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The white wolf-dog approached and stood at the shore. “He’s been nice to me, too,” he commented.

“Sorley and I go way back,” the caring mother vigorously rubbed all the nasty, caked fur of the elder underwater. “I grew up with him. Back in those days, people didn’t think too highly of me because of my heritage being half chinook, half wolf. Sorley was my friend when everyone else was too hesitant to be, and his cheerfulness and acceptance taught me that I don’t need to be bitter about what people thought of me. People are people, and they just need to be shown who you truly are, then they will come around.”

Finbar tilted his head. “They treated the daughter of the Alpha like an outcast?” he asked, a bit jarred by the revelation.

“Well, not exactly,” Willow explained. “They would never dare mistreat me, no, but I could tell that they silently judged me. Before me, there had never been a wolf-dog in the pack; only my mother, a full-blooded dog, had lived here with my dad, but humans caught her and you know the rest. The pack had been unsure of her either, but when humans came to our territory over her, that must have been the switch that flipped in their brains to dislike all non-pure wolves. I think mothers taught their pups to avoid making friends with me, and the only one who didn’t listen at the time was Sorley.”

“Sorley is a dear to everyone,” Gill chimed in.

Finbar smiled warmly at the idea of his mate having not been so lonely after all. “He is a good man,” he said. “Quickly he has been my friend, too.”

“Oh, definitely, he really likes you,” his mate agreed.

“Gill, what was pack life like when you were a pup?” Finbar asked.

Willow eyed him in amusement.

He raised his brow in confusion at her. ‘What?’ he thought.

That’s when it started.

Finbar realized soon enough what he had just done.

Gill opened her mouth and began a long story that raced off in as many directions as the branches of a wetland river. It was good to listen to her talk, though. He had learned a lot about the place he now called his home, and that was invaluable.

“When I was a youngster, the pack was much smaller. Before Balto was born, his grandparents led as an alpha pair; the male was Fenris, and the female Morgana. They were good wolves who had traveled south from Canada, settling here in their youth. Friends had followed them, and together they called themselves family,” she explained.

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Willow said nothing, and listened; it was likely she had already heard this story many times.

Finbar had not, though, and was interested. “Why did they leave Canada?” he asked.

“I think it was a strong sense of curiosity that had burned within good old Fenris,” answered the kind elder, “because from what I heard, the wolves up in Canada were not allowed to go beyond the river. The river is the border between the United States and Canada, for your information. They could not cross, for if they did they would be shot; wolves had been driven to extinction in this land, and it was a dreadful thing to even imagine coming here. If one did, they had a death-wish. I suppose Fenris was just crazy enough to ignore all of the warnings he had been raised with, and wanted to expand where our species lived.”

“It seems he was successful,” Finbar commented. “That’s insane, though.”

Gill nodded, filth washing off of her pelt, revealing a lighter shade of glimmer upon it. “It was a success, but only partially. We are now an isolated population, unreachable by the rest of our species for hundreds of miles. Contact was cut off, as there are no safe routes for the Canadian sector to take to speak with us, nor us with them. It’s simply too far away.”

“What happened to Fenris and Morgana?” Finbar walked up, wading in the water to cool himself off, to help ease his muscles which were sore and aching from training.

“They got old and died, but they left their son Faol as the Alpha in their place, along with his mate Beithe. They ruled for a good while, then along came Balto and his siblings; Willow, did you know that your father was named after the great Balto that ran in the serum run? That one lived in a far away land called Alaska, but rumor has it that his true home was a legendary place called Ohio!” Gill exclaimed excitedly. “One would have to travel thousands of miles inland to reach it. The hero Balto was treated well by humans, given a lot of land to run around, and he even had a tree to nap beneath. He had saved human pups, and they were very grateful.”

Willow smiled, playfully rolling her eyes, cleaning Gill’s tail with her paws. “There you go, talking about Ohio again. Do you really think that place exists?”

“Of course I do!” The elder affirmed enthusiastically.

“Why didn’t grandpa Fenris just go there, instead of settling here where it’s dangerous?” Willow wondered genuinely.

“It’s too far. One must find it by heart. It’s not a place that can simply be sought after,” she responded. “A long time ago, wolves used to live there, but those days are long gone.”

“Are you pulling that out of your ass?” Willow giggled.

Gill borked at the young she-wolf. “No! This is what the elders of my time taught me, and now I am teaching you two,” she retorted with friendly emphasis, giggling back. “They say the land of Ohio is one of myths, but I am inclined to believe it's real. There is always some truth to a legend.”

Finbar nodded curtly. “Yes, I suppose that is true,” he said.

Willow stuck out her tongue at him, then continued washing the old she-wolf. From the looks of it, her bath was almost completed, and she looked so much better for it.

“After many years, Faol noticed that human activity had gradually become more and more prevalent in our area, as well as human developments and homes. Since his time, there have been less and less places to go, but I think the humans have mostly stopped at the edge of the mountains. I don’t know why, it’s like they are respecting a border, somehow,” Gill went on with the recounting of her tale. “I did not know that humans could do that, they’re very disrespectful of everything generally, especially borders… but not this time, I guess, to our benefit. Anyway, once Faol had passed away from a mysterious sickness, Balto became leader. On one of his patrol runs around the boundary of our territory, he met Willow’s mother, Savannah; she had escaped from a nearby farm, and had been wandering for a good while on her own, but Balto invited her to stay with us. Not too long after their meeting, she fell pregnant… and unfortunately-”

Willow stopped her. “I don’t like this part of the story.”