Roaring Thunder

PROLOGUE

Thunder! Thunder, come play! my brother yaps.

He and my sister-wolf tussle on the ground, whereas I stare at the sky, watching an eagle circle the blue canvas, its large wings spread out, a splotch of brown in the scape of endless blue.

Mother-wolf, why is it doing that? I ask, keeping my eyes fixed on the huge territorial bird.

The eagle is a bird of action. It symbolises freedom. It takes what it wishes and does not listen to anyone. Mother-wolf says, her voice vague. One day, Thunder, you will soar like the eagle. One day, you will fly like a great bird, ruling over your territory, listening to no one.

Don’t set his sights where he can’t reach. Father-wolf says, a chunk of meat in his jaws.

My pup-mates race to get a bite. I simply stare at Father-wolf. He is covered in scars from recent battles and smells of blood and the forest.

Thunder can do anything. My mother-wolf proclaims, standing over me.

Thunder is the weakest of our litter. He will be lucky if he survives long enough to see his second winter. Father-wolf barks, his eyes ablaze with anger.

Mother-wolf licks my black pelt protectively. After a moment, she shepherds me away from my pup-mates and into the forest.

Mother-wolf, I’m not supposed to leave the den, I whisper, keeping my eyes on the moving shadows of the forest. Mother-wolf ignores me and continues to lead me through the woods. We walk through the maze of trees and roots until we reach a small clearing.

Sit. What do you smell?

I raise my snout and smell the air. Never have I smelt so many smells before.

I smell trees, the river, and rabbits.

We are going hunting. Mother-wolf growls, her tone strict. She leads me to a bramble bush and drops into a crouch. You see that rabbit? Bring it to me.

I shake my head in disbelief. I’m not even allowed to leave my den, now I am in the forest hunting rabbits.

But I can tell she is serious, so I creep up to the rabbit, trying to be stealthy. It bolts. I run after it, dodging roots, and trees. It moves towards the river. So do I. I have never chased prey before. It is fast, and hard to see. But I am not going to let it get away.

I am going to be like the eagle: fast, strong, and precise. I will listen to no one. I will one day rule my own territory. I will one day lead my own pack and have pups of my own.

I leap and pounce on the rabbit, biting its neck. The rabbit squeals, and I pick it up in my jaws. Mother-wolf runs towards me, looking pleased. My tail wags furiously.

Never have I been more happy.

Mother-wolf and I make our way back to Father-wolf, who is waiting. When he sees me carrying a rabbit in my jaws, he looks surprised. Mother-wolf walks straight past him and heads towards Alpha, who looks at me with some amusement. He flicks his tail and Mother-wolf leaves, leaving the two of us alone. Alpha smirks at me. I quivered with fear.

Did you catch that? he asks, his voice merely a whisper.

I nod, placing a paw protectively over my kill.

You are strong. he whispers, his smile turning to a snarl. But your strength will fade, for you are nothing. Too quiet to be a father, too meek to be a hunter, too weak to be a leader.

I shiver. His tone is cold enough to freeze a lake.

You are nothing. You were born nothing, and you will die nothing, for you, Thunder, are no leader.

Alpha smirks and walks away, leaving me clutching my rabbit. I go to my den feeling dejected and petty.

Mother-wolf and Father-wolf are asleep, and so are my pup-mates. I sit just outside of my den, watching the full moon. Mother-wolf once told me that the moon shone light onto the future—onto things that are not supposed to be seen.

It doesn’t matter what Alpha says. It doesn’t matter what Father-wolf says. I am going to be a fighter. I am going to be a father. I am going to be a leader. I look up to the moon and make a silent promise. You can try, but you cannot defeat me.

CHAPTER 1

Sometimes I wish someone would just kill me. Sometimes I wish for it so much I think it will actually work. I think I will die, and the world will finally put me out of my misery.

It hasn’t happened yet.

Here I am: a lone wolf with a dead mate and no reason to live. I’m hungry. I’m tired. I’m done.

But somehow, the world wants me to keep on living. My paw pads ache and my head sags. Hunger roars in my stomach like a monster. The wind howls through the forest, making every sound bigger. I feel the fur on my hackles rise and fall, as if I know something lurks in the darkness.

I raise my head to sniff the air: I smell rain, far away, but it is there. I also smell salt, most likely coming from the ocean. There’s another scent, too, but I just can’t place it. Everything about this place is unfamiliar. The scents, the scenery–it’s all new. The only thing the same is the ocean. That is the only thing I recognized. But I can’t go back to the ocean. I swore to myself I would never go back. It hurts too much. Even I don’t deserve that much pain. Right?

I continue to walk through the forest, my hunger growing with each measly step. I have to find food. I’m used to being hungry, but this is more than I can bear.

I sniff the air, my wolf senses heightening. I smell rabbit. I quickly and quietly pad towards the scent, my excitement growing, until I see it.

The rabbit is skinny, more bones than meat, but a starving wolf can’t be picky. I drop into a hunter’s crouch, keeping my tail up and making sure to pick up my paws with each step.

I am close. So close. Just as I am about to pounce, the wind shifts. The rabbit sees me and bolts.

I run after it, dodging roots and trees. We near a deep ditch, and the rabbit makes a sharp turn. I go to do the same, but my paws slip on the mud. I tumble into the ditch, my head hitting rocks and roots as I fall. I feel a searing pain in my hind leg, then another one in my head.

I fall to the ground, my consciousness slipping. Giving into the pain like I have done so many times before, I let myself sink into the syrupy void of darkness.

Being alone with my own thoughts scares me more than death itself. I would rather face death and all that it stands for than be alone with my thoughts for even one second.

That’s the thought I wake up to.

That, the taste of blood, and a pounding headache. My jet-black fur is caked in blood and mud.

There is a large wound on my left hind leg, and when I hit my head, I must have bit my tongue. I reach to lick my wounds, feeling them sting. I cringe and continue to lick.

My stomach growls. If I do not eat soon, then I will perish and be left for the coyotes. The thought is tempting, but for some reason, the world wants me to keep on living and who am I to question it? I force myself to get up. I am unsteady, but at least I can walk. I climb out of the ditch. With each step comes a sharp piercing pain that hurts more than life itself. Gritting my teeth, I push onwards, clamber up the ditch, and pull myself onto the surface.

Standing there to greet me is a snarling red fox.

CHAPTER 2

Well, this is just great. What a fun way to start my day—dying at the teeth of a creature half my size.

I have to focus, but some part of me just doesn’t want to. Some part of me wants to accept the fact that I am going to die today and there is nothing I can do about it.

Another part of me really wants to survive.

I am bigger than the fox, but I am at my worst. I quickly review my options: Stay here and fight or make a run for it. Before I have time to decide, the fox lunges for my throat.

Rearing up on my hind legs, I bat at its head before falling to the ground. The fox slashes at my stomach. Recklessly, I go for its eyes. The fox bites my foreleg, causing me to fall to the ground again. Pain grips my entire body as I try to get up.

The fox’s hot breath travels down my neck as it prepares to make the killing bite. Just as my consciousness starts to slip, I see a flash of golden fur. Before I can place the scent, darkness once again greets me.

Water splashes in my face. Salt overpowers the scent of anything else. Ocean. I have to find Ocean. My eyes sting from the water, and I struggle to keep above the surface.

Thunder! Thunder! her panicked bark brings a surge of energy throughout my body. She’s alive.

She has to be.

Wake up!

My eyes shoot open at the sound of a sharp bark. The second I lift my head, I regret it. My whole body aches from top to bottom. I wince as I lift my head up higher, my dream still fresh in my mind.

Finally! I thought you’d never wake up.

My eyes adjust to the sunlight, and I see the strangest-looking wolf ever. She has brownish-golden fur, icy-blue eyes, and ears that are pointed right up to the top where they droop oddly at the tips. Her fur is shaggy and long.

Half-dog. Definitely a half-dog. She has a vibrant red collar around her neck with a gold tag that glistens in the morning sun. I feel a deep growl rise in my throat.

Dogs. They live with humans, they are lazy, and they are stupid. You can tell she is a dog because she is well fed. She does have some scratches on her, though.

Who are you? Those were the only three words I can get out of my mouth. I can feel my tongue swelling up. I must have bitten it again.

My name is Tracy, and I am the one who just saved your life. Her voice is strong. She has no idea the damage I can do to her.

If I manage to stand up.

Tracy? What kind of name is Tracy? I growl, my voice stronger.

It’s a name, it doesn’t actually mean anything.

A name means everything,

Alright, she begins, if names mean so much to you, then what’s yours?

Forcing myself to get up, I limp away, wincing with every step. But before I know it, Tracy is right beside me.

And just where do you think you are going?

Okay, to be honest, I don’t actually know where I am going. I’ve been walking in circles for the past few days and don’t actually have a plan of any sorts. What I do know is I have too big an ego to tell this dog any of that. I walk away and hope she doesn’t follow.

Well, that’s a little rude, she says.

Even more annoyed, I continue to walk. She continues to follow me.

She-wolves are so annoying.

I growl, turning towards her, Leave me alone, dog.

I angrily move towards the rising sun, to find some food or perhaps a stream.

Fine, I will.

She leaves, walking towards the woods. For some reason, I am more annoyed than before.

Maybe because she, in some ways, reminds me of Ocean. Pushing both females out of my head, I continue to walk, raising my head. I smell a familiar scent. Deer.

I quicken my pace, excitement brewing in my stomach. If I don’t catch this, I’ll be out of options. Dropping into the familiar hunter’s crouch, lifting my tail up, I stalk the deer. Just as I am about to pounce, I feel the wind shift.

No, no, not now.

The deer’s ears perk up and before I know it, it’s on the run. I run as fast as I can, feeling pain spread throughout my whole body. Blood runs down my foreleg, yet I push on… Just when I feel I’m about to lose it, I see a familiar flash of gold fur.

Tracy jumps on the deer, lunging for its neck. The deer kicks and rears up trying to escape the death grip. Tracy bites harder and the deer collapses onto the ground as she makes the killing bite.

A growl rises in my throat. That deer is mine. I need it much more than she ever will.

I told you not to follow me. The fur on my hackles bristle. This dog is nothing but a thorn in my paw.

You’re welcome.

You’re welcome? Who does she think she is?

That’s an odd way to say thank you to someone who just caught you a much-needed meal.

She says, as if I am a pup talking back to its mother wolf.

That kill is mine, I growl, my anger roaring inside me like a raging storm.

All right, you can have it, she begins, but first, you have to help me.

Help her? Never.

Anger pulsing through my body, I lunge for her throat, feeling my wounds sting. Tracy dodges easily. I stumble over my forepaws and collapse to one side. I feel her claws dig in as she leaps onto me.

Give up? Her tone is mocking. If I was at full strength, I could beat her, but right now, I need food, and I am willing to do anything to get it.

"Fine.

She lets me up, and I dart towards the deer, ripping a huge chunk off. Tracy confidently walks up and starts to eat as well. I find myself not caring. There was enough for both of us. Tracy nervously takes a bite of deer, looks revolted, and coughs it up. Dogs.

I take another bite to prevent myself from lashing out at her. It is so tempting to direct all my anger at her, but I know I have to restrain the impulse no matter how satisfying it might be.

And boy, would it be satisfying.

Finally feeling full, I sit up and lick my lips. Tracy does the same.

So, you’ll help me? she asks.

I could just walk away. I had my meal, and I owe this dog nothing. But I know that Tracy will continue to follow me until I help her. Besides, I may be a lone wolf, but I still have some loyalty in me. Even if it is to some half-wolf.

Fine. I’ll help you.

Good, she begins, I want you to help me get to the city.

The city? Why would she want to go to the city? She sees my confused