~Day Twenty of the Migration~

We rise with the moon and follow the river upstream.

With every pawstep the mountains draw closer and closer. By dawn, they're much larger then they had been when we began.

"Is it just me or do they seem a little too close?" Wolf asks.

Flare shrugs. "We walk fast,"

I can't help but disagree. We walk very fast.

We set off again, watching as the mountains draw closer and closer. The river becomes rapids becomes small waterfalls. Eventually, we stop getting closer to the mountains and start getting further into the mountains.

We slow to a stop in the forest, near the river. The waterfalls and the trees and the underbrush, all so familiar and yet so foreign.

It's almost like I can see the entire Great Rossifire Forest from here. Of course, being the biggest forest on the continent and also the place I had lived for my entire life, that seems impossible. The forest goes on for tens of thousands of miles. I can only see a fraction of a fraction of it from a relatively low position on the mountain range. But still.

Flare removes Dean's bag for him. Dean thanks him, rolling his shoulders.

"We actually fuckin' made it lads," Sam says in amazement before promptly collapsing to the ground.

I laugh at his antics.

Alarra nips at my ear then dashes out of the way before I can retaliate. I give chase, nipping at her heels with a loud laugh.

Flare pounces on Damon, beginning a play wrestling match. Wolf rushes to our brother's aide, tackling Flare with a war cry. Flare laughs and rolls to fend off the twin attacks from my brothers.

Alarra and I laugh gleefully at the sight before giving chase to one another again.

Dean nips at Sam's heels until the scruffy wolf hauls himself up and gives chase, laughing. I tackle Dean and tussle with him until he wriggles out of my hold and dashes away. I give chase, nipping at his tail with a giggle.

###

We had finally made it to the mountains.

Although the altitude takes some adjusting to, all in all, I quite like the terrain around here.

The river winds through grassy outcroppings and holds the familiar rocky bank of or previous home. Although, the rocks were darker in colour and sharper on the paw pads.

The trees were more evergreens then deciduous, although there were plenty of those as well.

The soil was rockier then back home but felt no less pleasant to walk on. There were more boulders as well, some of the rounded variety that I had grown used to, as well as some that seem to jut out of the earth, offering a useful vantage point but making for an awkward napping spot.

The air was crisper up here, something that I was defiantly not complaining about. Our old forest stunk of gunpowder after so many hunters had decided that they wanted to shoot at us.

Now, all we need to do is find a good spot for our (hopefully) permanent home. If I never have to migrate again it will be too soon.

###

We search for three days before we find a spot that I deem fit.

It's a small clearing filled with grass and containing a relatively small rounded boulder pushed off to one side.

There is an outcropping, on top of which was more forest. Evergreen roots wind in and out of the face of the outcropping. A little ways away, tucked into the forest in front of the outcropping, is a large oak tree. A small cave entrance rests in the stone that makes up the west wall of the clearing, over which a fallen tree rests, propped up by the small cliff that the outcropping is a part of.

All around, in the surrounding forest and the clearing itself, are potential dens.

"It's a little far from the river..." Flare says doubtfully.

"There's a brook not too far from here, actually," Alarra says, emerging from the trees.

"It's on a slight incline, so it won't flood," I say.

"How's the hunting around here?" Flare asks.

"Unclear," Alarra says, kicking a pebble across the clearing. "Given that we've only been here for twenty minutes,"

"And the hunting in the rest of the forest has been great so far," I say.

"Caribou probably migrate through the valley," Alarra says.

"They do, actually," I say. At her questioning look, I add: "My Geography teacher was very thorough,"

"I saw a moose near the river, yesterday," Alarra says.

"I saw a goose," I say.

"Just one?"

"Well, no, but geese doesn't rhyme with moose,"

"Okay, I get it," Flare says, interrupting us. "The hunting is good around here,"

"Anything else, mister worry wart?" Alarra asks.

"How about humans? To turn? Where are we going to get more wolves?" Flare asks.

"We can figure that out after we've settled in," I say. I swear we'd had this conversation before.

"So...?" Alarra tries.

Flare sighs. "Fine. We'll set up camp here,"

Alarra and I whoop, jumping around the clearing in victory.

###

"Alright," I say, looking around the cave we now find ourselves in. "We'll all sleep in here for now, until we get our dens sorted,"

"I assume you want the outcropping?" Flare asks, although he already knows the answer.

"You know me so well,"

"Ugh, don't remind me,"

I nip his ear. "Shut up, you love me,"

"We should probably share dens this time, rather then all of us having our own," Alarra says.

"I wasn't sharing with all of you before?" I ask with faux shock.

"Your den was the biggest!" Dean defends.

"Was?" I ask with a cocked brow. "Will be, thank you very much,"

"Not if mine's bigger," Dean says, sing-song.

"Boys," Alarra says drily. "Put them away. We were talking logistics if I recall?"

"Sorry, yes," I say. "Let's dig three dens and divvy them up between us,"

"What about this cave?" Damon asks.

"Well," I say, looking around again. The cave was large enough to fit the seven of us with room to spare. The entrance would make it possible for two of us to enter side-by-side. The cave had a gentle slope to it that led to the entrance. The ceiling is about seven feet tall, giving us plenty of headroom. The only real problem that the floor was made out of the same hard, light grey stone as the walls and ceiling. "We should probably lay down some dirt to pad the floor, but whoever wants it can have it,"

"In that case," Flare says. "You should have your den to yourself, Darra,"

"Hmm, why?"

Sam rolls his eyes. "It's simple math, Darra. Four dens, seven wolves, two to each den except the last. You're our Alpha, you should have a space to yourself,"

The others nod in agreement, even Damon and Wolf, although I'm not sure if they'd been entirely caught up on the whole 'Alpha' thing yet.

I open my mouth, close it. I blink. "If you're sure," I say hesitantly.

"Of course we're sure," Dean says. "We wouldn't have agreed to it otherwise,"

"Alright then," I say. Then, looking around the cave again. "Good lord, this place is depressing,"

"That can be fixed," Flare says with a minute shrug.

I'm slightly terrified to find out what Flare defines as 'fixing' the sad little cave.

###

Three days later.

I sigh happily as I push the last of the dirt out of my new den. After three days of work, it was finally finished. There's still a few roots to nip off and I still need to pack down the walls and ceiling, but it was finally all carved out.

I had carved as close to the middle of the outcropping as I could and dug a hole that was about three feet in diameter. The hole and become a sloping tunnel that went on for twelve feet before opening into the main chamber.

The main chamber was a large open space that could fit the entire pack with room for more. Across the room from the entry tunnel was the secondary exit, which was the same size as the first tunnel but went on for fifty feet and led out into an overgrown part of the forest, the bushes and grasses hiding the large hole. The ceiling of the main chamber was about six and a bit feet tall, giving loads of headroom to us five-foot-tall wolves. Off to one side of the chamber was a natural dirt pillar, which was about a foot thick. Then, off to the side was the secondary chamber.

There was an archway between the two rooms, about four feet tall, so you had to duck to enter it. The walls between the two rooms were over three feet thick, which made the archway more of a tunnel but schematics. The tunnel had two steps (three, if you count the one at the bottom/top of the stairs), each seven inches apart, with a platform over a foot long, to account for the stride of a wolf.

The secondary chamber was much larger than my old one, but not nearly as big as the main chamber. It could fit three wolves comfortably but no more. The ceiling here is about seven feet tall to account for the transformation process.

Then, opposite to the secondary chamber was the third chamber, which was small and rounded with low ceilings. It could fit two wolves and leave some wiggle room. This was going to be where I sleep.

I wasn't sure what I was going to do with the main chamber yet, but that was a tomorrow problem. Today, I needed to pack the dirt walls and ceiling of my new den. And maybe the floors again, just to be safe.

***

"You're annoyingly good at this," Flare says.

I was packing my walls with the pads of my paws, so I hadn't heard him come in. The dirt I had carved my home out of was tough and hard, so packing it isn't difficult. I'd had a hell of a time smoothing the floors, though. At least, until Dean had leant me a horse brush from his collection of Things That Should Not Have Been in the Same Place, then the floors had smoothed like a dream. I'd do the walls after I was done packing the dirt down.

"How do you mean?"

"Your den-making," Flare says. "You have a gift, seriously. How do you keep it from caving in?"

"Dig deep and don't try to keep the ceiling a straight line. And pillars, if you're having that much trouble with it," I advise.

"Do you-" Flare cuts himself off.

"Do I what?"

"Do you want to help us? With the other dens?"

I pause before turning to Flare with a grin. "I thought you'd never ask,"

###

By the end of the week we have three new dens.

Mine, as predicted, is the largest. Flare and Alarra's is underneath the oak tree. We had carved a seven-foot-deep trench a couple of meters beside the tree, then carved out a hole in the trench on the far right side (the side closest to the rest of camp) and tunnelled three feet in before carving out a singular chamber big enough to fit five wolves-- if they stood shoulder to shoulder in a straight line.

Damon and Wolf's is really just a hole in the side of a hill. (A bit undercut with a slight bump in the entry tunnel, to prevent flooding) it's a bit further into the forest and faces camp at a seventy-degree angle. The entry tunnel leads down into the earth into a chamber big enough to fit three, maximum.

Dean and Sam take the cave (now padded with dirt) and I'm sure they're just glad they didn't have to dig their den like the rest of us. Although Dean probably just took it so that he'd have space to store his trinkets. After having hauled them around for twenty days, I don't blame him.

###

"So what's the plan?" Flare asks.

I cut another line with my claw, further outlining our camp. After minimal exploration, the map is limited to the river, the brook, and the camp for now.

"Could you be more specific?"

"On expanding the pack,"

"Ahh," I say. I think about it for a moment. "Have the Pack start to explore. If we can find the settlements, we can form a plan whenever we require more wolves,"

"Okay..."

I sigh. "We are in no hurry to expand, Devil. We have time,"

"I know," Flare says, holding up a paw. "I know. I just want to make sure you actually have a plan,"

I scoff. "The plan hasn't changed. We go on with life as normal and figure it out from there,"

"If you're sure..." Flare trails off.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," I drawl sarcastically.

"Anytime," Flare quips.

I roll my eyes and push off of the wall. Back to standing on four legs, I stride past my Beta. "Come, let's hunt,"