There was a battle commencing.

Claws swiped. Fangs glistened. One fighter yelped in pain as one slash made contact with his snout, blood soaking into his grey fur.

Desperate, he tried to return the pain, jabbing his claws at the orange fur of his opponent. They were deflected easily. There was laughter, satisfied laughter. He tried again, and again, wishing every time that more power could build up behind each strike. But each time, his weak attempts only ended in more pain, and more laughter.

Before he knew it, he was pinned awkwardly against the ground, a powerful force keeping him pressed there. He struggled, but it was useless.

He had failed.

Again.

"Well done, Damon," came a voice from above. After a final squeeze, his opponent released him, and turned to the speaker.

"Thank you, uncle," Damon drawled, giving the wolf on the ground a triumphant glance. "But it was no effort. I mean no offence, but Thirty-Four is just as weak as last time."

As he climbed painfully to his paws, Thirty-Four could give him only a subdued glare. However much it hurt, it was true. He was weak, and that wasn't about to change.

But it was the next part that was the worst. Every time, it was the same. After the older wolf had finished congratulating Damon, he turned to Thirty-Four, anger glowing in his eyes like blazing fire.

"Do you learn nothing?" he hissed, towering over the grey pup. "You are my son. I expect only the best from my son." Flames licked around his neck. "But I get nothing from you, Thirty-Four. Just another failure."

Every time before, Thirty-Four would keep his head bowed, and only nod solomnly. But this time was different. He saw Damon, now being congratulated by his own parents, for the sole achievement of causing pain to the same defenceless pup.

It was unfair.

"I'm Peltless!" he protested, forcing himself to meet his father's eyes. "Damon already has his Flame Pelt! Once I have my Pelt, I will be stronger. You know that!"

It was a risk to talk back. One that didn't pay off.

Taking a threatening step forward, his father glared down at him, the fur around his neck blazing with fire. "With that performance, I doubt that." For a moment, Thirty-Four feared he might attack - but, of course, he never did. It was all words.

With a shake of his head, his father turned away. "Get out of my sight," he growled, his voice low and menacing. Thirty-Four didn't hesitate. His grey tail whipped around, and he fled. He didn't want to stay a moment longer.

There was only one place to recover from such an experience. Heart pounding, and the wound on his snout still stinging fiercly, he sprinted as fast as his little paws could manage. It wasn't a long journey from Damon's house, thankfully. All he focused on was the thud of his paws against the steep incline of the ground, beating in time to his thudding heart.

There it was. The hill.

A small grove of trees, sat atop the southernmost edge of the valley. Tiny flowers, with dainty yellow petals, spread a sweet scent in calming waves through the air. Pausing for a moment, Thirty-Four closed his eyes, forcing himself to take deep, steady breaths. In, and out. His father was nothing to get worked up about. It was the way things were. Hopefully, soon, it would all change.

When he got his Pelt.

It had to happen soon. It had to.

Most wolf pups got their Pelts when they'd reached twelve moons. Some even before that. But he was nearing his eighteenth moon, and yet... nothing. No sign of a Peltmark any time soon. Just another of his many failures.

Sighing, he opened his eyes and took the final few steps, emerging from the trees. The sun glimmered on his grey fur, turning it a pale silver. Below him was a steep drop towards the valley, slicing away the serenity of the cliff. He decided not to move any further forward.

"You made it!" called a voice, light and friendly. A happiness danced in Thirty-Four's eyes at the sound, and his gaze quickly fell on the wolf, sat much closer to the edge than he'd ever dare go.

"Lexi!" he shouted back. "Come over here - you know I can't stand the height."

Her laugh completed the peacefulness of the place. It was a genuine laugh, a sweet laugh. "I'm not close to the edge at all." But still, she rose and bounded over to join him at the edge of the trees. As she approached, her expression changed to one of concern. "You're bleeding!" she exclaimed, peering at the wound in shock. "Damon again?"

He nodded, dropping his eyes to the ground. "I'm sure it gets worse every time," he muttered. There was a sudden sharp sting as Lexi rubbed something into the scratch - an ointment of sorts, probably - but he forced himself to remain still and not flinch away.

"You're very trusting," she remarked, once she'd finished.

"What reason would I have not to trust you?" he replied, flicking his tail in amusement. It was true, though. He trusted Lexi more than any other wolf he'd ever met.

They sat in silence for a while, simply enjoying the sun on their fur and the grass at their paws. Thirty-Four turned to study his friend. In the sunshine, she was always particularly stunning, with her shimmering golden coat. She might have been a piece of sunlight herself. Most Thunderwylves had yellow Pelts, so the sparkling gold of Lexi's fur had always made her stand out.

Of course, he'd always found her beautiful, even before her Pelt. The feature that had always captivated him most was her soft hazel eyes.

It always made him feel special and proud when he sat beside her. She was going to do great things one day, he was sure of it.

Eventually though, he grew bored of sitting in silence. He knew Lexi would do it all day if she could, gazing up into the sky and thinking, but he didn't have that patience. "Want to play a game?" he asked, springing to his paws.

"What did you have in mind?" Her tail swept left and right, the way it did when she was thinking hard. "I could teach you some more mathematics," she suggested meaningfully.

Thirty-Four snorted. "No chance. I was thinking something more like..." He paused, letting the slightest tension build. Tilting her head to the side, Lexi waited in curiosity.

"Tag! You're it!" he yelled suddenly, tapping her with his tail as he sprinted past her into the forest. From behind him, he heard Lexi growl jokingly.

"I'll catch you, puppy!" she shouted after him, making her tone deeper and rougher. "I'll catch you and I'll boil you alive!"

"No you won't!" Thirty-Four called back, putting on a burst of speed in an effort to escape her grasp. "I'm faster than the wind!"

In that moment, everything was perfect. He had his best friend, beautiful surroundings, and the wonderful sensation as the wind whipped through his fur and flattened his ears.

He closed his mind to all other thoughts, and just focused on that perfection.

It was all that mattered.

---

Both Thunderwylves and Peltless weren't known for their strength and stamina, and so it wasn't long before both wolves collapsed amongst the trees, their chests rising and falling rapidly.

Well, Lexi leapt back up and tagged him after only a few moments. So maybe she had more strength. He didn't have the energy to fight back, not anymore. "Fine. You win," he murmured, staying rooted to the ground.

But she shook her head. "No. Of course not. You see, there's this unspoken rule in tag that..." Her voice trailed away as her eyes drifted to the sun, now beginning to descend from its midday position. "Oh Luna." Digging her claws into the earth, she stared down at him in fear. "I'm so sorry, I have to go. I'm late. I can't be late. Not again."

With a sigh, Thirty-Four pushed himself upright, and touched his snout briefly to her flank. "It's fine. Go. I know how much your job means to you." He forced the tone to sound upbeat.

"Thanks. You're such a great friend, Thirty-Four." She was already backing away. "I'll see you tomorrow. Same place. I'm sorry." With the final apology, she turned and ran, her ears twitching in anxiety.

As soon as she was out of sight, Thirty-Four collapsed to the ground again. Every time she had to leave, it hurt just the same. It never got easier. They lived in two different worlds now - and his was the dull, useless world of a Peltless.

Before Lexi got her Pelt, they'd both lived in that world. They would speculate each other's coming Pelt, and just play here, in the woods, all day long. There were no worries then. That was before everything changed.

But everything could change again. For the better.

With a firm nod, he rose more surely this time, and began the trek back up to the top of the hill. He wouldn't give up. His Pelt would come soon, and then he'd have everything he'd ever wanted.

Power.