"Spruce, stop!"

The wolf's weight rocked back. Seeing my chance, I mustered the strength I had left in my foreleg and jerked upward. The top of my skull collided with his jaw, and his teeth came together with a loud crack. He stumbled back and off of my body, shaking his head and holding his muzzle askew. His lip curled in pain, yellowed fangs stained with a sliver of crimson.

An even more sinister growl emerged from his gut, and his burning eyes grew to a blaze of death. He locked his gaze on my throat, this time telling of a pain I couldn't imagine.

"Stop it!" The voice rang out again, this time drawing both of our attention.

I yanked my muzzle toward the trees, scouring the forest's green to find yet another wolf beneath the needles of a pine. Slick fur shimmered in the sunlight, the color of pure, perfect ash. A small and slender body, with thick white curls cresting the neck and chest, gave the wolf more volume than... she had. The calm but terse voice had emerged from an equally petite muzzle, now curved into a frown. A round and narrow nose topped it, while wide and angled eyes sat higher up on her face, the area around them lined with dark, faultless lines. There was something about the color––what I could only guess was silver––that reflected a glint of the soft blue in the sky. Despite the discontent in her icy expression, a spark of something warm twinkled deep in her gaze.

"What do you think you're doing?"

My heart nearly burst as I tore away my eyes. I swallowed the nervous acid rising in my throat, blood rushing to my face as I struggled to find anywhere to rest my sight. Only when she cleared her throat, prompting an answer, did I realize her glare was not on me––but the yearling wolf near my side. He'd been stopped so effortlessly by this soft-tongued female, the hatred melting from his face and replaced with a subtle scowl. He avoided her eyes.

"He started it," the pup, Spruce, mumbled. "He threatened me."

The muscles above her eyes lowered into a similar glower, no color on her fur to differentiate the brow-region from the rest of her face. "I don't care. You don't attack until I tell you to."

Until? So she was here to kill me, but I wasn't sure why she was so intent on keeping the pup from doing it first. Her small and soft appearance didn't seem like much of a killer, body short and rounded, her legs long and lean. There wasn't much muscle anywhere else on her, and she was much smaller than I was. But looks were all too often untruthful––just like the juvenile's claims that I had started anything.

A chuckle drew my ears back to the ashen wolf's side. There, another pup sat, similar in color to the first. Less black singed her fur, and more pale, sandy brown bristled up from her undercoat. Her pelt formed a blur of bark and shadow that blended perfectly into the trees.

"Shut up, Pine!" A groan escaped Spruce's muzzle. He locked his eyes on me, now with a little more vigilance than pride. The juvenile stepped around my form without lifting his gaze, treading cautiously until he stood at the two females' side. "I wasn't going to hurt him," he claimed. "He was trying to run."

The first part, I doubted, remembering the glow of yearning in his eyes––for excitement and bloodshed. But the second half was true. What did they think I would do, so carelessly leaving their strange and hostile scent on the riverbank for me to find when I woke? Warning me that someone had been here, seen me. If only I could run, and I hadn't failed so miserably in my attempt to leave before they returned with reinforcements... oddly, in the form of a runty she-wolf and her pups.

As if on cue, the female pup stepped forward in a crouch. "I don't think he can." She crept closer, muzzle pointed intently at my bloodied foreleg. Her inhale was audible, voice growing in pitch with curiosity. "He doesn't have a paw."

I bit my tongue, suppressing the urge to growl. The last one hadn't been received so well. Instead, I tucked my injured leg further beneath my chest and did my best to keep a straight face as my weight pressed against the sharp and shattered bone.

"Get back, both of you." The white she-wolf pushed ahead and swung her snout in the direction of the trees. She spun around to face the male and did the same, gathering her pups behind her.

Spruce complied with a smirk, spitting more blood from his muzzle. "Good idea, it probably has diseases."

A nervous huff nipped my attention. The wolf in the middle eyed me up and down. "Sorry about that." She chuckled as she spoke, a subtle grin etched across her jowls. "You know how pups are."

I really didn't, nor did I find her façade of sincerity amusing.

The she-wolf cleared her throat again when she realized I wasn't returning the smile, then swallowed. After hesitating, she lifted her silver eyes to meet mine. "Anyway..." she started, her voice stuck between words. "We found you here earlier. I noticed you were hurt."

I already knew why they were here. I was injured and defenseless, a pawn in whatever sick game they were playing. Why else would they leave me alive for so long? I wouldn't fall victim to her trust––let her think she'd tricked me right before she dug her fangs into my throat.

Turning my nose down and my eyes away from her gaze, I kept my muzzle clamped tightly. In response to the silence, the young female, Pine, cleared her throat. She glanced at her mother with a question in her furrowed gaze. "Maybe he can't speak?"

The white wolf brushed away the proposition with a tilt of her head. The subtle tint of tan in her inner ears flicked back in my direction. It didn't matter what they believed. I wouldn't utter a word.

She seemed to accept my decision with a subtle nod, turning on her paw pads and running her nose through a patch of grass at the base of a nearby tree. When she withdrew, a tawny corpse hung limply in her mouth. Long, black-tipped ears dangled from its head, while wide-toed paws drooped from the hind.

I tried not to seem too eager, swallowing the saliva that started to drip from my jowls. I couldn't show how much I wanted it––needed it, to cure the pangs of hunger that howled within and clawed at the sides of my belly. I couldn't get my hopes up that it was actually for me, even as the she-wolf placed the prey, fittingly, a hare's length from my paws.

It was food.

Or was it some sort of test?

Maybe they wanted to see just how desperate I was, to mock the little self-control I had. I'd reach for the hare only to have it snatched away. She'd laugh and eat it in front of me, baiting me into an act of aggression. Then she'd have the ample pleasure repaying it with a lethal bite.

A million more possibilities swam through my head, clouding my senses in a whirlpool of doubt. I lowered my snout to the sand and took a deep breath, hoping she wasn't so feather-bellied as to attack me unaware.

I let it out slowly.

When I opened my eyes, the hare was no longer in front of me, rather, right beneath my snout. The small female returned to sit between her pups, too long of a distance to take it back. I sniffed the prey for any signs of tainting, but the only scent was tantalizing, newly shed blood. It meant it was fresh. Damming the trickle of worry before it could seep into my mind, I picked apart the morsel of meat and savored every second of the all-too-forgotten feeling of eating.

Once the tender, pink flesh was gone, I downed what remained of the hare with a couple bone-crushing bites, hide and all. I regretted acting so starved, but I couldn't really bring myself to care. Licking the last of the blood from my muzzle, the beast in my belly finally settled into some form of contentment. There was still a gnawing hunger deep below it all––something that yearned for more, for the familiarity of regular meals. Something to cover my ribs, fuel my muscles and strengthen my tired bones. I was afraid that would never come.

The white wolf cocked her head as I cleared my parched throat. My tongue was like a piece of bark, rough and sharp against the roof of my mouth. "Thank you," I muttered, through obligation alone. The hoarse words crept over the wall of gravel in my voice, hardly louder than the babble of the river behind me.

"So he can speak." Joy sparked in the she-wolf's grinning muzzle, and she stepped forward onto the sunlit sand. "I'm Cloud, by the way," she said with a swish of her tail. "And these two are Spruce and Pine." With her nose, she pointed to each pup accordingly.

An evergreen was an appropriate choice for the male's name. His attitude was like a spruce's needles, bitter and unchanging. While I guessed his sister gleaned her name from her deep green eyes, the color of a young pine at the irises' edges, with a bright ring of yellow timber at their center. The white, curly-furred female was obvious enough.

I wasn't sure why a simple thanks had brought on introductions. I still didn't trust them. But if they weren't going to kill me, why did they stay? I didn't respond, not having a name to give them anyway.

A groan emerged from Cloud's side. Spruce again. "I'm tired of waiting," he barked. "Why are you here?"

No one paid much mind to the pup's demands, but Cloud did take another step forward. "Can I see it?"

I followed her gaze to the mass of torn flesh and bone sitting at the left of my chest. My foreleg had come untucked from beneath me, and her watchful eyes took in every scratch. I bared my teeth as she continued toward me, an air of caution in her steps. My jaws tensed when she reached the bloodied stump, within range of my teeth. She didn't seem to notice, leaning down with an open muzzle. I slipped out a low and leery woof, a plea for her to back away. Not to hurt it anymore than it was.

As I reached out to offer a snap, to force her stubborn snout away myself, it burned. A high-pitched whine pierced the air, my muzzle rendered useless as the fire traveled up my leg, and her mouth met the searing, angry flesh. It was rough and wet, but grazed my injury ever so gently.

Her tongue––not her teeth, cleaned the blood and dirt from my fur. She licked the torn muscles tenderly. The damp, pink terrain latched to the itchy sand and pulled it from the inside of the wound. A thick coat of saliva was left over my mangled leg, cool and soothing, but it still did little to extinguish the fury of the flame. I flinched as she nudged a shard of white poking through my skin. It was small and sharp, the rest of the jagged fragment lodged deeply in my flesh, separated from the rest of the bone.

"Take a deep breath." Cloud's voice came out as soft and calm as her tongue. Only, it kept me from realizing the words until it was too late.

I bayed loudly and jerked back, but the piece of bone remained between her teeth. I licked the blood seeping from the new, stinging wound before throwing my head in the she-wolf's direction and pushing a snarl through my teeth.

Cloud backed away, an awkward grimace on her muzzle. "Sorry!"

I growled louder. I didn't accept her apology, and I didn't care about holding back my aggression. The fur rippled along my spine, and my teeth pressed harder into my bottom jaw. I didn't ask her to tend my injuries. To talk to me. To bring me food.

Why was she so intent on trying to be helpful? Why was she so determined to gain my trust? There was nothing she could ever do to make a difference. Nothing to heal this stupid leg, or bring back my life. I didn't want her pity. If she really wanted to help, she could leave. Leave. Me. Alone.

I didn't hear the words until they had left my muzzle, a mixture of fury, frustration and annoyance. Cloud was taken aback by the hostility, sinking on her haunches and uttering a faint whimper. I read the emotion in her eyes, the glint of hurt that stirred in her silvery irises like a storm. My voice caught in my throat, sputtering into a fit of coughing, while guilt dragged it down to my stomach.

"We should just put the poor dunce out of his misery." Spruce curled his lip, and saliva flew from his mouth with each pitch in his snarl. He started towards me, holding my eyes with a glare. "Leave or die, mutt."

I'd had enough of his muzzle, too. Baring my teeth, I ran a slow tongue over my upper jaw. I flicked my chin, a reminder of the damage I'd inflicted in our last encounter. Then I smirked, my best impression of one his own, stupid grins.

With a thundering growl, he lunged, a blur of black, bristling fur with jaws stretched wide. I threw myself sideways, not knowing if I could count on Cloud to save me again. Surely none of them cared if I lived or died, and silently I cursed myself for ruining the one chance I had.

Another howl of annoyance rang out.

"What is wrong with you?" Cloud jumped in front of the pup, pushing him back with a forceful shove of her head. Her bark rose high above the trees as she widened the gap between us. "Stop it. Stop it!"

The she-wolf's nostrils flared as she inhaled deeply, and her eyes fluttered closed. After a moment of sitting in silence, she let out the breath. Cloud did that a couple more times before her eyelids parted, and the anger faded from her muzzle. I watched in shock, surprised that such a fierce sound had come from her body.

Her gaze turned to me. This time it was less friendly, more cold. "I understand if you don't want help," she said curtly, "but Spruce did make one good point."

Worry rose in the back of my throat. I should've held my tongue. Now, they really were going to kill me.

"You have to leave."