there to be found.

And one day, the older Jack looked in the eyes of one of his sons, and he saw the look of confusion, of uncertainty. The look that must have been in his own eyes, all those years ago. He nodded to himself; it was time. And that night, he looked proudly at his pack for one last time, and then walked quietly away.

He got along by himself for a little while, but he couldn't seem to catch his breath the way he used to, couldn't run for long. And then one day, as he was trying to catch a rabbit, his legs simply failed him; he went down in a heap, and there was no pain, only a wave of numbness that started in his hindquarters and quickly worked its way forward. I'm dying, he realized, just as the nothingness reached his head, and everything went black, and quiet, and warm, and wet...

...and he felt the pressure pushing him out into the cold.

And just before his mind fogged over, Jack realized, through the help of the white wolf, that he'd gotten his own third wish after all. 

THE END.