A soft breeze wafted from the east and brought the scents of the land to the fluffy wolf. She raised her head and took in a deep breath. The strong scent of a group of wolves flooded her nostrils and she gathered that she was close to their border. She hadn’t realized that a pack was so close. She had been too distracted, first with the goat and then getting her mother settled in the cave to worry about who might live nearby.
Her ears pressed back and she turned her head to look over her shoulder at the mountain. From here it was impossible to see the cave where her mother slept but when she sniffed the air she picked up Willow’s faint scent, as well as the pack’s scent again. The smell was closer though and smelled more of one wolf than a whole group of them. Her heart sank into her stomach when she realized that one of the pack’s members must be near the mountain.
She stood, paralyzed with fear, for a few moments. Her eyes grew wide as she stared at the place where the cave was, a million different scenarios running through her head, all of them involving the death of her mother. As quickly as she froze she was moving again and turning toward back toward the mountain. She started off at a light jog but quickly burst in to a run as her anxiety grew.
While she was a running a soft noise reached her ears. She skidded to a stop and stilled her breathing so that she could listen. Again the sound broke the still air, this time clearly a whimper. Sequoia whipped her head in the direction it was coming from and called out. “Mom?!” She raced toward the small bush the whimper had come from, thinking that someone had dragged Willow away and hid her there. “Mom, is that you? Did they hurt you?” Her words ran together, making them hard to understand but the fear in her tone was obvious.
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