The Pack

The Pack

[ ` She scrambled out of the thicket, her little paws threw dust into the air. In an instant, she ran straight into the pack-leader, Wither. ` ] This is the first story in a line of Qfeast books, going over the life of a small wolf pup named Drift.

published on October 181 read 1 reader 0 not completed

Chapter One ~ Intro

Light filtered through the cave entrance, lined with heather and gorse. A short gasp sounded from somewhere inside, and with an instant, it begone. A wolf queen lay on her side, her breathes were tence and short, a short fox-like wolf standing at her side "Breaathhheee" He rasped to the queen, "You're doing fine." He licked the queen's ear. At that moment, a wolf pup's slimy head appeared, and then what felt like just a second later, the tiny pup tumbled down her mother's stomach and was squeaking for her warm milk. A brown, drift-wood coloured wolf, his scent simallar to one of a male, jabbed the kit towards his mother. He then turned to the red wolf, still staring down at the pup, the red wolf's face twisted with pain. "Red, will she be OK?" The drifty tom spoke. "Sparrow, you've always been one to worry," Red's beedy, brown eyes crackled with amusement at his friend, "She'll be fi--" A deafening screech cut him off. Sparrow's mate started to gush blood, from the birth wound made by her pup. Sparrow rushed forwards. "Sky Pack, help my mate!" He murmured, his face turned to the sky. "Feather.... please!" He whimpered, "Please..
don't leave me.." He began to sob when the rapid spasms ended, the cave was left with silence. He touched his muzzle to her creamy, thick, soft fur. Feeling through every scar that lined her body. A few of her close friends, a rosey coloured she-wolf stalked up to her and licked the blood from her matted fur. A golden, broad shouldered, wolf, a male wolf, padded forwards towards the great white queen, a growl rising in his chest, "Why did it have to be her?" He whimpered, his fierce growl faltering

to a sob. Just before she had been pregnant with Sparrow's tiny pup, the golden alpha loved her with all the love he could give to a she-wolf like her, which added up to a lot. And I do mean, a lot. The tiny pup squeaked for food, and the gazes of the pack turned to the white pup, littered with patches of browns of all shades. Then she squeaked agian, "I think she should be named Drift." The rosey she-wolf croaked softly. Murmurs of quiet agreement rippled through the cave. "Then, it is settled. In the hounor of Feather, one point a braves she-wolf, she will be named after the father before her. Drift is now a pup of our pack." Sun declared, his bark hoarse with his great age, one that took most lives from his pack. Yet Sun was different. Sun was strong.
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