The wolf dared not speak as they walked slowly back through the winter woods, but his mind raced. He wondered if these two dogs leading him even knew the Saluki that he had just killed; but even if they only knew his name and nothing else, shouldn't they still be upset for him?

And then, a small thing clicked. The wolf realised that these dogs were not capturing him for fun; they were only following orders. Those two dogs had not been friends with the saluki that he had killed; they were just coworkers. With this realisation, the wolf grew a small fear, a small disgust towards the dogs. Did they have no empathy?

His body became heavy with exhaustion and pain as he calmed, dragging along slowly through the forest, and he began to limp on a back leg. He licked his lips, trying to clear them of blood, still panting with anxiety.  He had mud, dirt, leaves and blood smeared across the back of his pelt, his legs, and face. He wanted to shake it all out, but refused to move too quickly or out of turn in the stiff presence of the two dogs. He walked along slowly but obediently.

Soon, the forest opened up slightly to a commonly walked dirt path, and the path led to a tall wall constructed of tree trunks. The walk seemed to have taken forever. It was dark, then, and the moon casted a soft blue glow across the three dog's hides. The foreground was black. The wolf's paws ached sorely, as did his back and his wounds. His bites throbbed with pain, and it sent pulses of agony throughout his body any time he put pressure on the hind leg beneath his haunch bite. So he didn't, and he held it high.

Another dog met them, a black one, walking along the top of the tall wooden wall. He called out behind him, "The hunting party has returned!" And there was a clamour of several behind the wall. Then, a large door was pushed open, nearly indistinguishable from the wall. The Kangal and the Saluki pulled the wolf inside of Veal Tribe.

It was overwhelming. The thousands of scents, the loud noise, the darkness and gleaming eyes and teeth and different pelts and sizes and the stench of domesticated canines. Dogs stopped, stared, walked towards the wolf and grumbled and mocked and conversed concernedly and gossiped. They surrounded him, and he looked down at the ground, struggling to breathe. He suddenly felt suffocated.

The two dogs led him along the wall and down a path separate from the rest of the dens and leather huts; they soon arrived at a large rock formation, an opening at its base. A large dog with tall ears guarded the entrance.

He glanced the three up and down, eyes gleaming under the moon, in the dark, and then spoke matter-of-factly, "The Saluki and the other may enter, but the Kangal must go. The Baron appreciates your help, and you will be rewarded generously."

The Kangal seemed rather disappointed, and gruffed, but gave the lead to the Saluki female and walked away heavily. She sighed, almost as if she were anxious, and then pulled the wolf into the grey rock corridor. It wasn't too large, but also not too small; it only took a few moments of walking before the cave opened up to a larger area. There, waiting, was The Baron.

He was magnificent. He was graceful, a lean build, and yet very large- as large as the Kangal, almost as large as the wolf. A body built for fighting and protecting and running, all. His wiry coat was solid white, his ears cropped close to his head, and his tail very short. His nose was a bit short and fringed with a wire coat's typical bearding and feathering, and his eyes gleamed- one amber, the other blue, with an ebony nose. He wore leather armour strapped to his back and head with elegantly laced twine, inscribed and carved with drawings of oceans and rivers and suns; atop of his head was a simple crown of dried blue wildflowers and greenery. Around his neck was a simple loose necklace, a twinkling clear gem on the end of it. He expressed power and position.

"Come forth," he spoke, his voice smooth but deep, expressing authority.

The two obeyed. The pointed Saluki female tugged the male wolf along until they stood directly in front of The Baron.

He spoke again, "Thank you for catching him for me. I see that the party took a casualty, so thank you for bringing the wolf to me alive. I do see that he is limping, but that is alright."

"Of course, Sir. If I may ask," she hesitated, "What is it you plan to use him for?"

"I actually brought you here to talk about just that," He said. "No other tribe in Anertha has a wolf in their custody, much less at their disposal..." he stood from his stone throne and stepped closer towards the two, "Do you know why the domestic canines killed the wolves off?"

"Because they were dangerous, Sir."

"Exactly," he took another step around them, eyeing them both, as if admiring their catch. "They are too strong, too powerful, to dangerous to be allowed to live in Anertha. So what would happen if they rose once again?"

"It would mean ruin, Sir."

"No, Laika. It would mean dominance." He smirked, eyeing her, his short tail upright, "We could get in trouble if other tribes knew we had a wolf. But what if we didn't have a wolf? What if there was a way to keep the wolf's feral strength and dominance, but not the wolf himself?" When standing upright, the wolf could only notice how raised The Baron's shoulders were. They rippled with muscle beneath the thick, scruffy fur.

"Sir?"

"There is, Laika. And I want you to be a part of it. We can obtain his power, his strength, without worrying about keeping an actual wolf for too long. I have a project that I want your help with."

"Anything, Sir."

"Good, good. Come with me. We will continue to talk... bring the wolf as well."

Laika and the wolf walked through the cave, following The Baron. The wolf still limped. The white dog led them down another short corridor, which opened into a small den. There was a large stone on one end of the small room, a rope sitting unused beneath it. The floor was dry dirt.

"Laika, you have proven yourself to be worthy of great power," The Baron spoke with pride, and at his authority's words, Laika seemed to beam, standing a little taller and smiling a bit, a glow to her dark eyes, and her floppy ears perking a bit. "This is an honour for you to bear," he said. Gently, "Please, close your eyes. You too, Wolf".

"Yes, Sir," and she obeyed, and so did the wolf. The wolf heard the slip of a rope, and felt it tie around his neck. It was much thicker, much heavier than the other. He knew immediately it could not be broken nor gnawed through, and he suddenly felt a bit more hopeless and scared.

"Open your eyes."

They both did, and turned to look at each other, making a brief eye contact. The Baron had tied a thick cord from the wolf's neck to the Saluki's neck, and then to that cord, another was tied and wrapped, held beneath the stone. They both looked at the stone, then at each other once again, bewildered.

"Sir?" Laika suddenly looked much less impressed.

"In order to obtain the wolf's qualities," The Baron said simply, "Then we must reproduce with him. I will chose only the best, the proudest, and the most capable from my fleet to sire his pups- which will have his power, and yet, they will be dogs."

Laika's jaw dropped, and then her face smeared into a snarl, "What?! I don't agree to this."

"You don't have a choice, Laika. You should be more loyal. Don't complain... it isn't a good look. You'll be fed twice a day until the pups are here, then, three times a day." With that, he turned, a smile on his face, and walked out of the room.

"No, no..." she muttered, a scowl on her face. She glared after The Baron as he walked away. "This fuckin' asshole! Makes me do his dirty work and then does this?!" Then, after her fit of rage, she turned to glare at the wolf who was now bound to her, and the wolf swore he saw something like fear in her eyes. So far, he has seemed smaller than her as he crouched, huddled, and held his tail and head and ears low. But without a larger presence, he felt a little safer, and he stood and stretched, and suddenly he seemed to tower over the tall dark Saluki, and his bulk and muscle and heavy coat made her look puny, whenever in reality she was far from it. She flashed him a wide-eyed look once again, almost without realising it.

The wolf wanted to apologise, he wanted to say that he was sorry for existing and putting her in this situation. He didn't. Instead, he laid down on the ground and sighed softly. He wanted her to be taller than him. He wanted her to feel a little bit safer.

"Wolf," Laika said quietly, sitting down as far from him as she could get, "Where is it you come from? Are there other wolves still out there?" The rope was taught between them, creating distance, and yet connecting them to one another. Silently, they both despised the other in a subtle way.

"I'm not sure anymore. We lived underground for decades in the north, not too far from here. But when we emerged, expecting the dogs to greet us with open arms, we were attacked and scattered to the winds. Now, here I am, lurking in the domestic's forests, having no place of my own. I don't know where my family is."

Though his voice was slewed with sadness, grief, and the loss of hope, it was risen slightly with a spite for the domestics, knowing that they were the ones who had caused him so much pain. Laika was unimpressed, and a little offended. The wolf stared at the floor as he spoke, searching with his eyes as if he could find something in the dirty stone that he could not find anywhere else. As if he was searching for a reason in the stone to keep on.

And yet, there was something else; the wolf was angered, of course, in a silent fury at his loss; but he did not pin the blame on the domestic beside him. He was tender in a way Laika couldn't place. There was a kindness in him. He did not bare his fangs nor glare at her. Laika was shocked at his gentleness, despite her ego, and at his strong emotion; her long flowing ears perked up slightly, and her gaze found his face; but he did not look up at her.