Only three more nights until the Cubbing ritual. The previous day Terra had begun lecturing Gail on how the ritual will go down, step by step. Gail had already been taught this the year before, so this mainly served as a reminder so she wouldn’t screw up massively in front of the entire pack (or at least, most of the pack).

One of her ears was twisted when she was caught staring off into space. “Are you even listening to me?” demanded Terra, evoking another whine from Gail as she twisted yanked her ear upward.

“Ah! Y-yes, I’m listening, I’m listening!” Gail’s ear was given mercy, which she proceeded to massage. Terra huffed.

“In case you weren’t, I’ll repeat the crucial points,” she began. “After drinking from the concoction that the Zetas will have brewed, you shall be hunting in the Forest of Shadows, which you will be guided to. From there, you—”

“From there I hunt a feral wolf,” Gail interrupted, sounding agitated. “After I hunt for one, I go back to the ritual grounds to finish the Cubbing. Correct?” When Terra merely furrowed her brows, Gail added, “And to finish, I let the Zetas do their thing with the feral corpse, I drink from the modified concoction, then we all go home and sleep. Oh, and I get my skull mask sometime in the middle of all that.”

Terra dipped her head with a sigh. “You’re correct for the most part, but there’s more to it than just simply hunting a feral. We’ll hone your knowledge soon enough.”

Gail fought back a growl building to escape from her throat. She didn’t much care if she missed a few details, but she was certain she got down the important parts.

Though, she couldn’t retain her focus on the sequences of the ritual. Her mind would always drift back to Sierra’s book. That night she spent reading her collection. They were entertaining, for sure, especially with Sierra’s company, but she especially can’t get the image of Ventay out of her mind, along with other Higher Beings whose entries weren’t torn or rubbed off. She had never heard of the Higher Beings before. When she was a cub, she would be told tales ranging from wolves triumphing against all odds to romances that eventually made Gail question what was ethical in a relationship. Not once had Higher Beings ever been mentioned.

Her mind snapped back to reality at the mere touch of Terra holding her ear.

“Something is bothering you,” Terra said. “Tell me.”

“It’s nothing. I was jus— Ahh!” Gail jerked forward as her ear was yanked once more.

“I know something is on your mind, and I won’t allow it to interfere with your ritual. What”—Terra twisted harder—“is it?”

“Okay, okay! I’ll tell you if you let go!” Gail grunted and proceeded to massage her ears again. “You’re gonna tear my ear off at this point,” she muttered.

“Then better get talking if you want to keep it.” Terra crossed her arms, huffing impatience, as Gail gave a scowl.

“I just saw something cool from one of Sierra’s books,” Gail said.

Terra grilled, “And that was?”

“These things called Higher Beings. They sound like something Quibs would tell me about, so I wonder why none of you ever mentioned them to me. That’s all, okay? I found them interesting and I can’t stop thinking of them.” Gail expected Terra to reject her answer, but instead she saw a glimmer in the Alpha’s eyes.

“They are fascinating, I must admit,” Terra replied. “I did plan on telling you about one of them in the upcoming days prior to your ritual as a way of destressing you. Which one struck you as the most interesting?”

Gail shrugged. “Hard to really tell when most of the pages were practically blank. Nahvii sounded amazing, being able to come back life and assuming the form of her surroundings, but I’m not sure what an ‘omniphoenix’ is exactly. But Ventay popped out to me. The Zetas keep mentioning her, and I’m left wondering why.”

“Ventay, hm? She is a pretty significant figure to us wolves. What do you know about her?”

“That she’s the goddess of ferals and the hunt. That’s about it. Well, also that she looks terrifying.”

Terra scoffed. “Another miserable attempt at capturing her image, I imagine. Most of the depictions I’ve seen don’t align with how I see her. They’re all made by lowly scholars holding their utensils by their rear.”

Did Terra want something to be less menacing? Gail assumed she would want Ventay to be even more menacing than the depiction made her look.

“What makes you think Ventay isn’t that terrifying?” she asked. “She is the goddess of ferals after all.”

Terra squinted. “People exaggerate and fear what they don’t understand. And don’t forget that all Ferians are related to our feral brethren, millions of moons ago, when we shared one name as ferals. That’s something that we have certainly told you, did we not?”

“Yes, you did.” It sometimes unnerved Gail that they were eating creatures who were in some way related to them. Sure, Ferians were smarter and more capable than the ferals that they hunted for food, but they were still wolves and hares. There was no denying the similarities between the ruling Ferians and the skulking ferals.

“Hm. We’ll continue readying you for your ritual later past dusk. Proper hunting techniques are on the agenda, and I’m certain you’ll be needing it with how sloppy I’ve watched you fight.” Terra went over to her table. “Go on with your business, so long as you don’t do anything idiotic—such as having reasons to be tended by the Zetas yet again.”

Gail nodded. “Thank you.” She padded out of the Alphas’ den, keeping a solemn demeanor. Upon reaching the main tunnel she let out a grateful sigh, dropping her shoulders. “Two more nights of this and then my ritual the next.” Another sigh left her. Though as much as she was relieved to be free of Terra’s scrutiny, she was curious as to what Terra knew of Ventay. Curiously, she didn’t say a word about Nahvii despite Gail mentioning her first, and nothing regarding other Higher Beings. Honestly, she would’ve been satisfied with an explanation of what an omniphoenix is.

Was Ventay just that important?

A few Gammas entered the cave through the main entrance. The Gammas had already finished their noon hunt; everyone had already eaten, yet these three returned with prey in their hands. Better to prepare the prey pile, Gail thought.

Gail had planned to visit the Zetas—not to have any potentially upcoming wounds to be treated, but to query them about Higher Beings. She turned to head for the Zetas’ den, but her paws made her walk past it. She even glanced at it—spotting Potts and Juniper tending to a wounded Gamma—but she made her way further down the tunnel, taking the twisting path into the lower level. Sierra’s den was in sight, but that was not where she was headed.

Peeking into the Thetas’ den, Gail wrinkled her snout. Her nose was not accustomed to the pungent mixture of scent coming from inside. She pushed through, wanting to pay the wolves here a visit.

Unlike the other dens, where you would be in them after only a few steps beyond the doorway, it was practically another tunnel for the Thetas. There was a narrow cleft near the end, but after sidling through it, Gail found herself in the Thetas’ chamber.

Upon her entry, the three wolves flinched, huddling together at the end of the room. They look so terrified, Gail thought solemnly as she saw their pitiful eyes. Their faces were clear as moonlight, because they didn’t wear a skull mask. It was a mystery to Gail. The mask was a symbol—one that showed that you were a part of the pack. It troubled Gail that these three wolves did not don that symbol, and with such rugged clothing.

The Thetas eventually relaxed, realizing it was merely Gail.

“Good afternoon,” Gail said with a soft voice. “I hope you three are doing well?”

The three nodded in response. “As well as I’ll be like this,” The red wolf Goldenrod said, rubbing her enlarged belly. Her voice was frail, concerning Gail, and her brown eyes looked tired.

“We think the cubs will arrive in a few more nights,” the arctic wolf, Snowflake said. “Goldenrod has been complaining of increasing pains in her back and her discharge is different.”

Stains had always marked this chamber’s ground—it was mostly from the male wolves, a fact that Gail wished she hadn’t learned. They were hard to ignore, but what stood out more were the pinkish stains near where Goldenrod rested. Around the corner was a small clay box of damp rags. It was one of the few commodities that had been granted to them, along with holly leaves to sleep on, both of which were provided by the Zetas.

Gail asked, “Do you have names ready?”

“We have a measly list of names we’ve been sharing for the past moon or so,” Snowflake replied.

The third Theta—a gray wolf with a torn ear and a bristly tail—added, “It’s a lot more difficult to come up with good names, it turns out.”

Gail crossed her arms. “I thought you three would have come up with about a thousand names considering you have beautiful names yourselves.”

The gray wolf glanced away in embarrassment. “My name’s not that beautiful. . . .”

“Your name is gorgeous, Silverlight,” said Snowflake. “Don’t take into heart what those filthy wolves say about us.”

Silverlight did not feel reassured, continuing to stare at the ground. One thing Gail didn’t know was if Silverlight’s ear had already been bitten off before she was taken into the pack.

Goldenrod asked, “Do you have a name to contribute, Gail?”

“A name?” If they had difficulty thinking of a good name as they claim, what could she come up with? “Hm . . . What about . . . Nade?”

“Nade?”

“Like tornado.” Gail scratched her head. “I just . . . sorta went with how I was named—the strong gale winds.” She shook her head. “You don’t have to use the name Nade. It’s probably the worst name that I can muster.”

Goldenrod laughed weakly. “I honestly adore the sound of that name. I’ll consider naming one of my cubs that. I’m sure one of them will love that name.” She rubbed her belly while looking at it dearly.

Another wolf had entered the den. Silverlight and Snowflake trembled for a brief moment, but Goldenrod was perfectly calm the entire time. Gale turned to see that it was Reckles looking surprised with both hands behind his back.

“I didn’t expect you to be here,” he said. “Was I interrupting something?”

“No,” replied Gail. “I was just keeping them company. I’m surprised to see you here, too. I thought you’d be too busy doing whatever Gamma work you need to do.”

“Oh, I’ve already done my duties. I’m using any vacant time I can get to spend time with Goldenrod.” Reckles shifted in place. “Can I . . . get some privacy with my partner?”

“Sure. I need to get going anywa—” Gail stopped when a scent tickled her nostrils. She lifted her snout some as she tried to catch a whiff of it more. She took a step toward Reckles, who stepped back in response, and again when Gail took another.

“Something, uh, something the matter, Gail?”

Gail could faintly smell his fear at this point, but she knew what lingered in the air. “Are you . . . carrying prey with you?”

Reckles held his breath for so long that Gail thought he was going to pass out. Eventually he sighed and bowed his head. He mumbled, “Yes,” before revealing three dead hares in his hands. “Please don’t tell anyone. All that the Gammas know is that I take these to eat for myself. They don’t know that I’ve been feeding the Thetas more than they are allowed.” He dropped the hares and placed his hands on Gail’s shoulders, shaking her for forgiveness. “I beg of you, my fellow Gammas and above will do unspeakable things to me if they find out. Please overlook this, I just wanted to help them.”

Gail was at a loss for words. Reckles was that scared of being caught that he would plead to an unranked wolf. It may be due to her relations with the Alphas, but regardless, the way his soft blue eyes quivered, Gail couldn’t bear it. Even without seeing him this frightened, her response would’ve been the same. “I won’t tell,” she reassured. “Not a single word to anyone. I would want nothing more than for you to help them.”

Reckles’s eyes sparkled as a relieved smile overtook his maw. “Thank you. I promise to keep them happy.” He regained the hares and padded over to the three Thetas who expressed their gratitude.

Gail stood at the cleft entrance, watching them. The differences between a Gamma and a Theta became striking. Defined muscles and feathery clothing against frail bodies and ratty rags to cover them up. Above all those, the Thetas’ lack of the feral skull flooded Gail with sorrow.

I’ll find a way to make you all happy. Just a few more nights, maybe I’ll have that power.

Her mind reflected on the Thetas as she exited their den. When something warm jumped and wrapped itself around her, she couldn’t stop herself from screaming. Only when she registered that sweet giggling that she realized who it was. “Sierra!”

Another round of tittering from the hug monster. “Sorry for frightening you again. I’m feeling a little excited today.”

“Who said I got frightened?” Gail said as she flattened her hackles that definitely did not spike from Sierra’s surprise hug. To divert attention away from that, she asked, “What’s gotten you excited today?”

Sierra picked up a clay box from beside her feet. “Something for your ritual.” With caution, she turned and headed for the main tunnel. Calling over her shoulder, she said, “Come on, to our special place.”

A smile crept along Gail’s face along with a tingling sensation. Without a second thought, she followed Sierra. Despite her closest friend’s presence, her mind continued to dwell on the Thetas’ misfortunes.

With permission from Quibs to leave the rear entrance, Sierra and Gail were greeted by the cool, gentle breeze. Gail took a deep breath. How she missed the outside. They hadn’t gotten the chance to return to their Sanctuary ever since Gail painted on the stone canvas. Sierra had been under observation by the Alphas to ensure she gets her job done, making it impossible to sneak out.

“How close are you to finishing your jobs?” asked Gail.

Sierra replied, “This is the last part! Just some finishing touches to this and I’m off the hook.”

“That’s great to hear.” Gail smiled. “I’m surprised now is when you’re allowed to sneak out. They finally figured you’d be doing your job regardless if you’re being watched or not?”

“Not really. They still aren’t convinced that I’m dedicated to my role. They just think that everything’s already done, which it technically is.”

Entering the clearing that was their Sanctuary, a wave of bliss and serenity enraptured Gail. She watched Sierra placed down the box; opening the lid, a large clay pot sat inside. “Could you please fetch the tools and set of paint from the storage alcove? The paint should be labeled.”

With a nod, Gail clambered onto the ledge after using the steppingstones. Despite the lack of lighting, she could still make out most of the containers, although with slight difficulty. There was the broad container for the charms, the small containers for the drawing utensils, but the others she hadn’t seen from her first visit. She shimmied further to grab the utensils, and then inspected the other containers.

She hadn’t noticed when she leaped up here in a hurry from before, but there was a hole in the wall. Getting a closer look, it was a tunnel! She wondered if there were more of Sierra’s supplies inside, as it looked to be large enough to crawl through. Although, it seemed too much of a hassle to go in and out of the cramped tunnel just to get a piece of charcoal or set of paint.

Perusing the different containers, Gail picked each one up to inspect the labels etched either on the side or on the lid. “Threads, more fibers, some stones . . . Ah, paint!” She hauled the aptly labeled box and waddled over to the ledge. Sierra took it with gratitude as Gail hopped down with the two cups of tools.

Sierra sat in the snow, setting the clay pot on the stone slab. Its mouth’s edge was wobbly in one area, and its base had bumps and dips in several spots. “Sorry that it doesn’t look the best that it could be. I overworked and forced myself to work on this until I passed out. Still, it’s at least better than the cracked pot they used for my Cubbing.”

Gail offered Sierra a smile before placing a hand on her shoulder. “I love it. It’ll make my Cubbing feel even more special. I bet drinking anything out of that will taste like honey.”

“Oh, stop that. You’re making me blush!” Sierra giggled. She picked out a small brush from the cups and asked, “So what do you want your pot to look like?”

“Huh? But won’t the future rituals use this same pot? I don’t want others to be using something personal to me.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Sierra said. “This one’s for you to use and you only. I had a conversation with the Alphas about this and they agreed each Cubbing ritual will use a different pot each time. So come on, give me something that’s special to you.”

Gail almost blurted the word “You,” but she bit her tongue before it came out. As much as she appreciated Sierra, it’d be weird to have her paint herself on the pot. Besides, she didn’t want to have people question why Sierra made a self-portrait for Gail’s Cubbing pot.

She hummed in thought, staring off at the sky, watching the snow flutter in the wind. What did she want painted on her Cubbing pot? Her mind wandered to things she loved. It was few, she realized, that she genuinely adored with her heart. Sierra, their Sanctuary, and wolves that were not jerks to her like Quibs and Gruff and Reckles. Then her thoughts drifted to recent events. The Thetas, upcoming cubs, Higher Beings. She didn’t know if the first two would fit her Cubbing pot, but to have Higher Beings bless her pot with their elegance. . . .

Gail looked at Sierra, smiling. “I want you to paint ferals on my Cubbing pot.” She half-expected Sierra to look confused by her request, or worse get mad at her. Instead, Sierra’s eyes sparkled with delight as an eager grin made her look all the more adorable.

“I’ll make this the best paintwork you’ll ever lay your eyes on,” Sierra promised.

“Hm, I don’t know.” Gail looked at the wall where her terrible portrait of Sierra remained. “You could always add onto that. It’ll look marginally better because there’s my work for comparison.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, Gail.” She playfully jabbed at Gail’s thigh with a chuckle. “I already have something planned for that wall to complement your lovely painting of me. I probably won’t be able to get to it until after your Cubbing, though. There’s some finishing touches I also want to work on another project.”

“Oh, your other secret project?”

Sierra nodded as she dipped her brush in the paint as dark as the night sky. “It’s something Terra ordered me to have made. I’m surprised when she told me her request and what it’s for, and you probably won’t even think it’s from her orders.” Before Gail could question her, Sierra looked up at her and said, “You’ll find out what it is when you see it.”

Gail closed her mouth, but it wouldn’t stay like that for long. Sierra’s response didn’t answer all of the questions poking in her mind. “Don’t you feel even a little angry?”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“An Alpha is ordering you to make something. You’re doing all the hard work to prepare for my Cubbing all by yourself. I’ve already seen how the Gammas and your father treat you for being the rank that you are, but all they do is lick themselves while you work throughout the night for something as important as a Cubbing ritual. I mean, we wouldn’t be able to have my Cubbing if it weren’t for your new pot, right?”

Sierra stopped painting. She stared silently at her creation, before planking her brush on the cup’s mouth. “I’d be lying if I said I don’t get upset by being belittled by them, but I’m not gonna be loud about it. I still get fed, protection, and someplace to sleep. It’s not perfect. I’m not naïve to the horrible parts of the pack, but they keep me alive. That’s all I can expect of them.”

Gail blinked. She never thought Sierra would see how she saw the pack. Sierra never made it evident, and now Gail felt sorry for inflating her perception of Sierra’s innocence.

Sierra huffed. Despite her solemn tone, she looked back at Gail with a soft smile. “Want me to cook your dinner later?”