Winter had finally bowed to the spring solstice. The first drops of dew shimmered on the grass when the pack faced its greatest loss.
Scar had fallen.
The old alpha had fought to his very last breath against a bear who, just like him, was protecting its cubs. There were no villains in that battle — only two fathers, two guardians, defending those they loved. Nature, as beautiful and cruel as ever, simply followed its course.
Scar's sons buried him beneath the split oak, the ancient shelter that had once been their family's den. His mate, already frail with age, lay beside him that same night… and simply didn't wake again. She was buried at the side of the alpha she had loved her entire life.
Sant stood motionless before the freshly turned mounds of earth.
He did not hate the bear.He did not seek vengeance.He knew the animal had done the same thing Scar had done for years: defend his own.
That night, lying beside his mate after hours of warmth, affection, and peace, Sant drifted into sleep — and dreamed.
He walked through the mists of the world of the dead, where ancient voices whispered like wind in dry branches. Then, from within the fog, Scar emerged.
"Sant, my son…" the alpha's voice echoed deep yet calm. "Do you remember the man I used to visit? Our ally among the humans?"
"I remember, Father," Sant replied, feeling his heart tighten.
"Go to him. And then… come home."
"What do you mean… come home?" Sant asked, confused.
Scar repeated, as his body dissolved like silver smoke:
"Come home."
Sant awoke with a jolt.
Beside him, his mate slept deeply — but something caught his attention. Her belly was beginning to round, subtle yet unmistakable.
He smiled, warmth blooming inside his chest.
But peace never lasts long.
Outside, a distant howl echoed. Sant lifted his head.
Loona, on the other side of the forest, did the same. On the hilltop, torches moved in formation. Her village marched again — toward the final war against their rival settlement. And the blood spilled that day would seal the fate of wolves and humans alike.
Both villages marched for hours before finally seeing each other.Two exhausted forces, wounded by decades of winter and hatred, stood face-to-face in silence.
The plain where they met was wide, white… and, ironically, it was the same field the pack of Scar had chosen as their new den.
Sant smelled it before any other wolf: metal, blood, fear, and human rage.
"Warriors, with me. Now." the young wolf growled, his voice carrying the strength Scar had left him.
The strongest rose.The experienced took their places.Inuho, still young, trembled — but followed.
Sant could not risk the pack being trapped between spears and blades. Only the warriors would defend the den. The females and pups stayed hidden among the roots of the split oak.
Sant howled a protective ritual — the one Scar had taught him, whose purpose he now finally understood.
When the human armies charged, something strange happened. The wind grew stronger. Loose snow lifted from the ground. Old winter flakes rose like ghosts. In seconds, a thick white fog engulfed the entire plain.
Humans thought it was just weather.
Sant knew better.It was ancient magic — magic of the Children of the Moon.
"Hold your ground!" he ordered, his eyes glowing like embers.
The fog was so dense even wolf senses faltered. But the growls… the growls didn't lie.
Something moved in the white darkness.
Something beyond wolves.Beyond humans.
Loona, trapped in the chaos, lifted her head as the fog surged, swallowing the battlefield. She heard weapons clash. Heard war cries. But among them, she heard something else.
A growl.Deep.Resonant.Coming from the side of the woods where her village, Momonuske, never dared to go.
"What was that…?" she whispered. No one heard.
The war raged on, but something tugged at her chest — a strange sensation, almost like a calling. Something approached in the mist. Slow… powerful… alive.
A pair of glowing eyes emerged in the whiteness.
And that was how Loona, for the first time, felt the presence of Sant — the wolf who would change her fate.
The fog wrapped around her like a living mantle. Amid steel, fire, screams, and snow, she saw him:A white wolf, eyes shining like two full moons trapped in a wild, sacred form.
Sant.
He stopped before her, silent, as if the chaos around them were nothing but distant noise. Loona felt no fear. The wolf showed no threat. What he saw in her deep eyes was pain. A pain he recognized — one inflicted by humans themselves.
For a brief stolen moment — a handful of seconds torn from destiny — Loona and Sant looked at each other like two lost creatures trying to understand the broken world they shared.
Behind them, humans butchered one another. Spears pierced shields. Swords tore flesh. Torches fell into the snow.
But none of that came from the wolves.They only watched, helpless, as human blood drenched the earth.
And then fate demanded its price.
A scream tore through the fog. Loona turned instinctively — too late.
The blade plunged into her abdomen, throwing her back. She gasped, air leaving her lungs like winter swallowing her whole. More human shadows emerged from the fog.
"Traitor! Coward! Kill her!"
A second blade fell. Then a third.
Still conscious by a thread, Loona watched her own people cut her down mercilessly. Her blood spilled onto the snow, staining it red.
Sant watched — frozen, horrified, unable to comprehend such cruelty.
The pain he had seen in her eyes faded into silence. A silence he would never forget.
One soldier, desperate or maddened by the fog, dropped his torch. It rolled straight into the opening beneath the roots of the split oak.
A sharp crack echoed. Then another. Smoke. Flames. Sant roared a howl so powerful it shattered the air.
"Retreat! Now!" he snarled at his pack.
The warriors — strongest and eldest — pushed through the fog, clearing a path as Sant sprinted into the burning den.
Smoke scorched his eyes. Dry leaves crackled.Heat grew savage.
At the very back, a newborn pup — Amê — trembled, nestled in her mother's body shielding her from the fire.
Sant shoved his head between the flaming roots, took the pup gently by the scruff, and lifted her.
She whimpered weakly.
His mate rushed toward him, desperation in her gaze.
"Sant! My baby!" Inuho cried, taking the pup with trembling care.
Around them, the warriors roared, guarding the escape as the fog swallowed the world. Sant raised his muzzle to the sky, feeling something break inside him.
The den was gone.The field was gone.The peace of his pack was gone.
But at least… at least his pack still lived.
Night finally draped its blue mantle over the shattered clearing. The pack hid behind dense bushes — silent shadows watching the ruins of their den and the field where humans, blinded by hatred, had destroyed each other.
No wolf dared approach.
Only Sant and the elder warriors remained at the front, alert to every sound. The young wolf breathed deeply — a sigh that seemed to pull the forest's air into himself.
And then… the fog returned. Thick. Living. Enchanted.
Sant blinked, confused. It had risen as if answering a call — his call. His fur stood on end as he realized what that meant.
When the white curtain finally lifted, the field showed a brutal truth:
All the humans were dead.Slain by their own blades.Consumed by the war they had started.
Sant's stomach twisted.
"Ravik. Inuho. With me," he ordered. "The rest… protect the roses and the pups."
Ravik, the strongest warrior, growled low as he approached. His amber gaze was cold as ancient ice.
"Sant, boy… you're our alpha now." He stopped beside a human corpse, grimacing. "Ugh. Human meat. Not even in death does it match the dignity of a deer."
He flicked his tail, returning to the subject. "Listen well: you have my loyalty because you're Scar's son… but not my respect. Not yet. Scar taught me everything I carry. Earn it."
Sant didn't argue. No anger, only understanding.Earning the elders' respect — especially Ravik's — would be a long fight. Ravik had never fully accepted an outsider-blood pup. But he had accepted Sant as alpha… and that was enough for now.
They reached the den. The air reeked of ash and scorched wood.
Inuho stepped around a fallen beam. "There's nothing left… Everything's gone."
Sant stared at the ruins, heart heavy. We need to move…
His mind drifted back to the dream. That distant call…
Father… what should I do? They have no home. They depend on me. And you told me to come home… but what does that mean?
He inhaled deeply. He could not hesitate.
"All who are old enough to howl… come. We need to speak."
Wolves gathered silently, forming a ritual semicircle. Eyes focused — some trusting, others fearful.
"I had a dream with Scar, our former alpha. And I believe I know what we must do."
Ravik snorted: "Believe? An alpha doesn't 'believe.' He must be certain."
Sant lifted his ears calmly — a test, and he knew it.
"I am certain," he answered, voice firm as stone. "Inuho and I will go after the human who was Scar's ally. We will return as fast as possible. Meanwhile, guard the territory. Protect the roses, the pups… and hunt enough so no one goes hungry."
Murmurs of approval spread.
"And one more thing," Sant continued. "Amê, born on the solstice… daughter of Inuho and Aemi… has been blessed."
Aemi rose proudly. "Four days ago my pup was born. And six days earlier… the Fox Goddess came to me in a dream. She roared — a gentle, protective roar — and I felt that Amê would carry a greater destiny. A gift. A blessing."
The wolves howled, celebrating the newborn — a sound of hope amid ashes.
Sant raised his muzzle. "We leave in ten minutes. Dismissed."
As the circle dispersed, Varrock — the most experienced warrior — approached with his trademark rumbling laugh.
"Hn-hn-hn… You handled Ravik's jabs well." His eyes narrowed in approval. "He's testing you. Keep showing strength, pup."
"Thank you, Varrock," Sant said, bowing his head.
"I'll take Lira and Hada hunting. Try not to die while I'm gone."
When Sant finished preparing, Inuho appeared beside him, head high and eyes determined.
"Ready."