareness is our most esteemed advantage.  Simeon lifts his head in the air; taking in the surrounding sensations.  He peers over the meadows next to Kahn.

Look across the fields at the various grasses swaying in rhythm before you.  The greenswards stir due to an influence; the sages, deer grass, needle, and bunches of broom grass.  What do you suppose that influence is?  Why do they all move at once?

Kahn gives Simeon a demanding gaze.  We don’t have time for this Simeon!  Let’s just go!

Standing motionless, Simeon ignores his rebellious comments; closing his eyes for a moment.  The wind blew through the fringes of his long guard hairs around his mane, torso, and back.  Simeon’s resolve was clear; he wanted a thoughtful answer before proceeding.  Visibly bothered, Kahn lowers his head; expressing a disturbing whine.  He eventually raises his head and looks across the pasture of grasses.

He thinks briefly about the question, but the answer was not forthcoming.  He guesses; repeating himself.  Because… Because…  He quickly becomes frustrated; answering back with rebuke, I donno!  You said this would be simple.

Simeon smiles and simply states, The wind.  He cocks his head slightly to the right; as if thinking about it and adds, The more difficult question is what the origins of wind are.

Wind? Kahn responds perplexed.  That was a trick question!

But an interesting phenomenon, Simeon responds.  He continues looking over the field as he speaks with Kahn.

Have you ever wondered how something can move, yet seemingly nothing touch it? speaking of the flowing blades of grass that capture the essence of the wind; swaying in unison with it.

Kahn folds his ears backward in regret.  He knew another philosophical observation was coming that he’d have to endure.  To help avert another boring lesson, Kahn answers back in agitation.  I can make it move without the wind.  Just watch!

Crossly, Kahn jumps and stomps on the swards of grass stems in the field; rolling over them; bending them over while flipping his legs up in the air as he scratches himself at their expense.  He gets back up, shakes off the debris from his pitch black coat and tells Simeon, Never underestimate the power of me!  As powerful as the wind.

Trying to ignore Khan’s juvenile response, Simeon explains the lesson he wishes instilled in him.  Just because something is neither seen, nor heard, nor felt, does not mean it does not exist.  It is not the will of the grass that it moves, but the wind that compels it.

Simeon tries putting the lesson in perspective.  The wind itself is hidden, unseen, and silent up until the moment it contacts its target.  We as Dire Wolves must be like the wind; obscured from view until the last moment; silent in our steps, cautious, cunning, and unseen as a hunter and defender in a violent world.  We must always remain vigilant in everything you do.  Be aware before something else becomes aware of you.  I suggest we be like the wind, and then we shall maintain the advantage.

Are you finished yet? Kahn asks impatiently.  We just have a few more paces before reaching the base of the canyons and then we can go home.

There’s never anything interesting out here.  Let’s just get to our borders; pee then flee.  You can argue with wind way past nightfall for all I care, but only once we’ve gotten home.

Feeling the need to correct his pupil, Simeon amends Kahn’s brash description of their urination rituals.

"The urination practice you reference is correctly referred to as scent marking.  It is the primary purpose of our reconnaissance patrols and the reason there are few dangers on our borders.  If we did not reinforce our borders with a strong fresh scent, possible rival packs could encroach.  Our scents detour other kinds of predators from venturing too close as well.  Peace has governed our lands for as long as I can remember because of it."

Sulking, Kahn states simply, Let’s just hike our legs and go.  Can we already?

Trotting at a brisk pace, they travel to the edge of their eastern border; scent marking along the way.  They come across an old giant coast redwood tree and Simeon uses it to demonstrate further methods of territorial marking.

Stepping up to the massive tree, Simeon turns to Kahn.  Now observe.  He saddles up to the sides of the tree and begins rubbing the tail end of his rump and flanks around the foundation of the tree.

The glands at the base of our tails are not there simply to entertain yourself when sniffing young females.  As in everything, there is a greater purpose.

Simeon continues rubbing and scratching himself as he moves around the base of the wide girthed tree; effectively transferring the oils from his tail gland and loose hair from his coat upon the edges and furrows of the bark.

Not only does our fragrance serve as unique identifiers, but also serves as a scent mark; identifying our kind and pack to others; sharing ownership of whatever we touch.

When he reaches half way around the trunk, he abruptly ends his marking and seemed alarmed about something.  Raising his head and closing his mouth, Simeon became highly attentive; listening and looking to the east.  The winds had shifted; gusting down an old canyon that curled its way to a widening plain before reaching the vast forests that marked the end of their territory.

Ha!  You look ridiculous! Kahn mentions.  I wish there was a way I could…  He stops talking after noticing Simeon behaving oddly; seemingly gripped in a stunned state.  He instantly changes from a relaxed mood to one much more tense.

Simeon gingerly moves back around the tree and steps quietly to where Kahn was standing.  His tail was down and torso slightly crouched as he approached.  In a barely audible decree, he tells Kahn, Shishhh…  Remain still and quiet.

Kahn focuses on Simeon’s posturing; perking his ears and showing keen interest.  He had never seen Simeon so rigid or engrossed by something so fervently before.

What?  What is it?

Remain silent.  Be still and do not move.

Simeon turns around; looking back toward the tree line; fixated on an area beyond where the redwoods cease to grow.  A large open field existed; devoid of only the heartiest weeds and wildflowers.

What?  I don’t see anything, Kahn whimpers back.  He begins looking around and listening for any signs of the unusual; twisting his ears in all directions.  Everything seemed in order.  All the usual sounds coming from the forest were there.  The winds were picking up as they always did with the coming of the cold season.  That made distinguishing sounds much more difficult.

The needles of the great trees were heard blowing in the winds; creating shrilling noises.  Swaying to and fro, the creaking redwood branches were heard for miles.  Listening harder, he hears some smaller mammals and reptiles rustling in the undergrowth of the needle beds; piled high from recent shedding.  The occasional cone or branchlet could be heard dropping here and there.  The normal raptors and migrating birds were heard screeching high above the canopy.  Noticing nothing unusual, Kahn turns to his sense of smell.

Raising his nose at an upward angle, he begins sniffing the air for any abnormal scents.  With northerly winds mounting, Kahn found nothing out of the ordinary inside the currents.  Growing frustrated, his attitude changes.  Turning to Simeon, he demands an explanation.

What’s the matter?  I don’t sense anything! raising his tone.  Is this another one of your annoying tests?  The last one I spent forever looking for a camel bone that wasn’t there.  Remember how angry I got?  You don’t want a repeat of that.  Do ya?

Ignoring Kahn’s incessant rants, Simeon raised his stance; focusing his senses on the clearing about two hundred paces beyond the redwoods.  Keeping his mouth closed to muffle the sound of his breath, he continues listening in the direction of the field.  His ears twitch feverishly; adjusting to minute changes in direction of any unusual sounds.

His focus was on the clearing beyond the redwoods.  Confirming his concerns, faint sounds were heard of something being drug across the sandy soil.  He turns and looks at Kahn; speaking in a gentle tone.

There is something dragging or being drug across on the surface of the ground, just beyond the tree lines.  It is either a wounded animal towing behind an injured limb or predator dragging something already dead.

After further assessing the sounds coming from the clearing, Simeon hypothesizes the threat.  With what little I know and without further confirmation, I can only speculate.  From the sound of its dragging, I suspect it is the equivalent size of a peccary or tapir.  It could possibly be a long tooth cat dragging one it just killed.

Checking out his surroundings for a possible tactical withdrawal, Simeon considers his options.  Protecting Kahn was foremost on his mind but the threat needed identifying.  It could be something that threatens the entire pack.

With an insistent quality of his tone, Simeon stresses the need for Kahn to listen.  Remain here while I investigate.  Do not follow me.  The threat could be deadly.  Without hesitation, Simeon creeps away; using the thick forest tree trunks and hefty fern growth as cover.

With eyes widened, Kahn remained standing in the middle of their patrol trail.  News that something noteworthy was finally happening on their usually dull eastern patrol captivated him.  Nothing remarkable ever occurred east of their territory and is why Simeon was ordered to patrol there with Kahn.

Being the last in line of a blood lineage of potential pack leaders, Kahn was considered too young and valuable to risk dangerous encounters.  Patrol excursions were allowed in every direction but north for Kahn.  Patrols of the north were forbidden by order of the alphas.  The area was considered too dangerous due to an abundance of enemies.

Prides of lions followed migrating mammoths, camels, elk, and oreodonts in the plains to the north but more importantly, a hostile Dire Wolf pack purportedly lived further beyond… the Clarita’s.  Only certain elders and close elites of the alphas were allowed to patrol that area.  All other directions were deemed less hazardous.

Straining to focus on the sounds of the dragging animal, Kahn grew frustrated.  All he could discern from listening were the paw steps of Simeon; disappearing out of range.  It was moments later when his anxious nature peaks.

This is ridiculous!  Finally, something remarkable in a day of doldrums and I’m not part of it, Kahn whispers to himself.  I’m not sticking around here when all the actions ahead!  I’m missin Out!

Sneakily, Kahn begins following Simeon; his body tucked close to the ground; keeping a low profile; remembering the stalking training he had been practicing.  His muscular shoulders poked up and down as he steps forward; picking up the pace in order to catch up to Simeon.  Noticing Kahn following him, Simeon grew concerned.  They were too close to the source of the commotion for Simeon to express his disappointment in him.  By the time Kahn catches up, it was too late to turn around and not alert whatever it was in the fields.

Noticeably troubled by Kahn’s continual renegade manner, Simeon initially expresses his frustration by gestures alone.  It was a source of great concern and frustration, but the situation was too dangerous to provide proper counseling.  With a potential hostile threat lying just paces ahead, Kahn was already ambling right behind Simeon.  They both were too close to the threat to make a scene.  The threat ahead may already have noticed them.

Simeon turns to Kahn; speaking softly.  I told you to remain behind!  Why must you never listen?  There was a hint of anger in his voice, but only out of concern for his pupil.  Simeon’s primary role as protectorate of Kahn was keeping him safe.  Though having the alphas' lineage flowing through his veins, he was not beta male yet.  His maturation and conformity to the will of his father needed to be met first.  Succeeding in the Lone Wolf Walkabout would be his first test.  To reach such lofty aspirations, he needed support and guidance from his parents, the elders, and especially Simeon; his sole protectorate.

Just as softly Kahn replies, Now that might make you disappointed in me.  Now wouldn’t it!  If I’m not consistent, then I wouldn’t be predictable.

Simeon’s constant exclusion of him from stimulating encounters had Kahn becoming defensive.  He justifies his reckless actions.

You should be satisfied working with the likes of me.  You could plan ahead knowing I won’t listen.

Thrilled to be on the hunt again, Kahn steps closer to Simeon; seeking approval to investigate whatever was ahead.  If stalking something ended up in a skirmish or kill, then that was exactly what Kahn felt he needed to arrest his boredom.  He asks Simeon, Anyway, I’m here now so no sense in arguing about it.  Let’s go confront this misfortunate one… or two and teach em a lesson about territory.

What is it… anyway?  By the way? asks Kahn.

That remains an unknown, Simeon replies; discouraged by Kahn’s lack of discipline.  Considering the impasse in which they found themselves, Simeon peers to his right.

Then what are we waiting for?  Let’s find out!

Realizing it would be a mistake not investigating the disturbance, Simeon decides carrying forth with the reconnaissance; taking Kahn with him.  It was important enough to discover what was scouring near their border, but he would have strict guidelines for Kahn to follow in doing so.

With current breezes blowing from the fields, the advantage was with them for now but soon that would change.  The canyon winds were beginning to shift.  If they turned back now, they might never know what the threat was.  Soon the advantage would swing in the favor of that threat as the changing winds blew their scent in the direction of the animal.  Whatever it was in the fields would learn of their presence but the wolves would never know what it was.  There was no better choice to make.  They must advance.

I must surmise, Simeon reckons.  A curious wolf is an empowered wolf.

Alright, you may shadow me as we investigate.  But we must act quickly for our opportunity of advantage slips as we speak.  Simeon lifts his head into the air; sniffing for scents and changes in the winds.  He turns to Kahn for final instructions.

Remain behind me at all times.  Follow my paw steps exactly.  Produce no audible sounds which mean no speaking, whimpering, whining, or barking.  Observe my body language carefully; masking it exactly.  Make no sudden movements of your own.  If you deviate from my instructions, then we are breaking off this stalking and going home.

Simeon knew he could not break off the reconnaissance once started.  If the animal ahead were an experienced predator, retreating would give a false sense of weakness, and it might take advantage of that.  If it were one of the long toothed cats, it could become a deadly engagement.

Considering the encounter could develop into a dangerous confrontation, threatening to call off the stalking was the only way to get Kahn to listen.  Not wishing to lie, the falsehood was designed to protect him.

Taking his role as protectorate genuinely, Simeon considered his life forfeit in the defense of Kahn.  If the situation should arise, Simeon will face the threat alone; luring it to him; providing an opportunity for Kahn to retreat.

Ok ok.  I’m with you.  Let’s just go, Kahn says anxiously.

Due to the density of the forest, they were unable to get a visual confirmation of the dragging animal in the distance.  They could only hear it.  They needed to get dangerously close to it in order to see it and discover its identity.  Breezes from its wake would contain the identity of the animal.

The winds were blowing perpendicularly to the dragging animal.  Simeon follows the sounds it made; flanking it until he could reach the scent waft trail coming from it.  They were close to the clearing but shifted their approach in order to remain out of sight.  Positioning themselves is such a way had both advantages and disadvantages.  It meant the animal could not see them either.

They maneuver around the giant tree trunks; following the winds and searching for the animal’s scent.  Simeon signals to Kahn using his body posture to remain close and silent.  They were near.

Thick layers of redwood needles and mossy turf aided in their stealthy approach; both carefully avoiding stepping on any cones or loose dry twigs.  Reaching the edge of the open field, Simeon uses a great fallen redwood tree for concealment.  Hidden behind the fallen tree, both enter the aerated effervesce of the animals scent trail.  The animal would be revealed.  They hunker low to the ground; gathering intelligence of the being.

Uncertainty was not something Simeon was used to, but he became increasingly mystified by what his senses were telling him.  A mass assortment of complex and confusing scents whirled around; some recognizable; some faintly so, but others entirely foreign.  He kept sniffing the air around him; trying to come to grips with his confusion.  His nose informed him of the presence of a myriad of objects yet his mind could not grasp the concept of what he sensed, especially since they were coming from a single source.

Most unusual were the multitude of dissimilar smells coming from the clearing.  The fact they were all concentrated in a small tract inside the waft trail was uncommon.  Simeon clearly identifies a recently tapir kill.  Along with the tapir were a host of other scents, detecting tinges of buffalo, weasel, hare, teratorn, mammoth, deer, camel, and dry rotting intestines.  A distant smell of a giant ground sloth indicated one had been nearby.

Many of the scents were old; faded as if dead but not decayed; somehow preserved against nature’s absorption.  Most disturbing was a scent of something completely unrecognizable; something new; something never before encountered.  That was what concerned him the most.  For the first time in his life, Simeon showed signs of fear; the fear of the unknown.

His training and knowledge in both ancient studies and present day experiences had been thorough.  His intense preparations were intended to prepare him as protectorate for the alpha’s prodigy successor; Prince Kahn.  But nothing prepared him for the encounter that was to come.

CHAPTER 2

rediscovery

Kahn also smelled the assortment of scents and became similarly confused, but trusting his protectorate, he follows his lead.  Both took stances behind the redwood; hidden from view as they looked into the open field.  Raising his head over the top, Simeon gazes into the clearing.  Kahn does the same.

What they saw was more astounding than the smells coming from it.  The tapir was drug by an animal they had never seen before.  The animal’s size was less than substantial; much smaller than the tapir itself.  The beast struggled hauling the carcass; straining so hard that it rose to its forelimbs for balance, yet somehow was dragging the tapir without using its mouth.  The tapir was sprawled out onto a collection of tree limbs.  Attached to the limbs was a line of some sort; grasped by the forepaws of the animal.  With curiosity peaking and eyes dilating, both had their attention entirely affixed at the bizarre site.

The animal had an unusual form.  Its head was covered in flowing black fur that spiraled downward, but a hairless face.  Its torso was covered with thick black wooly coat.  Its legs were covered with similarly dark hair.  It had four limbs like other predators, but its forepaws appeared barren of hair.  An odd extension hung from around its neck and lay bulging along one side of its body; seemingly unconnected as it dangled loosely and moved independently.  The extension was also covered in fur but of a different color and texture.  Another distended section of him surrounded his waist; a circular strap with boney protrusions coming from both sides of him.  They were possibly horns but positioned in the most inappropriate place.

As the animal walked in the sunlight, much of its body displayed an occasional flicker of shiny light; reflecting back.  From its head to its paws, parts of the animal glistened in the sun.

Once it finished towing the tapir to the center of the field, it remained in an upright posture rather than supporting itself using all fours.  Similar to the giant sloths, this animal reached with its forelimbs but preferred standing on its hind limbs.

It dropped the line it held and approached the tapir.  With its left forepaw, it reaches into its specialized appendage on its side; producing what looked like a large tooth.  Kneeling down in front of the kill, it began biting into it with its paws and solitary large tooth.  It cut it open and began removing the innards of the deceased animal.  This process went on for some time and gave the two wolves a chance to ascertain what they were witnessing.

One thing discernible from their observation was that the animal was another predator.  The tapir had been recently killed, indicated by the fresh scent of its blood trail.  It was not scavenged, meaning this predator was hunting inside Gamma Dire Wolf Pack territory, and by decree, required dealing with.  Though it was predating on the very edge of their territory, clashes and boundary losses are the result of disregarding such encroachments.  The main problem was how to deal with it since its identity and degree of threat was unknown.  Nothing in recent history could explain this unusual predator.

Kneeling down behind the redwood log, Simeon showed a puzzled look; uncertain what to do or say.  Looking past Kahn, his eyes drift to the right in deep thought.

Alright Simeon, now you’ve gotten a good look and smell of it.  What is it?  What’s it doing?  And more importantly, what are we gonna to do about it?

Simeon pauses a long time before replying.  With a troubled tone, he replies, I still do not know.  He glances the animals way again; failing to categorize it.

It is undoubtedly a predator and probably hunted this tapir.

That made Kahn mad.  Whatever it was, it was stealing food from the pack.  This was their territory and no predator invades and takes from them without serious repercussions.

In Our Territory?  What are we waiting for!  Let’s go kill it!

Attempting to diffuse Kahn’s growing eagerness for a fight, Simeon tries using some common sense.  Knowing who and what your adversary is, grants you the advantage.  Rushing into battle without knowledge and planning results in reckless defeat.

Kahn disagreed.  It needs to be taught a lesson for entering Gamma pack territory and killed Simeon!  Not over analyzing it.  We can’t just let this stand.  We need to attack Now! Before it gets too comfy on our lands.

We have the advantage right now.  It has not sensed our presence; yet, Simeon points out.  Let us plan a logical approach forward.  We need to study it further; assess its methods, abilities, and reasoning.  Simeon peers over the log to get another look then withdrawals backdown.  It seems to be alone. My assessment is we could easily out run it.  It appears smaller in stature, and should be unable to escape if pursued; preferring bipedal mobility over quadrupedal.

Then what are we waiting for?  Let’s go get it! demands Kahn.

Yet! Simeon interrupts.  Despite its frail form, it appears to have successfully slain an adult tapir.  Something even we find difficult to do independently.

Not me.  I could, argues Kahn.  If you’d given me a chance and not interfered with my hunts every time.

An injured wolf does not hunt, Simeon points out.  We do things together to ensure safety and success.  You know this.

Feeling rebuked and beginning to brood, Kahn doesn’t respond.  The idea that this intruding animal could have killed a tapir by himself bothered him.  His feelings were exasperated by the fact the animal invaded their territory and was still there.

This animal could be dangerous, Simeon suggests.  We need to consider this and weigh the risks.   

Concentrating on his knowledge and memory from training sessions taught him by the elders, Simeon thinks.  He remembers the sessions of ancient history, the rise and fall of Dire Wolves; the great paintings that adorn the halls and walls of their caves and dens; the history of lost and won battles.  Many of the pictographs and petroglyphs were missing, either damaged from ground motion, aged by time, destroyed or removed by unknown causes.

Enough was written to ascertain the account of Dire Wolf history but little else.  Then a vivid notion came to light in Simeon’s mind; a sudden revelation.  Among the pictographs in their caves were images of standing erect beings.  Simeon remembers seeing the drawings and listening to the stories the elders warned about.  Enemy beasts of the distant past.  They were drawn in bellicose postures next to wolves and other beasts of prey.

Simeon grew exceedingly excited; turning to Kahn and shouting, The Glyphs!  I know now what it is!

Simeon? Kahn says with a condescending tone.  Don’t withhold important information when you have it.  Just spit it out!

It is an up-right! he mentions with delight.

Looking puzzled, Kahn asks, Up-right?

Of Course, Simeon confidently responds.  "Referred simply to as a man.  I am certain of it!"

Cocking his head to the left, Kahn began repeating the word to himself in an attempt to find some correlation.  Man… man... man? he repeats.  Oh, that Man!  The ancient glyphs man!  Our ageless enemy… Man!  The one that the glyphs recorded as the destructor, the deceiver, the imprisoner, the killer of the Dire Wolves… Man!

The hatred Kahn felt was blinded by all other emotions or considerations at that moment.

Yes my father told me all about them, Kahn answers in a quarrelsome voice.  How they attempted to destroy us as a species.  That they were the greatest enemy know to us.

Centuries had passed since the great glyphs recorded the stories.  Man was the enemy.  Great battles had been won and lost between them.  Lessons from his father and mother had instilled hatred for this ancient predator and enemy.  It was written that Dire Wolves went on the offensive; attacking and exterminating man from their lands.

His father’s teachings were only a history lesson.  Man was no more since the purge.  Kahn began questioning his mentor’s conclusion.

Wait... Something’s not right here.  Kahn’s ears flop back and forth as he shakes his head; trying to make sense of it.  Man is supposed to be extinct.  This can’t be an up-right.  Kahn looks to Simeon for confirmation.

Simeon raises his head above the fallen redwood once again.  The animal was hunched over the dead tapir; still cutting into it.  Simeon examines its features carefully as it disembowels the tapir.  The animal remained unaware of their presence.  The paintings on the great walls of their home and this figure before them matched exactly.  It was an up-right or man as they called themselves.  The same ones pictured on the walls of their caves depicting them incarcerating and killing Dire Wolves.

Simeon lowers himself down behind the large trunk; expressing some delight.  Apparently, one escaped extermination.

Confused how Simeon could express satisfaction over such a shocking discovery, Kahn stares back in disbelief.  His mood soon festers; particularly knowing a man was just paces away; invading their turf once again and stealing.  It was time for action.

Well, I’ll correct that lil oversight! announces Kahn.  Because I’m gonna exterminate it.  It won’t get away with its insolence!  Kahn stood up from his protected stance behind the redwood and began climbing over the log.

Kahn!  No!  Wait! Simeon implores.

Patience was not a virtue Kahn was familiar with, but reluctantly listens to his protectorate.  He unenthusiastically stops; keeping his two front paws clinging to the fallen redwood.

Let us carefully consider this.  We should observe it first; learn more about it.  This is the first chance in many generations to observe our ancient enemy.

Knowing some basic facts about biology, Simeon knew that centuries had passed since the last man was seen.  This individual could not have survived centuries.  There were bound to be others; possibly reproductive pairs; potentially brooding with man-pups.

Besides, killing it might result in more of them returning… if it is not alone.

Duly noted Simeon, but not enough to stop me.  If nothing else, this man-beast must be taught a lesson; a warning to others if there are anymore.

The message being sent…? asks Kahn; knowing his own answer.  Don’t come here!  A dead man-beast lying on the outskirts of Gamma pack territory should fix that.

Confidently clambering over the redwood, Kahn hops over and focuses his attention on the man; preparing to charge after him.  Simeon no longer had control over the situation and steps over the log; standing next to him.  No matter the situation, his responsibility was to protect the young prince.  He would have to back him up regardless of how he felt about the circumstances.

With focused eyes gazed upon his quarry, he tells Simeon, Now you can come with me and help take down this brute or remain here and sulk about it.

Ominously, Simeon reluctantly agrees.  Though he was much older, Simeon was subordinate to Kahn in rank.

I go where you go, regardless of the event or consequences.  But I firmly believe you are making a mistake.

Consequences?  Mistake?  How about a hero’s welcome when we get home.  Wait until father hears about this!  This could catapult me directly to beta status without all the fuss and wait.

On deaf ears, Simeon mentions, A wise wolf never overestimates his opponent.

By now the man was finishing up his preparation and cuts of meat.  He was sprinkling some white powdery substance over the slices and wrapping them in skin; tying them up with strands of stringy intestines from the animal.  He stood up and turns opposite of where the wolves were; pointing toward the canyon basin that led to the riparian wetlands higher up.  He cupped one of his paws to his mouth and blew an ear-piercing shrieking whistling sound.  It startled both wolves causing them to jump in their skin from their stunned reflexes.  It temporarily halts Kahn’s decision to attack.

The man spoke in an unrecognizable language; yelling out, SHASTA!  WόLA!  WόLA SHASTA!  COME HERE!  COME HERE GIRL!  TIØEK!  The man placed his fingers in his mouth once again and produced the same sharp ear piercing whistle.

Some moments pass as the man appears to wait for something.  Both Simeon and Kahn were mesmerized.  From across the other side of the fields came a horrific crashing sound from inside the undergrowth.  About four hundred paces from where the man stood, an enormous beast emerges from behind thick vegetative brush.  It was a massive giant sloth; lumbering its way in a clumsy fashion; knuckle walking its way toward the man.

Both wolves had seen sloths before; even killing some in pack attacks, but never one this peculiar.  Superfluous skin embellished all sides of its body.  Extra strands of skin flowed from the animal like vines.  Additional layers of skin hugged its hide like bark on a tree.  Discolored and loosened bits adorned its entire body.  Some skin hung from its face and more dripped in lines down its long neck, while others shrouded its shoulders, chest, and underbelly; wrapping completely around it.

On its back was a larger assemblage of fur fashioned between its shoulders; raised in relief.  A single thickened projection protruded from the top of its shoulders near the base of its neck; jutting upward from its spine like a rhino’s horn.  Suspended down its ribs hung more vines attached to large bulky pouches; distending outward on both sides.  Circular cupped loops dangled loosely near the belly and sides of the beast; rocking back and forth as it strode.  To these wolves, the extra hide conjoined to this animal captivated their attention like no other.  Curiosity and confusion gripped both wolves as they stared at the extraordinary spectacle.

The sloth walked right up to the man; unafraid.  The comparison in size between the two was compelling.  The man appeared miniscule standing next to it.  Even standing on all fours, the giant sloth towered above the man like a new born wolf pup to its mother.  The wolves thought the sloth ignorant; walking right up to a dangerous predator.  Both were curious how this would end.  A battle between a single man and a giant sloth would be some contest.  The man stood his ground; reaching into a specialized appendage on its side; pulling something out.

This is it, whispers Kahn.  He’s going to kill it with... with... whatever’s in its brood pouch.  Or die gettin crushed by the hulking monsters massive paws and claws.

The sloth lowered its long neck down to the man’s hands; aligning its large mouth over it; appearing to feed.  They could see its massive jaws moving up and down as it chewed.  The man began stroking the sides of its neck and head.  Barely audible sounds and voices could be heard coming from them both.  The man reaches down to the ground and picks up what looked like several long pointy sticks and another larger curved one; placing them inside the pouches of the animal.  Reaching up toward its massive head, the man grasps at the animals cheek vines; holding it down while touching the animal.

Astonishment was the order of this day.  The bizarre accounts of the man’s activities allow a lax of awareness of the wolves as they both forgot their training.  Engrossed by the curious display before them, they were unaware of the changing direction of the winds.  The surge of currents now blew softly from behind them; carrying with it minute particles of their scent over the fields; finding its way into the chasms of the giant sloth’s nostrils.

Without any regard to the man below,