Life began typically for Jeremiah, as he grew up in the safety of his birth pack, headed by his mother — a lone alpha female — and a close-knit family of fifteen wolves. Their homeland was an expansive territory nestled in the heart of Wood Buffalo National Park, where the untouched plains and riverbeds spread for miles on end. They lived side-by-side with great buffalo herds, and became renowned hunters, famous for their skill in taking down these rampaging beasts despite the obvious dangers. With the promise of full bellies and peaceful relations with neighboring packs, the Sterling Delta could only be the perfect place to raise a family.

His father was never in the picture, or if he was, Jeremiah was too young to remember. His mother spoke of him fondly enough. When he'd ask, his mother was always content to describe what he looked like: how his fur was the color of night, and his eyes like glimmering pools of sapphire. He was something called a "dispersal wolf", a creature who always wandered and whose scent forever carried the aromas of faraway lands. Jeremiah often imagined his father to be a big, strong male, a fearless warrior who trampled those who defied him beneath his paws. Apparently it wasn't too far from the truth — his mother said he had a lot of scars.

Puphood was filled with food, sleep, and play. Lots of it. There were plenty of young ones running amok — including four of Jeremiah's own littermates and several cousins of similar age. Most of the children's time was spent sorting out dominance over one another. For Jeremiah — affectionately known as "Jem" to the other pups — it didn't take much to rile him up. He was quick to initiate a scuffle over just about anything, and even with the adults nearby, the other youngsters were often made to play the role of punching bag. He quickly became a dominant figure among the pups. Jem played rough, talked tough and romped around like nothing could touch him. Early on, he had a knack for getting into trouble and was especially infamous for dragging his willing followers down with him. Like many pups, he was naturally curious and eager to explore the world around him. That, coupled with his own stubborn streak and reckless nature rewarded him with a lot of scrapes and bruises and even more stern words from his mother.

At the turn of his first year, Jem radiated a sense of wanderlust and was only too eager to answer the call of the wild. Matured from his puppy antics (mostly), it was time for him to set out on his own. Five days after his birthday, Jem bid his farewells to his family and left the familiar confines of his birth pack. From there he traveled north beyond the borders of the park and into unknown territory. The boy was off to find bigger and better things, to become a dispersal wolf just like his father and learn what it meant to survive. Perhaps in time he would find companionship, a mate, sire pups of his own. The world was at his paws, and no matter what, he promised himself to discover every secret it held.