suffering, her wolf instincts knew exactly what to do. As soon as the hunters returned to the camp, Jenni breathed in the wind, pulling the taste of the falling night over her tongue. She caught the scent of animal life waking up all around her, though nothing large enough to suit her purposes. The presence of men had scared all of the large game away. But there was a trace there . . . a whisper . . .
Jenni lifted her face to the rising moon and sang out. She called to the gray wolf’s pack, and to any others who would help her. She sang of need and love, and of a desire to help.
Far away, echoing over the mountains, there came an answer. Distant, but drawing nearer. Help would come before the night was through.
With that promise in her heart, Jennilee took off through the forest. With long, distance-eating strides, she chased that whisper of a scent. Every step made hope blossom larger in her chest. This would work. She knew it.
Hours later, she’d found the small herd of deer that had piqued her interest. Her help had arrived as well. It was not the pack of the gray wolf, but rather a small pack of only two wolves: a mated pair. They were young and eager. Jenni couldn’t have said how, because language as she knew it just didn’t apply, but she was able to communicate her quandary, and the pair of them were pleased to help her in return for a share of her hunt. Together, the three of them cut a young doe and her fawn from the herd. The pair of wolves watched Jenni with eyes filled with curiosity (though not hostility) as she changed form and began to dress the doe. They shared the fawn between them, and were more than happy with the arrangement. Jenni took the doeskin and bound it around the meat. While not a perfect solution, this made a bundle that she could carry with her jaws.
Jennilee started back toward the company’s campsite, then stopped suddenly as the pair of wolves started to follow her. She looked back at them in inquiry.
We would come with you, the female said. The line of her body was friendly, and intrigued. Taking man shape is an interesting trick. We would stay with you and see you do more interesting things.
Jenni considered. Her biggest concern was, of course, that the wolves would either threaten or be in danger from the humans she proposed to help. Once again, she remembered the gray wolf’s warnings.
We have seen men before. We know how to not be detected. And we will not harm any who do not harm us first, the male assured her with a dipped head and a bump to her shoulder.
Come then, Jenni acquiesced. And be welcome.
* * *
—
Dawn crept over the tops of the trees as Jenni finally drew near to the camp. She slunk, belly low in the mud and remaining snow. Her nose told her that someone was awake, working on starting a fire to boil water. The scent pulled at a memory that she hadn’t known she had: hands, warm and firm, holding her close. Safety.
Ina.
Jenni squinted in the increasing light, and lifted her nose to the air. If she could get Ina alone . . .
“J-Jennilee?”
Jenni’s head snapped up, and her eyes met the wide, terror-filled eyes of her mother. Jenni straightened from her crouch, her head above Ina’s waist. Ina took a step backward in fear. Jenni opened her mouth and dropped the bundle of meat between them. Jenni was about to change, to take her human form once more and hug her mother, when the unmistakable sound of a rifle shot cracked through the morning air.
“Ina! Get down!”
Jenni didn’t wait to hear more; she spun and fled as fast as her four feet could carry her. She heard Ina’s voice crying out, calling her name, but the safety of the trees beckoned, and before the rifleman could reload, she was gone.
* * *
—
Her new packmates waited for her. Together, they hunkered down in the den site, and gradually calmed Jenni’s