Porcupine Ridge For a mother, a brother and me

Right now Noctura was mute and mindless, a beast and nothing else, driven by nothing but the darkest of instincts. Somewhere deep inside he breathed, “I warned you, Asterr. I warned you of my true nature.” But such rationale was too buried to be conscious. It was perhaps, however, the difference between him crashing dangerously into Asterr and stopping suddenly as she leapt defensively before him.

Noctura would one day look back on this scene and know the other black wolf to be magnificent in his balance of poise and power, and some of the standers-by to be admirable in their confidence and control, but right now Noctura knew nothing except red. He didn’t hear Asterr or any of the others — he had only stopped because she was blocking his way. But the huge recluse was glaring right over her head and into the eyes of the other shadow-furred male, his growl a dim background thunder as he bristled on the edge.

The meeting continued without bloodshed, and Noctura was a shadow of unwanted violence as he stood by his Alpha as a now-stationary savage with a pair of deaf ears.