park’s between four and five hours from Wythe Clanhome, maybe three and a half from here. That’s assuming you can get your new wolf into the panel truck and he doesn’t freak. If he does, well, everything will take a lot longer. I brought a map and some other gear.”
Cullen pulled a folded map from his jacket pocket and spread it on the ground. He glanced at the new wolf, who kept interrupting his meal to growl at Cullen—warning growls, not seriously aggressive, so Rule ignored it. “I talked to Mason,” Cullen said, naming the Nokolai who had charge of the new wolves at the terra tradis, “so I’d have some idea how to act. I’ve never worked with brand-new wolves. You did, though.”
Rule nodded. That experience was coming in handy now. Rule had spent one season working with Mason. It had been frustrating, exhilarating, funny, infuriating, and at times great fun—new wolves were teenagers, after all.
Or had been until this one arrived. Rule glanced at the other, then polished off his meal and shifted to study the map.
“This is Bald Eagle,” Cullen said, pointing, “just north of I-80. We’ll look for Walter south of the lake. You think the new one will tolerate four hours in the van with me so close?”
Rule couldn’t shrug in this form, so he snorted. How could he know? New wolves were introduced to clan members’ two-legged forms early on, but not in the cramped confines of a panel truck, not for hours at a time, and always with older adolescents around to demonstrate proper behavior and adults to enforce it. But it was worth trying. So far, the wolf that had been Ruben Brooks was handling himself very well.
Rule looked pointedly at the duffel bag.
“Right. Guess we’ll find out.” Cullen pulled a collapsible water bowl out of the duffle bag, then a gallon jug of water. He filled the bowl. “José didn’t think I should take a vehicle registered in your name, so I bought the panel truck for cash from a guy who’d advertised in the paper. Your cash, of course. You didn’t get a very good deal, but I was in a hurry.”
Rule nodded and went to the water bowl.
Cullen waited until he finished, refilled the bowl, then backed off again, but only ten feet. There was a brief clash of wills as the new wolf tried to get Cullen to go away and Rule insisted that Cullen was his to direct, not the new wolf ’s. Eventually the new wolf accepted that and drank.
This didn’t mean he’d accept it the next time. Or the next. The wolf had no instinctive understanding of Cullen except as threat or prey, and it took time and repetition to create a new role—lupi, one of us, never mind the form—in the wolf ’s mind. Once he began remembering being a man himself, though, that lesson would stick better. Once he’d Changed a few times, it would be solid.
It took much longer for a wolf to stop seeing humans as potential prey. Four or five years, usually. Oh, most new wolves were able to restrain themselves long before that, but forbidden food is still food. They were kept away from humans except in controlled circumstances until their first response to the smell of humanity was people, not meat.
How long would it be before Ruben could live with his beautiful Deborah again?
Rule shook that thought off. Worrying about things he couldn’t change was foolish.
The other wolf had finished drinking. He stood still and taut, sniffing the air warily, glancing frequently at Rule. That wasn’t typical. With a full belly and no immediate danger, most new wolves would be looking for sleep or play or some interesting scent to track. Was the difference a matter of this one being older? Or was it the way he’d been brought into this form, unprepared and surrounded from the first with what he considered threats instead of clan?
No way of knowing. Rule collected the new wolf with a glance, and the two of them trotted into the trees. They relieved themselves, then Rule had a good roll in the leaves. It felt good, it smelled good, and he wanted to take some of the scents of the forest with him into the metal cage-on-wheels Cullen would be driving.
The plan was to get the other wolf to follow Rule into the back of the panel truck. The bratwurst should help. Rule didn’t know a wolf who wouldn’t salivate over that smell.