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Even with his gaps of understanding, the young man could tell something in Tavirora had changed. Still feeling as though he were on the outskirts of the pack, though being thoroughly adopted by the four brothers, he noticed the comings and goings of the pack from the outside looking in. Over the seasons he watched females grow round. In the coming of spring he saw the pups start to stare out from the mouths of their mothers’ dens. He watched from a distance and with growing excitement. Last year he had felt like he belonged for a moment with the pack, swearing to himself to protect the innocent lives that had been introduced to the world that fateful day. His tail swished through the air, eager to commit himself to these pups, as well. But the day never came. It was the missing piece.

Quietly and lonesome, the deaf wolf traced the trails through the trees in search for the man who had often been seen romping with pups of various ages. Zeru had never seen his name, but he had quickly come to learn Mikken was missing, and his scents old and stale. Eyes lidded in concern. Zeru changed his course and searched for another. The wolf who had hosted the previous year’s celebration had to have been around. Perhaps he was waiting for his own opportunity to do it again. With a grin, the ‘imprisoned’ pup bounced along the trails to find Roman, following the thick scents to his dens. Once he came within senses of the homesteads, he stopped. The wolf was there, for certain, but the air was dense with a sadness that settled in the very trees around them. Zeru whined softly in his confusion and concern. The two wolves he had sought were surrounded in sorrow. His useless ears fell expressively and the young wolf walked away from the clearing with a deep sense of loss in his heart.

At a young age, Zeru’s puppyhood had been stolen from him before he even knew what it was. It was a fate he dearly wished to protect others from experiencing. Feeling as though he had been saved by the brothers, he wished to continue their caring for the pack as they had cared for him. In a clearing of the forest, he sat. Shoulders hunched and head hanging, Zeru felt dejected and useless. The life he had witnessed come into the world would go without a proper greeting. As a wolf who had no solid standing within the pack, who was he have the right? As he stared at a leaf in the grass, he growled low to himself. This was not what the brothers had taught him. Not in the slightest. Another soft growl and the youth’s chest suddenly puffed and his head went high. He would give these pups the welcome they deserved! Possibly, hopefully, he could prove himself more than a ward of the pack. A worthy member who could commit himself to a task and a purpose.

His own ‘herf’ of determination fell silently onto his ears and he leapt into action with zero knowledge of the directions he had to go. He did know it was to be a celebration, which meant feasting and food. His first call was to a large, regal-ish wolf he often saw romping and running through the forests. Mismatched gray and green eyes looked questioningly up at mismatched green and blue. Help with food? Zeru asked in his clipped, awkward voice. The wolf raised a golden brown brow. Seriously? Me? Tepiltzin’s richly exotic accent looked as strange as it sounded, leading Zeru to thoroughly question what was said. The pup hesitated for a moment, visibly clearly trying to grasp at the meaning of the words. Please? No stealing… The brown wolf laughed good naturedly and decided to bounce off, leaving Zeru very confused and questioning whether his request would be fulfilled. Hoping the mischievous prince would be true to his words, Zeru carried on.

Bit by bit, he collected this and that. Bits of dried hide, sticks and interesting rocks were all gathered and he ran to place them in the clearing the event had been held the previous year. He remembered the seats and places provided for mothers and monarchs. For a moment he thought about recreating that, as well, and shook his head. This was about the pups stepping into the world, taking their steps and claiming their places, discovering what could be given to them. And playing with toys! They would show themselves to the world. He looked at the gathered items and wagged his tail. Hopefully these were things all the ages could enjoy. Pleased with himself, he turned and stumbled in surprise when the brown body of Tepi was struggling and wrenching with the carcass of a fawn. Zeru stepped forward and helped drag it into the center. It was not enough for a pack to feast, but a good snack at least.

Tepi huffed beside the carcass, flopping down on his back. Before you ask, I did NOT steal it. Petulant bastard. The words were in Latin, and Zeru was oblivious anyway. Instead he sniffed at the meat, pleased that it was fresh. With a yip of thanks he streaked off to finish.

In font of each den he had seen little lives peek out of he bowed playfully. Puppies! Welcome! He barked cheerfully into the depths, careful to keep a respectful distance though, still too shy to approach too close. In his excitement, more often than not he would start to run off again before remembering something and turning back to each of the dens. .... Parents, too! It was still a challenge for him to wrap his mind around a concept he had never experienced. Come, come, come! Zipping too and fro, he became more and more excited. Through the sadness he had seen, he was hoping to bring the little lives into the light and start them with the joys of birth, pack, play. Things he had been lacking in his first seasons of life. Come, come come! Zeru continued to bark through the pack, still a little worries he was overstepping his bounds as a ward of the pack, though hopefully this would show the mysterious Goddess he wanted to be a part of this place. Paws pounding on the ground, he returned to the clearing, tripping over the still sprawled Tepiltzin. Welcome, welcome! He called out to any who came to this celebration of life, trying to call more to the clearing. Parents, friends, family…. pack.