“Don’t worry, it’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Finbar comforted his children.

Ashen had woken up, half due to being nudged awake by his father. He yawned and listened attentively. “Yes, Dad?” he asked. “What is it?”

Finbar sat up straight, ears perked and tail curled around his big paws. “You, my little ones, are very special.”

“Special?” Moonlily giggled. Now that he thought about it, his introduction to the subject really did come off as silly.

Finbar paused for a moment, blinked, and then went on. “I mean to say that you are different. You three are the result of me and your mother; we are both wolf and dog mixes. This means that you are, too.”

Ashen tilted his head. “Yea, so?” he asked.

The white wolf-dog was taken aback by the question, and responded with a smile: “We live in a pack of pureblooded wolves, while we are a family of half-breeds.”

Sugarloaf seemingly had no reaction, as if she was heavily confused as to why this was something their mother had been unsure of speaking about.

Ashen sat silently too for a second, then narrowed his golden eyes at Finbar with concern. “I don’t know why that’s such a bad thing to talk about,” he said. “What does it matter?”

Moonlily watched curiously. She wanted to know, too.

Finbar was surprised by such an intelligent response from the very young pup. “It’s a bit complicated, buddy,” he replied softly.

The grayish-brown pup lowered his ears, clearly still not content with the answer. “But, why?”

Willow reached her paw out to him as a gesture of love. “It’s not something you need to concern yourself with,” she assured her son. No doubt memories of being the pack’s outcast as a young one were moving through her head; the light brown she-wolf did not want the same fate to befall her children, for it was so mething painful.

‘She probably does not even want them to have the notion that they are different from everyone else,’ Finbar sighed quietly, empathizing with his mate’s fears. ‘Willow, they need to know. They will know eventually. It’s best to tell them now, when we can be their support, when we can guide them with love.’

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

Ashen yipped insistently. “I’m brave enough to handle it, Ma. I wanna know what I am.”

Finbar perked his ears proudly. “Well,” he breathed deeply, “I am pleased that you are such a mature pup for your age.”

Ashen seemed pleased to hear that, his eyes sparkling because his father had just spoken approvingly of him.

Moonlily stayed silent with her sister Sugarloaf, just watching and listening. They were actually just as curious as their brother, but they stayed back and let him do all the belaboring.

“So,” the son of the white apprentice barked expectantly. “What am I?”

Willow flattened her ears uncomfortably.

Bruno stared in perfect quietness, not even chewing food, knowing and feeling just how important this moment was for the family.

The wolf-dog held eye contact with his son. “It is complicated because of the way pack structure and tradition works,” he said plainly, not holding back or hesitating. “Wolves tend to stick with other wolves. This is to keep their bloodline pure, and thus preserve their species. Dogs stick with other dogs, and so preserve themselves. When a wolf and dog meet and make puppies, the offspring are caught between two worlds, and live with clashing instincts.”

“What does instinct mean?” Ashen tilted his head. He was pleased with the transparent answer his dad had given, very much so in fact. He was relieved, even, that his family was finally taking him seriously and informing him of what he should know.

“It is a force within you, in your blood, that determines the way you act, think and feel,” Finbar explained sturdily.

“Don’t I decide that?”

“Yes, but… it’s deeper than that, my boy. Blood is everything. This is why it’s so complicated; I am mixed, your mother is mixed, even Bruno is mixed. You three will act in ways that are not purely wolf-like, and this may or may not upset the pack we live in,” Finbar spoke calmly, lovingly, his paw on the gray-brown pup’s shoulder, “but I do not want you to let it bother you when it happens. The same goes for Moonlily and Sugarloaf. You guys may not be entirely wolves, but that doesn’t mean you are bad or worthless. You are beautiful. What matters is your heart.”

Ashen grumbled, lowering his head, looking to the side. “I don’t wanna be different, though.”

Finbar licked his forehead. “Ash, in a way, we’re all different. Dogs, wolves, bears, cats, and foxes; the feeling of isolation only comes when we are mixed into the same group together. Eventually our bloodline will be absorbed into the pure wolves, the dog side of us disappearing over time. What your mother and I are doing is assimilating to their culture, and becoming one with it. That is our goal. Only one side of you can be dominant, but which one is up to you. You must learn to conquer yourself, and be who you want to be, even if it goes against whatever particular instinct you feel at any given time.”

“Aye,” Bruno added, sitting down and wagging his tail. “I’m part border collie, Ash. A farm dog, one that works with the humans; but here I am, choosing to live as a fox. For all intents and purposes, I am a fox. So, are you a wolf?”

Ash leaped out of his father’s arms and puffed out his chest before the wild fox. “I’m a wolf!” the boy shouted proudly, then promptly let out his mightiest howl.