Secrets of the Wolves by Dorothy Hearst Page A

air. The young wolf bounded toward them, and Ruuqo and Rissa ran to meet him. The three wolves leapt and danced around each other. Trevegg darted forward and knocked the visiting wolf onto his back, stood on his belly, and licked his face.
    “Welcome home, Demmen,” he said. The youngwolf laughed, licked Trevegg in greeting, and got to his feet.
    “He was our littermate,” Yllin whispered to me. “He left right before you pups were born to see what was outside the valley. I thought we’d never see him again.”
    I wanted to greet the youngwolf, too, to ask him of life outside the valley. I crept forward, followed by Ázzuen and Marra. An instant later, Yllin and Minn bolted past us, almost knocking us over, and leapt upon Demmen. The three young-wolves wrestled for several moments, then stood, shaking mud from their fur. Yllin reared up and placed her paws on Demmen’s back. She was a dominant wolf and wanted to prove it. Demmen whoofed good-naturedly and slipped out from under her, pawing at her chest. They rolled each other over a few times and then stopped, panting, neither of them having won the dominance match.
    “I thought you would be as fat as a swamp pig in summer, Demmen, now that you can keep all the greslin for yourself.”
    “The prey run faster outside the valley, Yllin,” Demmen said.
    Yllin ducked her head uncertainly, as if unsure if Demmen was making fun of her or not. For the first time since I’d known her, Yllin seemed a little flustered, as if overawed by this youngwolf who had seen the outside of the Wide Valley.
    We pups came forward shyly. After looking to Ruuqo and Rissa for permission, Yllin introduced us.
    “This is Demmen,” she said, “the biggest prey hog in the valley. Don’t let him near your greslin. Demmen, these are Swift River’s surviving pups: Kaala, Ázzuen, Marra, and Unnan.” I was surprised that she had mentioned Ázzuen second. Wolves were introduced in order of dominance, and Ázzuen had so recently been the weakest wolf in the pack.
    We pelted Demmen with questions. What was it like outside the valley? Where had he been? Why did the Greatwolves allow him back? Was he staying? He patiently answered most of our questions and deliberately ignored others.
    “Four strong pups who survived the winter,” he said when we’d all paused to catch our breath. “My compliments, Rissa. I know of no other pack that kept more than three alive this year,” he said formally. She grinned at him.
    “We have been fortunate,” she said.
    “How many in the litter?” he asked. “When I left you had not yet pupped. And where are Neesa and her young?”
    My whole body went cold and heavy. I found myself wanting to shake hard, as I did when my fur was drenched with water and mud. All around me there was silence. Neesa was my mother. Demmen should have been able to smell that.
    “I’m so sorry,” Demmen said, his ears low. “I’ve asked something I should not have asked.”
    “It is not something you could have known of,” Rissa said. “Marra, Ázzuen, and Unnan are three of the six pups I bore. Kaala is Neesa’s daughter, and the only one of her litter to survive.” She paused. “Neesa has left the pack.”
    She did not say that my mother had been driven from the pack, or that Ruuqo had killed my three sisters and my brother. I kept my eyes lowered. There were times when I would go weeks at a time without thinking of my mother or my lost littermates. I had been so busy with the humans, I had not been battered down by despair for nearly a moon. I had done my best not to think about them because whenever I did, a cloud of sorrow and bitterness would descend upon me, making everything seem heavy and dark. It might find me as I was hunting smallprey, or as Ázzuen, Marra, and I were running the territory. A scent of damp earth and pine roots would remind me of my mother’s den, or an expression on Ázzuen’s face would make me think of my lost brother, Triell, and I would