Greg came to his senses alone, in the snow and stark naked. It was still dark. He groaned a soft curse and hurried to turn wolf, which at least meant he was no longer at risk of freezing. Just hungry. And in pain. And lost.

Oh, how he hated full moon.

He tried to raise his head and howl for help, for someone to give him an idea which direction he needed to go to find the pack again. He barely managed more than a whine, and it burned like acid in his throat.

He must have been close enough that someone heard him anyway, because he did get an answer. He limped towards the sound. As long as he didn’t try to run, moving didn’t hurt too much, but the paw was certainly not fully healed.

After just a little distance, he caught a scent which the wolf knew to be from Pierre, and he followed that back to the caves where the pack resided during the winter.

There you are, Gertrude greeted him just outside, and he followed her through the narrow entrance into the small system of caverns. He had to crouch low onto his belly, which made walking extremely painful, to get through the rather low opening. Luckily, after a few yards the cave opened up and he could move normally again.

You’re last, Gertrude informed him.

Greg just limped onwards. The rest of the pack were already gathered around the fire pit in the biggest cave, which had a sort of natural chimney, so they weren’t choking in the smoke. The thing that really made Greg feel better though was the smell of sizzling meat. Pierre was already busy cooking.

Sun, but Greg was hungry. All he had eaten since the attack was honey and chips of ice. Hopefully, his throat was healed enough by now that he could chew and swallow something more solid.

“Ah, Greg,” Pierre welcomed him. “Come in, come in. How’s the foot?”

Greg shrugged, which made Pierre frown.

“We really need to work on your conversational skills.”

Some of the other werewolves sniggered, so Greg hobbled over to them and shook the remaining snow out of his fur. Then he moved into the corner in the back where his clothes were stashed.

By the time he had managed to put at least a sock over his injured foot, Pierre was handing out steaks. Most of the others just ripped out chunks of hot meat with their teeth, but Greg didn’t want to put that kind of strain on his throat yet, so he cut off small pieces to chew slowly and thoroughly.

“The food’s okay?” Pierre asked.

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Greg nodded. Swallowing still hurt and he didn’t want to make it worse by talking, but when he tasted the meat, he couldn’t stop himself from asking: “Salt?”

“Lee showed us where it was in your pack,” Pierre explained. “I hope you don’t mind.”

The pack ate mostly in silence. Greg supposed that after a decade or two of living together and little contact to others, there really wasn’t much left to say.

Indeed, Gertrude complained once she had finished eating: “We need to teach him to communicate as a wolf. I bet he’s got some good stories to tell. You’ve read books and stuff, right? New ones?”

Greg nodded, still chewing slowly on a bit of his second steak. It was cold, but still nice. He swallowed carefully and asked. “Lee?”

“Oh, he’s way too far away,” Pierre said. “No, we haven’t heard anything from him. But that was to be expected.”

Greg nodded. He’d known that, of course, but he still would have liked some news. Some confirmation that these injuries weren’t completely pointless.

“Anyone else?” he rasped. “What about – Red?”

“You really shouldn’t talk,” Pierre admonished him. “No, there’ve been no news from the Red. I’m pretty sure he hasn’t moved, either. Can’t be entirely certain, the distance being what it is – but no, I don’t think he’s coming our way yet.”

Greg let his head sag.

“You’re going to have to make do with me.”

Pierre’s whole face crinkled even more when he smiled, making him look like a very old, shrunken apple. “We talked about it, while you were unconscious. Lee told us all about the first battle the humans won. I’m too old to go tooth and claw against the Rot, but I can certainly sit around a castle on new moon and watch the humans do the heavy lifting themselves.”

Greg stared at the elder blankly. He wanted to laugh with relief, but that would hurt too much, and he had no idea what to say.

This was – this was huge! A second elder powerful enough to help others transform even on new moon?

“Thanks,” he finally said.

Pierre just smiled again. “Can’t start moving until Lee and Edith get back,” he went on. “They might not make it until spring, depending on the weather.”

That dampened Greg’s mood a little. He might need to leave earlier than that. If he was able to walk. Or could he send a message?

For tonight though, he just leaned back against the wall of the cave. He had almost dozed off when Pierre looked around at his pack and wordlessly got up. Greg blinked when everybody else followed the elder, who was taking off his clothes. One after another, the werewolves slipped outside.

Greg swore softly and limped after them on his socks, to see where they were going. He was surprised to see that they stopped right outside the cave.

It was still mostly dark outside, though the sun was probably just about to rise. It was hard to tell, with the snow falling in heavy flakes from the thick clouds.

The pack formed a half-circle, flanking Pierre left and right. While Greg still wondered what was going on, they threw their heads back and began to sing.

There was no other word for it: They were all howling, but there was an unexpected harmony to it, a haunting melody. They even had different pitches, like a small choir.

Greg wrapped his arms around himself, shivering in the cold, but made no move to duck back into the cave. There was no way he could have moved. The pack’s music was beautiful, and it had completely transfixed the werewolf part of him. He felt that if he could only just join in, he would really become part of this amazing pack. He almost did, and damn his mangled throat. It took all his human willpower to stop himself.

The pack sung until the sun had fully risen. Greg was so cold by then, he couldn’t even feel his bad foot when he limped back inside.