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It was a fine day for a family picnic.
Finbar was not sure what the wolves called it, but his old human had always called it a picnic; an outing to a beautiful sitting place where food was brought.
He took his one-month-old pups and his mate to his old den in the cave by the river. It was really such a great place to relax and enjoy the day the Lord had made. Willow enjoyed it because it brought back memories of their first meeting, and the beginning of their romantic relationship before the pregnancy. The passion and love in her eyes when she looked at him showed just how deep their soul tie was. Finbar felt the same way, and reciprocated her feelings with plenty of affection.
The pups were ecstatic with excitement, and their father had nearly been unable to hold them back from exploring until they made it to the rocky river den. Their instinct to go off and see that which was unknown to them was strong, especially in his brave son Ashen. The girls mostly obeyed, but Ashen was determined to resist parental orders when he felt like it.
At one point, on the way, Ashen had completely disappeared and they could not find him. Panic took their hearts, but eventually they did, discovering him digging at a rabbit burrow; he received a harsh nip to the nape of his neck for the disobedience, and so thus the pup began to shape up. He did not run off again for the remainder of the day.
His sisters laughed at him as he was punished.
“Serves him right,” Moonlily squeaked to Sugarloaf, who nodded enthusiastically in response.
Ashen whined and held his head low.
Once at the desired location, the family set up their course of food on the large, flat rocks in the shade just outside the cave entrance. Deer legs, rabbit carcass, and a side of berries carried in the form of the bush branches themselves. It had been a lot to carry but it was well worth it for such a delicious feast and a lovely afternoon.
While it was sweltering, the shade of the oak and pine trees provided enough coolness to their bodies so that they were able to feel comfortable. Sometimes, a big wind would peel through from over the roaring river, carrying with it the scent of fish and leaves, and a well-needed drop in temperature which felt like a treat. The fact that it was not constantly whipping through made them savor the coldness of the wind each time it passed.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
Once settled, the family began to eat.
Ashen and his sisters went immediately for the blueberries, their craving for natural sugar overpowering their legitimate hunger. Thankfully, they had brought a lot of the tasty, refreshing fruit; the pups were small, and would never be able to eat all of them. Finbar and Willow would get their fair share.
“They taste so yummy!” Moonlily cried with glee, shoveling the berries into her mouth quite dramatically.
Ashen chewed a mouthful of them, purple fruit juice spilling down over his lips onto the stone ground. “This was a great idea, Dad,” he barked.
The berries had indeed been Finbar’s idea, yes; he remembered them from his days as a pet dog, humans loved giving their animals various kinds of interesting treats. One of his favorites were blueberries; the white wolf-dog was overjoyed that they grew native in New Hampshire. Gathering them was easy, for their aromatic scent could not be missed; at least not for a wolf’s nose.
Finbar was absolutely famished from his intensive training with Sir Thorn, and desperately felt his body needed plenty of protein for his ripped muscles to heal and grow stronger. He dug into the tender, deep red flesh of the venison leg. He tore the skin off for better access to the tissue, blood covering his maw.
Willow ate as well, getting her own leg of meat. It looked as though it were very enjoyable for her, and Finbar was glad to have provided it. Before going on this fun little outing, Finbar and Thorn had gone out to hunt and took down a large doe. He was very grateful for the help.
When the pups were full of sweets, they rested on the ground. Their plump, berry-filled bellies distended outward. Tiredness came over them and they fell asleep rather quickly. Willow would need to clean their faces for they were filthy, but that could wait.
Having fun meant getting full of dirt and making a mess of oneself. They were parents that were alright with that.
Off in the distance, Finbar heard a low crashing sound, followed by many blaring horns. He knew those sounds anywhere; somewhere over the mountain, through the dense trees, a pair of human-operated vehicles had crashed on a road. He felt a twinge of sympathy, for he knew it almost certainly meant that someone, or all involved, had died or been severely injured.
Car crashes were absolutely no joke.
“I hadn’t realized the human world was so close by,” Finbar commented to Willow.
“Huh? Oh, yes, we’re close right now,” Willow swallowed and looked over in the direction where the sound had come from. She’d heard it, but had chosen to ignore it.
The white wolf-dog continued to stare at the ridge of the mountains around them. He silently prayed that the humans involved in the accident would be okay, that the hand of God would rest upon them. Surely not all of them were bad, right? His mind often went back and forth between feeling empathy for humans and being completely decisive that they were nothing but pure evil. It was a confusing transitional period for him, and Finbar still was not sure what to think. After the dream he’d had a while back, he had been solid in his resolve to even kill a human if they came here to his home.
He hoped that if that day ever came that he’d be ready to do it. Something in his blood yelled loudly at him that it was wrong to kill them. Was it his dog side attempting to override his wolf? Dogs had been bred for thousands of years to serve mankind, yet wolves had remained mostly untouched. His two natures were likely clashing and warring.