They weren’t dire wolves. That much I could tell immediately from size alone. None of the wolves stood taller than waist high. They appeared bulkier though, but that could just be a result of their puffed-out coats, which were all shades of white or gray.

A wolf larger than the rest pushed to the fore. The alpha. His fur was the color of snow and his eyes, arctic blue. Coming to a stop a few feet from me, he sat down on his haunches and studied me quizzically.

I stood still under the alpha’s inspection, waiting.

A drawn-out moment passed. Then another.

“Hello brother,” I whispered finally.

The alpha tilted his head to the side but didn’t respond.

I frowned. Did he not hear me?

The wolf raised his snout and sniffed.

An arctic wolf has recognized your Wolf Mark!

A second later, an image was pushed into my mind’s eye. It was me. But not me as I saw myself. This picture was strangely distorted. My canines were longer, and my features were distinctly lupine…

It was how the alpha saw me. He is trying to communicate, I realized. He can’t talk. Not like the dire wolves can.

Another image appeared in my mind—that of a giant wolf. The new image superimposed itself on the first and the two merged, transforming the picture of wolflike-me into that of a wolf-with-human-eyes.

The alpha raised his head to stare at me, an expectant look in his eyes.

“That’s me,” I agreed cautiously.

The alpha lowered his head in satisfaction. While I was uncertain he understood my words, I sensed he grasped the meaning behind them. A moment later, I felt the image flash across the minds of the rest of the pack as the alpha shared his thoughts with them.

In response, the wolves raised their heads and howled.

No images accompanied the sound, but in the chorus of their voices, I sensed… acceptance. My brows crinkled in confusion. What are they trying to say? Why would—

My thoughts broke off.

The wolves were lowering themselves to the ground. My eyes jerked back to the alpha. He, too, was on his belly. It was a surprising display of submissiveness, and for one stunned second, I was speechless with shock.

The arctic wolves of sector 107 have recognized your authority as a scion of House Wolf, and the pack alpha has temporarily surrendered leadership of the pack to you.

~~~

My emotions were in turmoil.

Disbelief and unease warred with happiness. I was overjoyed the pack had accepted me but shocked that they had raised me above even their alpha. I stared at the white wolf. “Why?” I blurted.

There was no response, nothing but serene acceptance, a sense that this was the right order of things.

I measured the wolf’s resolve. There was no hint of doubt or regret to his emotions. I sighed. There would be no changing the alpha’s mind, I suspected. Reaching out with my will, I analyzed him.

The target is a level 108 arctic wolf and alpha of the pack.

Arctic wolves are a rare breed of wolves that have evolved to survive in some of the harshest and coldest regions of the Forever Kingdom. Tougher and hardier than most wolfkin, they can go days without eating and run all day and all night if necessary.

I studied the encircling wolves again. The rest of the pack were of a similar level to the alpha. Strangely, there were no elders nor pups. Every wolf was of fighting age. “Is this the entire pack?” I asked, turning back to the white wolf.

Fleeting sadness touched the wolf’s thoughts.

It was answer enough and I didn’t probe further. The tundra was not a forgiving place. One of the things that had puzzled me early on was how the wasteland’s denizens survived. Then I’d realized that most probably didn’t.

The tundra lacked vegetation and the only beasts that seemed to inhabit it were predators. To survive the denizens surely had to feed on each other. Even then, I suspected the beasts’ attrition rate was high, and left little chance for their weak, old, and young to survive, much less flourish. In fact, it was likely that the only reason there were any creatures to find on the tundra was because the Game repopulated the sector daily.

I considered the pack again. It was a large one, numbering thirty wolves in total. How can I take care of so many? I wondered worriedly. I was not exactly thriving myself.

But the thought of abandoning the wolves did not cross my mind. They had made me their leader—if for no other reason than I was a scion of House Wolf—and it was my responsibility now to see the pack fed and to give them a chance to prosper.

I sighed, feeling the mantle of leadership settle on me. “Up,” I commanded, and the thirty wolves, still on their bellies, rose smoothly to their feet. The day was still young, and it was time to get moving again.

And besides, I had thirty more mouths to feed.

~~~

Without needing to be told, the wolves formed a large screen around the sled, the groups on the left and right flanks ranging so far as to be barely visible. Only the alpha stayed at my side.

Every so often, he would glance up at me as if waiting for a command, or glance back at the sled and sniff hungrily. Undoubtedly, the pack smelled my frozen store of meat, but quite conspicuously, they kept their distance. If, come nightfall, we failed to find game, I would share my supplies with the pack, but as far as possible I wanted to keep my stores intact.

My concerns about the pack’s ability to feed itself proved unfounded, though.

An hour before nightfall, in response to a howl from the wolves ranging ahead, the alpha stiffened. Drawing to a stop myself, I glanced at the wolf in concern. I couldn’t decipher the message in the howl, but I was sure it contained some kind of warning.

After a moment, the alpha turned to me and pushed a single image into my mind: a picture of two saber tooth cats. A hint of question followed.

I grinned at the white wolf. “Let’s go get them.”

~~~

Hunting with the wolves was different.

The pack had their own methods, ones that played to their strengths, and rather than impose my own techniques, I let the alpha take the lead.

Stretched out flat in the snow, and with psi held at the ready, I watched the wolves slink towards their prey. The two big cats were aware of the pack’s presence. Drawing together, they growled in warning at the circling wolves.

The saber tooths out-massed the wolves appreciably, and individually, the wolves were no match for their prey. But the pack had numbers—and cunning.

Two wolves rushed in—the alpha and another just as large—provoking a response from one of the cats which took a swipe at them. The wolves were too fast, though, and dashed away unharmed.

A second pair darted in, repeating the same maneuver. Again, the cats chased them away.

The pack’s tactics were obvious. They were attempting to separate their prey, but it was a dangerous game they played. The cats were too agile to be thwarted for long, and sooner or later, one of the wolves would get struck.

Time to pitch in.

Releasing the psi I held, I cast slaysight.

You have terrified your target for 10 seconds.

Howling in terror, one of the cats took off running. Wolves scattered, letting the senselessly fleeing cat past. The second cat, suddenly abandoned, roared at her mate, but the bespelled creature paid her no mind.

The pack alpha turned about to stare at me. Somehow, he’d sensed what I’d done. Drawing my blades, I rose to my feet, and gestured him forward. “Go, finish her.”

~~~

A few minutes later, both saber tooth cats were dead.

The male cat had returned the moment his fear had dissipated, but by then it had been too late to save his mate. With my help, the pack had dispatched the pair easily, and I could still feel the alpha’s surprise at how quickly the deed had been managed.

Sitting down cross-legged, I watched the wolves feast on the remains. The pack had waited for my say-so before digging in, but now they fed with gusto.

Observing the pack, I felt a deep sense of satisfaction. Thanks to my help, all the wolves had escaped injury. With a start, I realized, too, that the despair that had become my constant companion since entering the tundra had lifted. Normally my days passed torturously slow while I counted off my steps and my fears replayed in my mind.

Not so today.

Today, I had been… content.

The hours had passed almost unnoticed. And it was not just from the change in routine. It was the wolves. The pack with their presence alone had soothed my unease.

It was good to have company. To not be alone.

Sensing my mood, the alpha broke away from the feast and, sitting beside me, rested his head on his paws, a silent sentry—and companion.

Greatly daring, I ran my hand through his coat. “Snow,” I murmured. “I shall call you, Snow.”

The alpha’s only response was indifferent acceptance.

Smiling, I stared off into the tundra. And for the first time, the prospect of being stuck in the sector didn’t seem so bad. I had a pack now, and that made all the difference.

Perhaps, I mused, at long last, my fortunes are changing.