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Mt. Isolation, White Mountain National Forest, New Hampshire. The summer of early June, 2021.
It had been a long, harrowing month of dedicated combat training, and yet it still felt as though Finbar had such an extensive path ahead of him before he mastered any sort of techniques.
He had so much respect for Sir Thorn, his reticent yet highly honorable mentor. That gray wolf had taught him many things in the last few weeks, including how to dodge effectively, and how to counter attack. All very useful things that Finbar may end up needing in the future.
In the beginning, the wolf-dog apprentice was often sore and hurting after his training sessions, but now after such a long time he had grown accustomed to the exertion. His body had adapted, and was much stronger for it.
The Alpha Balto had expressed his gratitude for helping Gill when she was alive, and Finbar was happy that his relationship with his father-in-law was improving ever so steadily.
Ashen and his sisters had grown exponentially, now able to run around and play and even speak. Finbar loved this stage of their development, developing a closer bond with them at each interaction. Ashen had a bit of an attitude, like his mother, as predicted. Moonlily and Sugarloaf were still laid back, but something was different about Sugarloaf; she was a lot more reserved than her litter-mates, and chose not to speak.
At least, he reasoned that she chose not to. It was possible that she simply couldn’t speak, but that stung him deep in his heart, for he did not want her to have such a disability. That would break him for her.
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In the early morning of what would soon be a sweltering summer day, mentor and apprentice met in the Birches once more, as they did like clockwork at every rising of the blazing sun. They began to spar, learning from one another, figuratively bandaging up mistakes and celebrating successes.
A well-hidden pair of watchful, scornful emerald eyes peered at them from above in the rocky outcroppings. It was Luna, her ashy dark brown pelt rippling in the cool breeze. The leaves of the birches and the oak trees danced and sang a song, belting against one another in a chorus of foliage.
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Orange sprays of sunlight trickled like a stream through the trees, casting an elaborate pattern on everything it covered.
Sitting beside the Alpha’s mate was her nephew Jargoth, his red fur turned dark in the dawn, his fur tips carrying a golden sheen to them. “I hate that fucker,” he whispered sharply, his ears flattened against the back of his head.
“As do I,” Luna responded quietly.
“Is it time yet? We have been coming here almost every damn day to watch him, and I want him dead already. The pain of losing Willow, and my pride torn to pieces, is too much to bear.”
“I believe it is time, my son. However, we will not be killing him.”
Jargoth snorted in surprise, and disappointment. He patiently waited for her to explain things to him, though. Luna may have been Jargoth’s aunt, but she was also the only mother figure he had in his life. His biological mother, Luna’s sister, had died when he was born; she had bled out during the birthing process, so the male had never been able to know her. While one of the other mothers had nursed him, the red furred wolf’s bond was tightly encapsulated with his adoptive mother, and he was so exceedingly thankful.
She was barren and her womb would never produce young of her own, so therefore Jargoth was the son she had never been blessed enough to have. He needed to succeed, for her bloodline depended on it. Luna would make sure that her blood ended up in the line of the Alpha wolves if it was the last thing she ever did. That was mainly all that mattered to her at this point, as it was her desperation driving her. She was getting older, and had much less time left to secure her dreams into reality.
The plan had to be acted upon as soon as possible.
The she-wolf went on to explain: “It has been long enough to where the pack will not suspect it was our doing. In their minds, if an incident with him were to happen, it would have happened almost immediately after Finbar joined us.”
She narrowed her eyes, never taking her intense stare off the troubling white wolf-dog. “Do you know what you must do?” she asked.
“Aye,” Jargoth clawed and kneaded the ground eagerly. “I will talk to him after his training, and make amends for the hostility I have shown. After he is more comfortable around me, I will offer to show Finbar around the human edge of the territory. There, I will show him the Highway. Is this correct?”
“Affirmative,” she smirked. “I will tell my husband that this was my idea that you try your best to establish a relationship with Finbar, taking most of the suspicion off of you. The pack will believe me, I am of high reputation with them. When the wolf-dog has his guard down, you shall push him off the cliff down into oncoming traffic. Be wary, though; do not get him killed if you can help it, I am grateful for his help with my family member. That is my ‘thank you’, that he is allowed to live. Finbar will be captured by humans due to his lack of street-smarts, for no amount of combat training could suffice in a situation such as that. He will be moved out of our way. You will fulfill your mission today, my son. Let us get out of here, before they notice us.”
Jargoth nodded and stood up, lashing his tail. “We go.”
Together the two turned tail and ran off into the woodland.