Haunted Wood and the rest be sent to hell

Razor sharps parted as he laughed, before the metallic clinking drew his attention downward. It was such a curious, foreign object. He knew what humans were, to a degree, knew their guns and fences and most of all their flesh. The scent made a connection in his mind...wolf-not-wolfs that could kill a wolf for getting too close to human dens and for killing the prey they hoarded. This kid had once belonged to man. Perhaps he still did. 
"If you can't hold off a tree, how do you expect to protect your pack someday? Hm?" 
He knew he was being a bit harsh, and hoped the kid didn't take it personally. He was young and clumbsy- at the age where most young wolves were abandoning their puphood and starting as apprentices. " Next time look at what you grab. Pulling branches and roots is good- it builds muscle in the places a fighter needs it most. But for Fenris' sake watch what you tug on. Be observant." 
He didn't know his family? It was unfortunate, but a story he was used to hearing. 
"Doesn't matter. Your pack is your family. Doesn't matter where you come from or what you done. You dedicate yourself to only two wolves. Yourself and your Alpha. And if your Alpha isn't fit to lead, you make yourself fit to."