Lone Wolf Read Online Free PDF Page B

her own, but they weren't at all. It was merely the tones, the register in which they were uttered that seemed strange. She sometimes thought of it as water. The sound of water in a fast-running brook differs from the clamor of a falls or the trickle of a stream in the dry season. But it was all water. One just had to listen.
    Faolan's voice was shallower, not as deep as her own. Owls' tones varied widely. Some were almost hollow, others more sonorous, and a few screechy. None of the owls' voices were remotely like that of a bear, and yet the words were almost identical. Nevertheless, Faolan was beginning to sound slightly bearish when he spoke. He was acquiring some of the rough, back-of-the-throat sounds that were common to the grizzlies.
    And as soon as they were out of the den, Faolan scampered toward the riverbank. Thunderheart gave him a low snarl and a firm head butt to his flanks that spun Faolan around in the direction that she wanted him to follow. "This way!"
    She swung her head toward a large white pine, then  rose up halfway on her hind legs and began rubbing her back against the tree. There was a harsh scratching sound. She was leaving a scent, but it was not the odor of a female, fertile and receptive to mating. Faolan must leave a scent as well, his own scent.
    Thunderheart stared at him hard. She sensed that Faolan must do this scenting with his hindquarters. She lowered herself now and sprawled on the ground and woofed softly for him to come over as she often did when they tussled. He immediately clambered onto her back. A strong odor rose through the thick fur from the stimulated scent glands beneath her skin.
    "What's that?"
    "My scent."
    Faolan had smelled that scent before when he had ridden on her, but now it was stronger, almost overpowering, and very different from the thick sweet smell of the milk. It was a strong signal. A defensive message that this den and everything around it from the white spruce to the riverbank and up to the grove of alders belonged to Thunderheart, and to him, her pup. It triggered something in Faolan. "I can do that!"
    He sank into the thick, odiferous fur and nuzzled her neck, licking the inside of her ear and then tumbling off  to run to the nearest tree. Thunderheart watched him as he backed his hindquarters against it and lowered his tail. He is quick! Thunderheart thought. She hadn't had to explain anything, really. He had immediately understood the urgency of this scent message. What a remarkable young pup!
    A muscle at the top of Faolan's tail contracted as he began to rub against the trunk. He felt something release. Immediately, he began running about marking every tree, rock, and stump he could find. Mine! Mine! Mine! The thought coursed through his being. But this was only the beginning. As he marked, there were stirrings in other parts of his body. He began to scratch furiously at the ground. Another scent from between his toes was emitted, and the cry in his head, Mine.' Mine.' Mine.', changed to Ours.' Ours! Ours! Something had unlocked deep in his wolf history.
    But Thunderheart was the only other creature that he knew. He paused and looked at her once more. She stood by a tree that she was rubbing, not half crouched as before, but tall and majestic. She eyed him with the deep tawny light he loved so much, and yet now there was challenge in her eyes. She huffed and barked. "Come on, come on!"
    Faolan cocked his head. He began to jump up for a ride on her hump, but each time she moved to another tree before he could catch her, waving her arms and batting the branches above her.
    Some bright green leaves caught the last of the setting sun's light as they fluttered down. He leaped up to catch a leaf before it hit the ground. Thunderheart made a low amiable grunt and then shook the tree again. Faolan leaped again. They played this game for a while. Each time Faolan jumped a bit higher.
    Then Thunderheart turned from the tree and continued walking, still on her