~Day Seven of the Migration~

I stifle a yawn, stretching deeply.

Damon had woken us ten minutes ago, and all around me, the Pack were preparing for the day.

Flare was helping Dean with his bag and checking to make sure the solar watch was still functional. We had been leaving the bag in patches of sunlight whenever we camped out for the afternoon, but you never knew.

Alarra was leading Wolf through some stretches and basic exercises to wake him up. While my brothers had mostly gotten used to their new bodies over the last few days, certain things still got them caught up. Like how the hell to do a push-up as a wolf. Luckily, Alarra seems to have taken quite the liking to Wolf, so she had no complaints about helping him figure it out.

Sam and Dean are stuffing their kills in the food basket, having just returned from a hunt. Damon had been tailing them to learn how to track.

"Everyone ready?" I ask, stretching my hind leg one last time.

Murmurs of agreement answer me and Flare picks up the food basket.

I nod, and we set out.

We drink from the river and continue our trek upstream.

Nothing really happens for a few hours. We walk and talk idly, speaking for the sake of speaking.

We break at dawn. I gulp down my fill of water, empty my bladder in the forest, then lay down on the rocky shore.

"How fuckin' far are the mountains, anyway?" Sam asks from where he is dramatically sprawled out on the shore. Dean lays directly next to him, his side aligned with Sam's back.

The size difference between the two was comical, with Sam being nearly a foot shorter than every other wolf in the Pack (excluding Wolf, but he was still growing and also still a couple of inches taller than Sam)

I huff. "Can you see mountains in the distance?"

Sam looks towards the direction we'd been travelling in. "No."

"When you can see them, we'll almost be there,"

"Good Lord!" Sam exclaims. Dean chuckles and nips at his ear teasingly. Sam bats him away with a paw.

"I did say it would be a long walk,"

Sam huffs. "A long walk is a few hours, not a few days,"

"Oh," I say, considering. "It'll be more than a few, I think..."

Sam groans, throwing his head back onto Dean's outstretched forelegs.

Flare rises from the ground, stretching. I do the same, agreeing with my Beta's silent request to get moving.

"Alright, let's go,"

We continue with our walk. So we walk. And walk.

After about an hour of silence, Alarra speaks up: "Who wants to play I Spy?"

Sam, Wolf, and Dean all immediately agree. The four of them proceed to play I Spy and, with the relatively repetitive scenery, quickly devolve into madness.

"I Spy with My Little Eye something that is green, brown, leaning away from the river at a roughly 90° angle and covered in pointy shit," Dean says.

"Ooh, ooh!" Wolf says, bonding forwards and gesturing at a pine tree that fits the description. "Is it this tree?"

Dean nods. "It is, well done,"

Wolf beams before rejoining the group.

This continues for a while. Flare, Damon and I let them have their fun and talk lowly among ourselves.

Eventually, their game tapers off, and not long after we're coming to a stop. The sun is directly above us and it's time to camp out for the rest of the day.

We return to the forest after drinking more water and eat and take care of our business. Once again, Alarra has first watch, so I fall into the Sleep Pile and pass out.

Before I know it, Dean is shaking me awake for my shift. I stand and move to sit a bit further from the group while Dean settles down to sleep some more.

I yawn before shaking my head vigorously to clear it of the cobwebs.

It's early afternoon, and the sun is high in the sky above us, shining burning rays down on the trees and riverbed.

Part of the reason we're travelling by night is to escape the heat of the daytime. As exposed as we are out near the river, nothing would keep the summer sun off of our pelts. Which would not only be unpleasant but also dangerous. Heat exposure and all of that.

Given that it's cooler and the darkness isn't a problem, nighttime is the logical time to travel. But then, most humans being asleep during the night is a nice plus.

I keep an eye on the watch and when my shift comes to an end, I wake Flare and go back to sleep for the remaining six hours.

~Day Eight of the Migration~

When we are woken for the day, the sun had already sunk behind the horizon. Over the last couple of weeks, the days had grown shorter and shorter as summer slowly drew to a close. It wouldn't be long until the trees started to change colour and shed their leaves. A few weeks, at the most.

We set out yet again, completing our 'morning' routine before continuing along our path.

And we walk.

And talk.

"And what about new wolves?" Flare asks. We were once again meandering in front of the group, and the others were talking among themselves. It was all the privacy we would get.

"I... I don't know," I breathe. "We'll just... cross that bridge when we get there. There's no rush, is there?"

"No, there isn't," Flare says. Then, he frowns. "There are settlements in the mountains, right?"

"Of course. Quite a few, actually. Mostly mining towns, if memory serves. Although, there's a logger or two,"

"Will that impact our environment?"

"It shouldn't. They only cut down trees that they grow themselves. Or at least, they should be, according to provincial law,"

Flare makes a curious sound. "Why do you know about provincial law?"

"I'm the son of a Lord, remember? Daddy dearest provided us only the very best education available," I say with an air of humour.

"And that included laws regarding logging regulation?" Flare asked, confused.

I shrug, something very difficult to do when walking on four legs. "Yes, it did. Why it did is beyond me though, so don't ask,"

"I wasn't-" I give him a flat look. Flare sighs. "Yeah okay I won't,"

I hum, and that's that.

We walk.

And walk.

And walk.

We take our sunrise break, drinking water and relieving ourselves.

"Why are we going to the mountains, anyway?" Wolf asks me, kicking a loose pebble into the river shallows. Why he hadn't asked before is beyond me.

"Fewer people, more animals. It's the untamed wilderness, Wolf. It's kind of our bread and butter," I say, nipping his ear playfully.

He snorts and bats me away. "I should be worried about my mental health, going along with this," he says.

I shrug. "You're a mid-ranker. Going along with my bullshit is your bread and butter,"

"Is that a fact?" Wolf asks.

I'm sure that Flare had explained the unsteady science behind our ranking system to him at some point. Still, I make a so-so gesture with my paw.

"More or less," I say. "We'll have time to worry about that when we get to the mountains. Just stay focused on the walk for now,"

Wolf smiles. "Okay, Darra,"

Our break ends and we're off again.

We walk.

And walk.

And walk.

Eventually, Dean begins singing. He actually has a rather nice voice, and soon the rest of us are joining in, vocalizing and humming along to the tune. It's a simple song, rather popular and often played in bars. Hearing it live was much nicer than on the phonograph, but we were hardly professional musicians.

We sing a few verses and hum along to the parts we don't remember. After a bit, we run out of song to sing and so we switch to another. And then another.

Before we know it, it's noon and my throat is sore from having sung for so long.

We lap up some water before retreating into the trees, eating, falling into the Sleep Pile. Alarra keeps a watchful eye over us while we drift off to sleep.

Dean wakes me up, I take my shift, wake Flare, fall back asleep.

~Day Nine of the Migration~

Damon wakes us up.

Sam, Damon, Alarra and I all go hunting. We catch quite a few things, foxes, rodents, and birds. The food basket is stuffed to capacity.

Dean has his bag strapped on, Flare is carrying the food basket, and the rest of us idiots have taken care of our bodily functions.

We set out, drink, walk.

All through the night and into the morning, we walk in relative silence. Flare, with his mouth stuffed full of the food basket, isn't able to participate in a conversation.

I turn to Wolf for my on-road entertainment, which was a great idea on my part. Wolf was very entertaining. Something about his sunshiny nature was just inherently endearing.

I ask him about how he's been. I haven't gotten much of an opportunity to talk one-on-one with either of my brothers. I plan on fixing that soon.

"I've been good," Wolf says. "Everyone here is really nice, so I don't have much to complain about,"

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"Not even the walking?" I ask. Walking is pretty much all that we've been doing since he was turned.

"Oh!" Wolf says and looks down at his paws, as though he'd only just remembered that that was what we were doing. "No, I don't really mind. It's kind of nice, actually. I haven't been moving around a lot In these past few months, so I appreciate the exercise!"

"Oh fuck off!" Sam shouts from the back of the group.

I laugh while Wolf flattens his ears to his skull in embarrassment. His tail tucks slightly, and he lowers himself closer to the ground, trying to make himself seem small.

I watch as Dean bites Sam's ruff in reprimand. The scruffy wolf jumps slightly before turning his glare on the grey-furred male. Dean gives him a flat look. Sam flicks his ears back, guilty.

I bump Wolf's shoulder with mine and nip his flattened ears. Under my attentions, he eventually straightens again. Although he's not nearly as talkative as he was earlier.

I continue walking with some concern. Wolf has always been shy, and it's mostly around new people. Hopefully, he gets familiar with the rest of the Pack soon, so that he knows that when Sam says something like that that he's only kidding.

We continue until dawn, break, then keep going.

We walk.

And walk.

And walk.

Noon rolls around and we drink, go into the forest, eat, fall into the Sleep Pile. Alarra takes he post atop a nearby boulder.

Dean wakes me, I take my shift, I wake Flare, I fall back asleep.

~Day Ten of the Migration~

Damon wakes us up. We do the usual things, hunt, urinate, gather our things. Sam with the basket and Dean with the canvas bag. Then, we leave the trees, drink some water, and continue walking.

We walk.

And walk.

And walk.

We break at dawn and then we walk.

And walk.

And walk.

I sigh. "Someone say something,"

"Something," Dean says on Sam's behalf.

"Har har," Flare says mockingly.

"What is the meaning of life," Alarra asks in a faux wistful tone. "To simply exist, or to do?"

"Oh Good Lord," Damon says. "Don't you dare get all philosophical on us, Winter. I. Will. Lose it,"

"I second that," I say.

"I second your second," Dean says.

"I see your second second and raise you a second to the third power," Flare says.

Sam grumbles his agreement around the basket.

"Same," Wolf says quietly. No one comments on it, even though we all heard him.

Alarra huffs as if offended. "I don't know why I put up with you people,"

"Because we're literally your only option?" Damon offers.

Alarra tilts her head to the side, conceding that.

We continue talking until noon. We drink, retreat into the forest, eat, and fall into the Sleep Pile. Alarra watches over us.

Dean wakes me, I take my shift, wake Flare, fall back asleep.

~Day Eleven of the Migration~

We complete our 'morning' tasks before setting off again. We drink before we start walking.

And we walk.

And walk.

Sunrise comes, we break. We continue walking.

I slow to a stop. Shit.

A few dozen yards In front of us are a couple of humans, sitting on a blanket on the riverbank, apparently on a date. They hadn't spotted us yet, but it wouldn't be long.

It was a miracle in and of its self that we haven't run into more at this point. With any luck, we won't run into many more. Wishful thinking, perhaps.

"Shit," Damon vocalizes.

"What do we do?" Wolf asks in a frantic whisper.

I furrow my brows in thought, considering our options. There is really only one. "We pretend that they aren't there," I say before continuing on.

We pass the humans, who freeze up as we approach. We ignore them and pick up the pace slightly to get away as quickly as possible.

After that, we walk until noon. We do all of the regular noon things, and I fall asleep.

Dean wakes me, I take my shift, wake Flare, and fall back asleep.

~Day Twelve of the Migration~

We wake, we hunt, we piss, we walk.

At this point, I could recount the routine in my sleep.

We walk.

And walk.

And walk.

Alarra looks around. "We could play I Spy again?"

Everyone without a basket in their mouth immediately agrees and we spend the next several hours playing I Spy. In the dark. Where we can't see any of the colours.

Luckily dawn set in just before we got bored of that, so we had a fresh new game to play. Although it once again devolved near the end, with ridiculously descriptive things Spied and delirious rambling about 'that one' tree from a couple of hours back and how sexy its branches were. We named the tree 'Omar' and fawned over it for about an hour before we took a break at sunrise.

Sam (who hadn't participated in the game-- what with the basket in his mouth and all) spent the entire break in a state of catatonia, starring into middle-distance with a look of profound sadness on his face. Dean placed a comforting paw on his shoulder in solidarity despite him having actively participated in the silliness.

And then we're walking again.

And walking.

And waking.

Eventually, Dean and Alarra get into an argument over who's a better hunter (Alarra) and who has more luxurious fur (also Alarra) eventually I get tired of their bickering and tell Alarra to walk up front with me to separate them.

"We don't have the time or mental energy for these kinds of petty arguments," I say to the group at large. "So please, until we get there just... bottle it up,"

Everyone mumbles an agreement, however reluctant it may be from certain people *cough* DeanandAlarra *cough.*

Alarra, now up in the front with Flare and I, begins filling the silence with jokes and sarcasm. I banter back and forth with her, enjoying having someone to talk to other then Flare. Not that I don't enjoy the conversations that I have with Flare, I just also enjoy talking to Alarra.

"I don't know, I feel like I could pull off bangs," Alarra says.

"You could certainly try. I don't know how they would look on a canine body, though,"

Alarra huffs. "I could totally pull off bangs,"

"Okay," I say, rolling my eyes amusedly. "Sure you could,"

Alarra smacks my flank with her tail and I giggle at the fake offended expression on her face.

At noon, we stop, we drink, we retreat to the forest, we eat, and we fall into the Sleep Pile. Alarra watches over us.

Dean wakes me, I take my shift, I wake Flare, I go back to sleep.

~Day Thirteen of the Migration~

Damon wakes us up, we hunt, we pee, we drink, we walk.

And walk.

And walk.

And walk.

"Who else wants to fuckin' die?" Sam shouts after a while.

We all whoop, and Flare mumbles an agreement around the basket handles.

"Oh good," Sam says. "I though' I was loosin' it,"

Alarra gallops towards the front of the group and once again takes up the place she'd walked in yesterday.

"How's it going up here?" She asks.

I sigh. "About normal. The river is to the right, the forest is to the left... you know, standard stuff,"

Alarra snorts at that, despite nothing funny having been said. The comedy was situational. "Sounds pretty boring,"

"Oh, so boring," I say.

Flare looks between us before slowing for a few moments. He takes up his regular pace again, although comes nowhere close to where he'd been previously.

I shoot him a confused look, to which he only arches an eyebrow. So, I have no idea what that means...

I shrug and turn back to Alarra.

"And now that I'm here?" She asks.

"Hmm," I say, faux considering. "Less boring, I suppose,"

Alarra beams.

We walk until sunrise, break, and continue walking.

And walking.

And walking.

Alarra and I chat idly, trading quips and observations.

"Oh! Oh! Look at that fat squirrel!" Alarra says at one point.

"Oh please, how fat could it- Good Lord!" It really was just an absurdly large squirrel.

"I know, right?" Alarra says.

We talk until noon, then we drink, we go into the forest, we eat, and we fall into the Sleep Pile. Alarra once again on first watch.

Dean wakes me, I take my watch, I wake Flare, and I fall back asleep.