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After Sir Thorn had given lengthy training time to Finbar, teaching him all sorts of increasingly more advanced combat techniques, the exhausted apprentice returned back home to camp.

‘Home… yes,’ he thought fondly. ‘It is really awesome to finally have a place to call home now. No longer wandering, and no being alone.’

He was certain that he still had yet to prove himself fully to every individual in the Isolation Pack, but he had done enough for the day; Finbar was accepted enough that the people who had lived here for generations no longer scowled at him or reeled back in judgment when they saw him out and about.

The wolf-dog was merging with the wolves, and every day he gradually became more and more like them; a metamorphosis that was beyond warmly welcomed by Finbar. As his mentor had said, he had a long way to go, but the proud father was all in for the long haul.

One day, he would wake up and realize how much of a true wolf he had become. He was resolute that, when that day eventually dawned, he would make his late mother proud to look down upon her lost son. In fact, maybe if she could see him now then she was happy that he was no longer ‘lost’.

It was late afternoon. Once Finbar had returned home, he immediately went back to his family’s moss-lined den. That place never ceased to be a comfortable retreat for him from the rest of the world; no one else could enter or use it, it was their private abode to do with as they wished. Willow was a great home-maker, tidying it up every day and making sure everything was in its proper place.

Finbar entered the den, passing through some developing lichen that hung down. The first thing he saw was the ashy dark brown she-wolf named Luna sitting beside Willow, and his mate herself carefully, thoroughly bathing Sugarloaf. Ashen and Moonlily were already polished up and quite clean, so he knew they had already been bathed.

Willow squeaked. “Hello there. Welcome back.”

“Thanks,” Finbar smiled, still a little out of breath from his training and from the speed at which he had rushed home. “Hey, I’m hoping we can get a bite to eat when we go out later, by the way. I’m seriously looking forward to those pack benefits.”

Willow responded, a joyful expression on her face. “Oh, yes, I have that planned.”

Luna seemed noticeably displeased at his presence, especially at his hungry comment, but she chose to say nothing if she did feel that way.

“Great,” Finbar sighed in relief, then went to sit beside her leafy nest. He sniffed his pups one by one, their clean and milky scents swirling around in his nose. “Are we ready to go now?”

“Yes, I was just finishing up Ashen’s bath,” Willow continued licking, “It’s best to do that so Luna doesn’t have stinky puppies to look after while we’re gone.”

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Finbar let out a chuckle, glancing at the ashy brown wolf for her reaction. Luna seemed amused at the comment, but to the wolf-dog it felt forced. Something seemed to be on the mind of the Alpha’s mate, but he had no idea what it could be. He had the feeling it was about him, though, given how much she hated his guts.

Once the light-brown furred mother had cleaned all of her babies entirely, she tucked them into their nest and stood up to go to Finbar. Turning her head back, she said to Luna, “Thank you for watching them.”

“It is no trouble,” Luna smiled subtly, going into a lying down position. She was tired and wore it on her face.

Willow wasted no time in leaving the den, excited to catch a break from motherhood for a little while. Finbar knew she loved their children, but everyone needed a self-care day; that was why it was good to be around family who could step in to help whenever they were needed. Finbar had learned that a pack was not only nice, but invaluable in that way.

Once they were outside the den, Willow and Finbar walked alongside each other toward the thick evergreen woodland. The scent of pine sap filled the air, and the song of evening birds cooed through the branches.

“So what did you have in mind, Willow?” Finbar asked.

“Come and see,” his mate smiled and began to lead him away hurriedly, excitedly, into the woods. He followed closely behind.

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They had walked a short distance from the camp when Finbar smelled a horrible, yet familiar, stench. Stepping through the underbrush, twigs snapping under his roughened paws, he abided close to his mate as they made their way out of the woods and into a clearing. In said clearing, there was a moderately strong stream; the trees offered shade on the banks of the water.

The colors that shone around them were reds, purples and blues; the majestic, calming hues of the day’s end. They rippled on the stream’s surface, images of light ever-changing. Here, the bad smell was strongest; then he saw her.

It was Gill, resting beside the waterway.

“Gill?” he said to her, pleasantly surprised.

“Finbar!” The old wolf beamed when she saw him.

Willow giggled. “Surprise. Gill told me what you did for her, she told everyone, in fact.”

Finbar perked up his ears, concerned. “Did you get in trouble?” he asked.

Gill shook her head, a fly buzzing around her face. “No, honey, they only know you gave me your share.”

“I had Sorley take her here to wait for us,” Willow explained, “because we’re going to give her a much needed bath.”

“Oh?” Finbar smiled. “Yes, she needs it. I was initially a bit upset that she’d been left this way, it’s clearly been a long time.”

“It has been,” Willow agreed, “and that shouldn’t be. I had a talk with my father today about it. He said he wouldn’t let her condition get this bad again, things have just been busy for him so it slipped his mind.”

“It’s alright, dear, your father has a lot bigger things to worry about than an old lady,” Gill said with a sweet voice, ears down. “I hear there has been more activity from the humans than normal lately, by the highway to the west.”

Finbar felt an uncomfortable twinge. “Really? That’s not great news.”

Willow nudged him. “It happens, it’s not the first time. They’re probably scouting the edge of our land for resources. They don’t come in the mountains, though; only hikers really do that.”

It still did not sit right with Finbar. “I don’t like them being close to us at all, but I’ll take your word for it.”

Gill laughed hoarsely. “I don’t think anyone likes them being near us.”

Willow put her paw on Finbar’s shoulder. “Come on! Let’s get started,” she said amiably, then rushed to Gill’s side. The light-brown she-wolf began pushing her gently into the stream, a sort of estuary where the water was not overtaken by a rough current but was calm enough for a frail elder to wade at elbow height.

“That Sorley, he’s a nice young lad,” the silver she-wolf rasped.