Prologue: The Tradition

Diary Entry of Fallon Teroth (16) of the Grey Peak Pack

The Grey Peak Pack celebrates the bond forming between a werewolf's human side and their wolf side. As winters close and the final snows cap the peaks, tall bonfires are built all around the square. A platform is erected in front of the pack house with a discreet closed area in the center. At the end of winter after a young werewolf first shifts, their wolf is introduced to the pack by the Luna.

The tradition started, as most did, out of a tragic necessity. Long ago, the Grey Peak pack was spread far beyond the mountain to the plains below. The Alpha at the time had a son. He was a bright child who followed his father constantly emulating his every move, even getting other kids to join him in their own version of warrior training. The Alpha fed his son's appetite to learn, and the boy was well on his way to becoming a strong leader.

The only time the boy was not allowed to follow his father were patrols and missions. His father told his son that once his wolf joined him, he'd be allowed to train for that as well. The pack's size and bountiful territory had them almost constantly under attack by rogues and hunters. While these threats had not reached any towns, they had injured wolves outside of the protections of the towns and even killed a warrior on patrol.

When the Alpha's son was 15, he was with his mother's parents in a town at the base of the mountain for the winter solstice. Sometime during that visit his wolf came to him and the boy experienced his first shift. The assumption is he was excited to show his father and join the patrols and other work that had been unavailable to him before. One night, he snuck out of their house and started to make his way home. Whether he thought it would show his skills to go alone in the storm or he made the decision in the excitement of the moment, no one is sure. But he left the safety of his grandparents' home and started the trek without telling anyone.

About halfway up the mountain he encountered a patrol. From what the two men said before they exiled themselves in remorse, they were tracking a wolf heading roughly towards the pack house at a fast clip in the heavy snow. It seemed unfamiliar with the territory since it was forced to swim one of the ice filled rivers, not taking a small rock bridge just upstream built for the patrols. When the wind shifted the falling snow and they were able to lay eyes on it, the unknown wolf saw them and ran straight towards them. They reacted as if under attack and slew the wolf charging them. Rogues had used the mask of snow and wind to keep their scents obscured at a distance in the previous attacks. Only afterwards did they realize their mistake.

A promising young Alpha, killed before adulthood. Two loyal warriors banished from the pack with their families by their own guilt. An Alpha destroyed by grief who never recovered. The pack began shrinking after that, a punishment from the Moon Goddess for the boy's destruction. We are now a handful of towns perched on the northward side of the mountain. Left alone largely because we have nothing anyone wants.

But there is the tradition, all warriors are introduced to the new wolves. They are taken on a run from town to town before returning and joining training the next day. Every pup is taught the perils of straying from home when they first shift. We spend the year between then and the ceremony waiting anxiously for the day our wolves are known to the pack and can run openly. So we sit and wait and wonder if we will make our kids sit and wait when it is their time. Will we forget our wolves straining to be let free and keep our children bound to a tradition?