"I promise to do my best." To make my mother proud. I just hoped I hadn't failed her already.

"I could never ask for more," a soft voice said back.

My eyes focused on the dark wolf and her grinning muzzle. I hadn't meant to speak the words aloud, but Mist's act of kindness deserved my promise all the same.

I'd been so distracted by what could be and what had been, that I couldn't see what was right in front of my nose, now.

The way Mist led her pack, it wasn't like an alpha. Her tongue was never harsh, her eyes were never arrogant. I stared right into her heart through the green-ringed threshold. Any trace of the former coldness had crumbled in the moonlight. It glowed brightly in her smile, kind and loving. She was a mother.

"There are still a couple things we need to do to make it official."

I swallowed, hoping whatever it was wouldn't be hard or painful. Mist merely tilted her nose to the sky.

"It's a full moon. The perfect night for an initiation." She lowered her gaze to me. "A vow of loyalty is all I require, but first, I think we'd all like something to call you."

A name. She wanted me to pick a name. I hadn't known what it was when we met, but now, the memories from this morning, of my mother's story, drifted through my mind. I didn't know how I felt about it, but maybe it would grow on me.

I took a deep breath. "Drizzle," I said. "That's my name."

"Drizzle it is." The corner of her lip curled upward in a smile.

I heard a snort from beside me, but I didn't bother turning to the muzzle that uttered it. It only stoked the flame––or perhaps, the rain. It was my name, whether or not he liked it. And it meant there was one less thing he could use against me.

"Do you, Drizzle, promise to be loyal to your pack?"

My eyes snapped back to the alpha. I hadn't expected it to start so suddenly. It was a simple question, yet my stomach churned with the pressure. I couldn't sound stupid, scared, or hesitant, because every gaze in the clearing had drifted toward me.

"Yes," I said, expelling all my worries in a single breath.

"Do you swear to do everything in your own ability to help your pack?"

So there was more. And this one, it was a little deeper. I didn't know how much I could ever help this pack, and noticed the emphasis on the word as they left her muzzle. She understood my shortcomings––but what if I never got used to my injury? If I ended up as useless as I was now, would I let her down?

I swallowed the bile before I spoke, hoping the stench of worry wasn't too strong on my pelt. "Yes."

Mist nodded. "And finally, will you always treat these wolves as your own blood? To protect your family with your life, for as long as you're with us?"

Family. There was that word again. Were they really a family, just a mother, her pups and another, lone wolf? And then there was me, the most alone of them all.

I breathed in the sweet, milky scent of my mother. My siblings yipped all around me, and my heart raced with a thumping joy. Then it flashed to my sister, bloodied and torn, giving her life for us. Tears wet my cheeks.

Blinking them away, I met the alpha's eyes. I welcomed the idea of a new family, I just wasn't sure where to start.

"Yes." The word left my muzzle with confidence, though my resolve only trembled inside.

Mist cocked her head once more, and joy glowed in her eyes. "Let Luna and her stars bear witness to your oath," she said, her voice firm and resolute. "I'm happy to welcome you to our pack."

Two yelps of joy rang out beside me, and I was surprised to hear Cloud's high-pitched tone. It warmed my heart just a little, and the swirling in my stomach settled. I was part of a pack, something I'd never expected when I'd woken up broken and lost. Now, I had a little less to worry about.

I had a vow of true loyalty to keep, and I only hoped I wouldn't disappoint my new family. I lowered my head to my leader. "Thank you, Alpha."

She laughed. "One more thing." Her grin grew even wider. "I have a name, just like everyone else. I'd prefer you use it."

Her smile spread to my muzzle. "Yes, Mist."

Finally, the dark she-wolf reached down to eat, and the rest of us quickly filled our bellies. I licked my chops and sank my teeth into the long-anticipated meal. Something about the small rabbits tasted extra sweet, like a burst of pollen in the spring. A new beginning.

As I swallowed the last, savory bone and cleaned the blood from my muzzle, I glanced up at Mist. She didn't dismiss us, instead her eyes narrowed with mischief.

"Now comes the fun part." She strode to the crescent of wolves sitting opposite of her and took a seat at my side. She used her muzzle to urge Cloud closer, and every wolf shifted places to form a ring, connected by invisible lines like a constellation. Our moon was full, just as the one above us.

My questioning gaze lingered between Cloud and Spruce, the two wolves who faced me. I searched their muzzles for some kind of hint to what came next. The pup kept his expression vacant, unwilling to meet my eyes. While the she-wolf, her excited visage glowed in the starlight. Her smile spoke more than any words, meekly glancing in my direction. Wait and see.

A deep tone pierced the air beside me, and Mist spoke to the sky in a howl. Her voice was low and soulful, her cry calling out with a story. It told of a wolf with a lot in her heart, as a mother, as a leader. She was strong, but there was a certain dissonance that cracked the song in two. I recognized the aching in her heart: a wolf still healing.

Cloud's voice joined in next, her higher pitch pairing well with the dark wolf's bellow, and it formed an alluring harmony in the twinkling expanse of midnight. Both joyous and sad, her voice felt distant and incomplete, like something was missing. Through it all, I heard that muttered "us" that made me shiver.

Spruce's annoyed howl rose next. It was almost as deep and strong as his mother's, but growled with displeasure. His voice lacked any emotion besides the obvious, pouring from his chest in a loud and long-winded attempt to cover up anything fragile. Remembering Pine's words, I knew the hurt was there, deep within his stubborn hide.

The arcing whine of his sister was the last to fill my ears. Pine's voice was more true to her youth. It bore every emotion she held without restraint. There was a pitched excitement that welcomed me into their pack with enthusiasm. Then there was her curiosity, a curled woof every now and then that told of her yearning for a future filled with change. Some were for the better, and others for worse.

Her howl never trembled with regret or pain like the others––only determination that everything would be just fine.

Together, their howls formed a perfect symphony. It reached higher than the trees, past the peaks of the mountains, telling all of Luna's domain about the wolves that called this place home. They were weak, they let emotions guide them, and they were the sorriest excuse for a pack. But that was exactly what made them strong. They were a family.

I lifted my muzzle to the sky, parting my lips to utter the final, sharp howl of their song. My voice raised with a single cry.

It grew louder, filling my ears with a piercing tone that squeezed my eyes shut. It dug into my brain with fiery claws, and tears welled in my eyes. There was so much pain.

I shook my head hard, rattling the sound out of my flattened ears. The voice grew distant, muffled through the pounding heart in my chest.

Everything was dark.

My ears perked as the howl started up again. This time, it was familiar, wrapping a warm tail around my heart. It urged me closer.

A trickle of light caught my eye at the other end of the narrow tunnel.

I uncurled myself in the dirt, the soil crunching beneath my paws. Crawling forward on my belly, I tried not to smash my ears against the rough, bark-coated ceiling. When I emerged from the hole, I glanced back at my hiding place: a burrow between the large, winding roots of a tree.

Sol's sinking form shone on the green, wide-leaved trees around me. It was all... unfamiliar. I'd run farther than I'd thought, fear fueling each step, but now, a sorrowful voice guided me back.

My small paws hit the ground in an exhausted trot, headed towards the howl. Relief filled every labored breath. I never thought I would hear her again.

I ducked under branches and pushed through the stinging thorns of the brambles, following the noise and a trail I recognized. The ground opened up to reveal a clearing where she stood––and another lay on the ground.

Blood and fur spattered the dirt, pooling around the fallen forms and staining the earth with a crimson hue.

The first body lay before me, tan with black features. It's dark eyes were wide and unblinking. A jagged hole in its throat spilled out its life. The feline.

I shut my eyes as much as I could, trying to keep out the horrifying sight while stepping warily around the edge of its slender-tailed form. I held my breath to keep out the sickening smell of death. Not only from the cat, but the other body that lay lifeless before me.

I ran to my sister's side. She was still howling, a mournful cry forming deep in her own, scarred and bloodied chest. She stood at the paws of the fallen she-wolf.

Her fur was no longer gray. Only red.

It seeped from the attempts at her throat, and deadly claws had torn long, clean gashes across her sides and overturned belly. Her face was torn, and her ears were tattered. I hardly recognized the wolf who was once my mother. Even her sweet, fading scent was drowned by the overwhelming stench of blood.

Her chest rose no longer, and the thunder in her heart had quelled. There was no warmth in her muzzle, even as I licked it, pressed my nose into her cheek, and shoved my head beneath her chin, begging her to wake.

A storm formed in my belly. The wind whipped against my face with anger and fear. The flash of lightning burned in my eyes, and the flood came with a downpour of tears.

Warm fur enveloped me, and her howl fell from the sky. I buried my face in my sister's pelt. I held my eyes shut, wishing the pain would all just go away. If only it were just a dream––but I knew it wasn't.

Death was all too real.

She held me tightly for a moment, then used her nose to nudge my muzzle upward. She met my gaze with tears welling in her eyes. They pleaded for me to understand. She was gone.

There was nothing we could do now. Nothing but to remember her, to keep her close to our hearts.

She pushed my nose just a little higher, then turned to the clouds to open her muzzle. Out came a deep howl that growled in writhing pain. My small, whimpering voice tried its best to echo hers, and I released all my sorrows in a cry. The tears fell harder, but my heart ached less. I remembered every second of my mother's love, and together, we sang of her life––one given so we could live on.

It was just us now.

The howling around me started to fade, and when I opened my eyes again, the single tone faded into five. The sky was starlit once more, and our voices shrank together. The forest was silent again.

No one seemed to notice my absence from the present, only glancing back at Mist. How long had we been howling for them not to notice my mind had been somewhere completely different? This memory was even more real, more painful than any of the others. My chest ached with the sadness in my younger self's heart.

Mist tipped her nose, and each member of the pack returned the gesture. I cleared my head with the swooping motion, and after a deep breath, offered a grateful smile. Mist's tail wagged, and she dismissed the pack.

I was too tired to think about it all right now, and I hopped around to head for the cave. Cloud was most of the way there already, only, she veered right and stood for a moment at the trail to the overlook. She glanced behind her, eyes trained on the ground. I focused on her muzzle, there to meet her gaze when she braved her vision upward.

A shyness tugged at the corner of her lips, an unspoken invitation to join her––if I wanted to.

I growled to myself for not being able to say no.