Duck Lake living with the ducks

Swiftcurrent Creek's population rarely dipped below seventeen, and more often than not it was full to bursting. To stand at the head of twenty wolves was a source of pride and nervousness in equal parts for Bazi, whose family pack had not been half that size. The threat of overthrowal by a particularly ambitious upstart was never far from her mind, and she scrutinized each new applicant from all sorts of angles. Are they stronger than me? Prettier? Will they lure Scimitar away? Are they healthy? Sociable? The list went on, and she was less lenient the bigger the pack became.

The sheer size of the pack made her less concerned to find a strange wolf frolicking crouching in the grass near Duck Lake. In a past life, she might have summoned a small group to chase him off, but today she only watched to see what the creature would do. He was as young as she had been on that first night as a Swiftcurrent wolf, but his broad, stocky build made him look older. Bazi guessed two, possibly three - it was difficult to tell from her hiding place near the trees, partially disguised by the white aspen that grew near the water's edge. In the summer, it was the only background that allowed her to blend in.

Much to Bazi's dismay, a wayward gust of wind chose that exact moment to steal through the trees. It sampled her scent and carried it - along with the whispered fragments of an irritated sigh - right into the duck hunter's nose.