Wolf Girl

Short story about a girl who's raised by wolves.

It was a full moon.  The wolf Silverpaws was watching a campsite with two tents up. The campers had left two hot dogs on the edge of the still hot fire pit.  The wolf silently crept up to the fire and snatched up the hot dogs.  Instead of eating them she carried them away, she needed them for her pups.

One of the tent flaps was open, a little girl, only three years old, was watching with fascination.  Her mother was inuit and the little girl had inherited her dark features.  Inside the two tents her family was asleep.  As Silverpaws slunk out of the campsite the little girl followed, tottering after the wolf.  

Silverpaws was so focused on getting back to her pups that she was halfway to the den before she noticed the little girl.  She dropped the hot dogs and spun around, crouching down and growling.  The little girl giggled and did the same, mimicking her growl.  Silverpaws growled again and bared her teeth, her ears were back, tail low, and her hackles were standing up along her back.  Again the little girl did the same.  Silverpaws eyed the little girl warily, noticing that she was just a pup.  She snarled a warning for the girl to leave, picked up the hot dogs and ran away.  The little girl giggled again and followed her, but she wasn’t nearly as fast as a wolf and quickly fell behind.  She sat on the ground and cried.  Silverpaws could hear the little girls wails and didn’t know what to do.  She understood pups because she had her own and this funny two-legs pup with flat fur was sad and lost.  She was so close to the den, she could run away and forget the two-legs pup, but she was a mother, and the two-legs pup was lost.  Silverpaws growled quietly and turned around to lead the lost pup to the den.  She already had five pups, one two-legs pup couldn’t make that much of a difference.

The little girl grew up with Silverpaws pups just like a pup herself.  A pup named Night who grew into an adult wolf.  She learnt to hunt like a wolf, run like a wolf, eat like a wolf, and speak like a wolf.  By the time fifteen years had passed, all that was left of her years as a human were foggy memories.  

It was obvious to the pack, and to Night, that she was different, but even though Silverpaws and her mate had died Night was accepted as a pack mate.  The alpha, Battle, hadn’t been born until after Night had already been living in the den for a few years and the two had grown up together.  So even though Night was different, she was treated just the same.  

What had once been a small farming town at the edge of the pack's territory had been growing in size.  Some of the wolves prey had begun to leave, making it harder for the wolves to hunt and feed their pups.  The pack was a good sized pack, fifteen matured wolves and two litters of pups.  Their territory covered a big chunk of forest and the town.  They were the only pack left in the area because the others had left to find better hunting.  The Coldwoods pack didn’t want to leave the valley, the valley was their home.  

In the Territories of Canada winter was long, and when spring did come along it was cold and there was often snow.  In the spring of Night’s eighteenth year there was a snowstorm mid may.  Most of the smaller animals hid in their dens, making hunting for the wolves scarce.  The pack was hungry and the pups needed feeding.  The pack left the two oldest wolves to watch the pups while the rest hunted.  Battles mate, Iriseyes, and three other wolves brought down an elk but it wasn’t enough to feed them all and the pups.  That was why half the pack decided to steal some sheep from a farm while the other half tried to catch something else.  The wolves knew stealing from farms was dangerous because if they did the two-legs hunted them.  But they were desperate.  

Night was in the group that went to steal sheep.  They chose a farm close to the forest so they could get away fast.  Shortsnout was the one to kill a sheep first.  The sheep bleated  loudly in fear and the farmer came running out of his house with a loaded rifle.  He saw Shortsnout next to the dead sheep and shot.  Shortsnout yelped and fell into the snow.  Scrap jumped forwards to guard his mate.  The rest of the wolves slunk forwards to circle the two-legs.  Usually when two-legs hunted the wolves they ran away, but this time the two-legs had hit their packmate and they couldn’t leave a packmate.  The two-legs readied his rifle to shoot again.  Behind him he heard a snarl that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.  It didn’t sound like the other wolves.  Slowly he turned around but he wasn’t expecting to see a grown woman crouched in the snow, completely naked.  Her black hair covered her back right down to mid thigh.  She snarled again and the two-legs saw her muscles tense like a wolf just before it pounces.  He stood completely still, his eyes locked with the womans black eyes.  Then she pounced.  Her long nails dug into his shoulders as she tackled him to the ground.  She drove her teeth into his neck and ripped out a big chunk of his throat.  He was dead in an instant, his still hot blood pooled into the snow causing steam to rise.  

Night climbed off the dead two-legs and spat out his skin.  It tasted wrong.  She looked at him closely and whimpered.  She put one of her blood stained hands up against his.  Night knew she was different from her pack mates but not so different, she had two-legs paws.  

“I am two-legs.”  She whimpered at the wolves.

“Wolf sister.”  Scrap barked.

“Not two-legs?”  Night barked hopefully.

“Pack mate.”  Another wolf agreed.

Night took her hand away from the dead two-legs and went over to Shortsnout.  With Scraps help she nudged her up.  The cut was shallow and Shortsnout would be ok, the bullet had only grazed her leg.  The wolves killed two more sheep and dragged them away.  Shortsnout limped with them slowly but they all made it back to the den.  

Battle and the rest of the wolves were already back.  They hadn’t caught anything.   

“Two-legs hurt Shortsnout.  Night kill two-legs.”  Scrap reported.  

“Two-legs will follow.”  Battle growled.

“Sheep are hidden.  Two-legs won’t find sheep.  We went the long way back to the den.  Two-legs won’t follow.”  Night replied.

“Two-legs will follow.  We kill two-legs, more two-legs will follow.”  Battle persisted.

“Two-legs aren’t pack.  Two-legs won’t follow.”  Scrap argued.

Battle growled again and paced back and forth in the den.  

“Yes.  Two-legs aren’t pack.  Two-legs won’t care.”  Night agreed.

“Pups are small still.  We must guard pups.”  Battle decided.

The whole pack howled in agreement.  “We must guard pups.”

The wife of the dead farmer waited for him to come back inside, but when he didn’t she grabbed the second shotgun and went outside to see what had happened.  When she found him, she screamed and called for help.  Not only because he was dead, but also because all around him were the tracks of wolves, as well as one set of footprints.  

Her two oldest sons came running out the door at the sound of their mothers screams.  They dragged her away from the body of their father and dragged her into the house, leaving their siblings to care for her while they went for help.  

When the headman of the village heard he called a town meeting.  All the men and their oldest sons came to the town hall to decide what to do about the wolves, and what to make of the human footprints.  The end decision was to bring all the families who lived outside of the village inside until they dealt with the wolves and it was safe.  In the meantime everyone with the appropriate skills was set to work making nets to trap the wolves.  

The best hunters of the village followed the wolf tracks to find the den.  It took them quite a while to follow the tracks because at times one set of tracks would break off and go in a different direction only to join up with the main group later on and each time the hunters would have to follow both sets of tracks.  They found the three sheep buried beneath the snow, and only an hour later they arrived at a rock cave.  Quietly they retreated back the way they’d came and returned to the village.  

“We found the den.  It’s half a days walk west into the forest.”  One of the hunters told the headman once they’d made it back to the village.

“Good work men.  Join the rest of the men and help plan our attack.”  He ordered.  “We’ll get them tomorrow morning.”

The pack had been asleep when the hunters found their den.  When they awoke Battle put his nose in the air and snarled.  “Two-legs.  Two-legs came here.”  

The old wolf Greytail sniffed the air and agreed.  “Two-legs came here.  They are gone now.”

“They followed.  We must guard pups.”  Shortsnout growled.  

“We wait.  Steel and Glint follow two-legs tracks and watch.  Come back at night.”  Battle ordered.  

Two female wolves separated from the pack and dashed out into the snow.   

“We wait and guard pups.”  Scrap barked and allowed one of the pups to pounce on his tail.  

Night was crouched in a corner of the den.  Iriseyes, Battles mate, padded over to her and and curled up next to her.  She nosed Night gently.  “Night sad.”  

“Paws same as two-legs.”  Night whimpered.

“Yes.”  Iriseyes agreed.

“I am two-legs?”  Night asked.

“You are pack.”  Iriseyes replied.

“Pack.”  Night whined.  “Paws same as two-legs.  Still pack?”

“Still pack.”  Iriseyes echoed.

Two of the pups tumbled into the two older wolves growling and yipping.  Night growled playfully and knocked one of the pups into the other.  Iriseyes snorted and crouched down allowing a third pup to pounce on her.  Soon all of the younger wolves had joined into the pups play, nipping gently and carefully swatting each other.  Even Battle abandoned his posts watching the entrance of the den to roughhouse with some of his packmates.  As the young wolves played the older ones returned to their nap.  Despite the two-legs and the threat they posed, the pack relaxed.

The village was not relaxed.  Nets were being made, plans drawn up, and all the outlying families were safe inside the village.  The worked through the day and well into the night.  While the pack hunted and ate and played the villagers slept uneasily as they waited for morning to come.

Once again the pack was napping when the villagers arrived at their den.  Only this time there were more than two men and this time they didn’t leave.  Instead they surrounded the entrance to the den and readied their nets.

One of the pups woke up Night.  He rolled over in his sleep and stuck his paw right into Night’s eye.  She growled softly and pushed the pup away intending to go back to sleep but something about the day felt wrong.  The forest was too quiet and the air smelt of two-legs.  She crept over to Battle and nosed him awake.  Battle growled a warning to go away but Night nudged him again.  

“Two-legs are here.”  She whined quietly.

Battles eyes flew open and he sniffed the air and listened.

“Two-legs.  I smell their fear.  Pack, two-legs are here.”  Battle barked.  The pack awoke and rolled to their feet.  “Glint, Scrap, Night, guard Shortsnout and pups.  Pack, come, two-legs are here.”  Battle ordered.

The pack howled as one before darting out of the den.  Shortsnout led the pups to a corner of the den and stood guard while Glint, Scrap, and Night guarded the entrance.  The villagers were ready, they threw their nets over the wolves as they left their den.  Two of the wolves were shot, and three of the villagers fell to the wolves.  The remaining nine wolves were trapped by the villagers, there were too many men for them to fight.  

Night watched from the entrance as Battle and Iriseyes, her closest packmates, were forced to the ground by nets.  Steel, the mother of one of the litters of pups, was dead.  Rag, Greytail’s  mate, was bleeding into the snow from a bullet in her side.  The two-legs had her pack, the two-legs had killed packmates.  Night gave a ferocious snarl and leap out of the den.  The two-legs shouted in fear as the feral woman attacked.  Some were so startled that they dropped their nets, allowing some of the wolves to free themselves.  The freed wolves ripped apart the nets holding their packmates.  More guns were fired and more wolves went down.  Night pounced on one two-legs and killed him.  Battle killed another and Greytail stood guard over Rag.  

It was impossible to tell who was winning until two of the villagers got Night.  They tackled her down and held a gun to her head.  The wolves knew that the steel sticks were the two-legs claws.  The steel sticks were what killed Steel, and her mate Frost, and the steel sticks were what hurt Shortsnout, and Rag, and Iriseyes.  But the two-legs weren’t killing Night with their steel claws.  

The two-legs holding Night was talking.  The wolves didn’t know what he was saying but they understood what he meant.  He had his steel claws on Night’s throat.  He was the winner, he was stronger.  Battle’s tail went down and he whined Night’s name.  

“Battle.  Fight, kill two-legs.”  Night snarled struggling to get away from her captor.

“Two-legs has packmate.  Two-legs wins.”  Battle replied.

“No.  Fight, kill two-legs.”  Night repeated.

“Packmate.  Two-legs wins.”  Battle barked.  Slowly the pack backed away from the two-legs.  The villagers followed suit, taking Night with them.  

“Glint.  Follow two-legs quiet, careful.  Come back when two-legs reach their den.”  Battle ordered.  Glint came out of the den and slunk after the villagers.

The pack got their wounded packmates into the den and dragged their dead packmates and the dead two-legs away from the den and deeper into the forest.  Rag was badly hurt but she would live.  Iriseyes was missing one ear.  

Night fought her captors the whole way back to the village, snarling and growling.  The villagers didn’t see or hear Glint but Night did.  She recognized her smell but gave no sign that she did to the villagers.  When they did reach the village Glint retreated back to the den.  

The villagers dragged Night into an empty shed, bound her wrists and locked her in.  After much discussion two men accompanied a woman into the shed.  Both men had guns.  The woman brought cloths and food and water.  When they entered the building Night was crouched in a corner.  She growled and bared her teeth when they tried to approach her.

“I just want to help you.  Look, I brought some clothes for you to wear, and food and water.”  The woman said quietly, pointing to her own clothes and miming eating.  But her words meant nothing to Night.  The woman tried to get closer but Night growled louder.  In the end she left the clothes, food, and water on the floor as close as she could to Night.  

The woman and men talked outside the shed with some other villagers.  “Completely wild.  Won’t let us near her, I don’t think she can even speak.”  The woman said.  

Glint returned to the pack to tell what she’d seen.  “Two-legs have Night in their den.”

“Night not dead?”  Battle asked.

“Night not dead, fighting two-legs.  Too many two-legs.  Two-legs take Night to their den.”  Glint replied.

“Night saved us.  Help packmate.”  Iriseyes yipped.

“Packmate.”  Battle agreed.  

“Take Night from two-legs den.”  Shortsnout barked.

“Two-legs sleep at dark.  Take Night at dark.”  Greytail agreed.

“Many two-legs.”  Battle warned.

“Packmate.”  Rag argued.

“Wait.  Hunt, eat, sleep.  Wait then take Night from two-legs den.”  Battle decided.

“Two nights is dark moon.  Harder for two-legs to see in dark moon.”  Glint barked.

“Two nights.  Save packmate.”  Iriseyes growled.

Night refused to eat or drink.  The same woman returned every hour or so to check on her.  She tried talking and miming but Night growled and snarled at her.  The woman was scared of Night, Night could smell it.  When the woman came she would bring the two men with their steel claws.  The men would stand at the door while she tried to talk to Night.  Although Night didn’t understand the words, they caused the fuzzy memories of Night’s first three years as a human to resurface.  She remembered two two-legs talking to her with the same words.  She remembered wearing the flat fur and using two-legs words and walking on two legs instead of four.  The memories confused Night and scared her.  Wolves didn’t wear flat fur, or use two-legs words, or walk on two legs, and she was a wolf.  Two-legs killed wolves, but the two-legs hadn’t killed her.  

There was always two men outside the shed, even at night.  One night and one day passed.  The woman kept coming with food and water and talking.  Night still refused to touch the food and water, or to let her get close.  She would spend most of the day with Night trying to make her understand.  

While the villagers tried to communicate with Night the wolves hunted and ate and slept, trying to gain as much strength as they could before rescuing Night.  They had an easy time finding food, with all the villagers in the village the farms were unguarded.  

That night, as the sliver of the moon rose into the sky, the pack left their den but for the pups, the wounded, and the few left behind to guard them.  The pack crept through the forest towards the village swiftly.  Once in the village they kept to the shadows and moved without making a sound.  The villagers were all asleep except for the two men guarding the shed where Night was.  The wolves followed her scent to the shed.  Battle leapt out of the shadows and killed one man, the other yelled out and ran.  Greytail darted after him but it was too late, the village was waking up.  As the panicked villagers ran into the town hall for shelter the wolves threw themselves against the door of the shed to open the door.  After a few shoves the hinges gave way and Night hurried out.  Scrap chewed through the rope tying her wrists together and she was free.  The pack surrounded her, licking her and rubbing her with their noses.  Night did the same.  

Once all the wolves had greeted Night they stalked towards the town hall.  All the two-legs were in there.  The two-legs had killed, hurt, and stolen their packmates.  The wolves took turns slamming their weight against the sturdy door.  They could smell the two-legs fear.  Finally the door gave way and Night led the way into the town hall, the pack following behind her.  

All the two-legs were huddled in the back of the building except for the ones at the front with their steel claws.  The wolves formed a loose semi circle around the two-legs, growling and snarling as they bared their teeth.  

Night barked an order to the wolves and they stopped advancing.  Battle growled at Night but also stopped.

“Person stop.”  Night said in a rough guttural voice.  “Not kill.”  She mimed a gun.  “Kill wolves kill person.”  She stopped and growled trying to find words she knew.  “Not scare food.  Wolves not kill.  Hungry.  Person scare food.  Wolves kill.”  

The woman who had spent two days trying to talk to Night tentatively stood up.  “What do you mean?  What food?”  She asked in a shaky voice.

“Food.”  Night mimed eating.  

“Scare food, do you mean the animals?”  The woman asked.

“Food.”  Night repeated.

“I-I think she means that we scare away the animals, and the wolves are hungry because there’s less for them to hunt.”  The woman told the villagers.

“Person not scare food.  Wolves not hungry not kill.”  Night said.

“We,” the woman gestured to the villagers, “not scare food.  You,” she gestured to the wolves, “not kill people or eat our, “again she gestured to the villagers, “animals, our food.”  

“Person not scare food, wolves not kill person, not kill person food.”  Night agreed.

“Yes, good.”  The woman said, nodding her head enthusiastically.  

“Two-legs not scare animals, pack stop kill two-legs and two-legs animals.”  Night barked to the wolves.

“Yes.”  Battle agreed.  Slowly the pack began backing out of the town hall until just Night was left.

“Stay, you’re like us, a person, not a wolf.”  The woman called out to her.

“Wolf.  Not person.  Wolf, pack.”  Night said and followed her pack outside and into the forest.  

 

   

        

Reviews

[HeatherWoodard]

I love your story! Maybe one day you could make a second part :)
You're a really good writer!

[Daisygirl]

It was supposed to be a longer piece so this is a bit of a compact version.

[HeatherWoodard]

Oh okay, cool

[RomaJ]

I was enthralled by this tale of a feral child. A little heart wrenching, lost at 3 years old. Your story was gripping with a lot of bite. I enjoyed this treasure very much.

[Daisygirl]

Thanks so much, I really appreciate your kind words.