geting to him, too. But he had truth in his eyes.
 "I-I'm sorry, Kach. But, I don't believe you."
 A dagger stabbed through his heart, ripping and tearing him apart into tiny little pieces. The words, those words, I don't believe you. She might as well have said I don't trust you. The tearing and ripping was dragging down on his heart, pulling him into the darkness. His own mate, after years of love, did not have faith in him. A twang of hate knotted in his gut.

At the meeting Latch and Toma were glad to see that he was safe. But they were not so happy about his fairytale. A shadow attacked him? A ghost, pale grey, a moon of it's own, pelting across the park, hunting the living. Kach had gone out of his mind. The race for the squirrel must have mangled his brains. It was impossible! On the other hand, it's impossible that a pack of wolves live in Central Park and only come out at night.
 "I swear!" he howled. "It told me a message: 'Take this warning. Fear us, fear the Shadows. On your life, on your family, on your blood.' Well I promise you I am not lying on my life, family and blood."
 "Kill him!" someone shouted. A year later that someone turned out to be Tooth.
 "Kach, please-" Lei tried to comfort him.
 "No!" Kach exploded, and erupting volcano, spewing lava made of feelings. "I am this pack's leader, so why would I lie? We have enough enemies as it is so why would I make a new one up? I've sworn on my life, family and blood and you still don't believe me! Why don't you believe me?!" He took flight before anyone could answer. It wasn't in his nature to whine or sulk, just feel angry. Now it replaced his blood, surging through his viens, spreading through his entire body, growing all the time. Anger became hate, hate became jealousy, and jealousy became fear. He was afraid that he could not control his pack anymore. If they would not believe him, how would they obey him?

She was alone in the musky cave. The walls, thick with slime, were made of stone. All around her the slippery goo ran down the enclosure fencing. The ceiling, wet and mossy, was lying low above her head. There was a dip in the floor where leaves had been gathered to make a suitible bed. The tunnel leading outside was half blocked with mud and pebbles. Only the drip, drip, drip of water sounded. Other than that, complete silence.
 Sunset, the orange glow, lit up the floor of the cave. The light drizzle that had decended picked up to a thundery storm, and as the clouds began to close in, then orange glow was gone. How was he? She needed to know. By where the sun was it was six pm, closing time soon. But no-one was out in the cruel weather, and it was already dark. Silently she crept out from hiding, and made her way across the outcrop.
 The rain matted her thick fur. She was now black from ear to tail. The wind tugged at her, teasing her to loose her step. It was a grueling batlle. Though the second cave entrance was only a few hundred meters away, the elements were determined to make the rocks become a mountain. Finally, she saw it. A deep crack in the flat side of a boulder. The crevis spread wider towards the bottom, and the darkness. The never ending shaft. From afar one would think that it was just a marking, or grafiti made by the youth of today, but it was a tight tube, even for her. She found herself crawling on her belly, head on the floor, ears and tail flat. Then her nose touched the cilly air. Space, large, beautiful space. She pulled the rest of her body in and crept to the pile of fur that was curled up on the ground.
 "Sir?" she said. Her voice was soft, a slightly higher pitch than average. She was whispering, for the room echoed every noise, every pitter-patter from outside, every footstep, every sniff. The pile moved. Lifting it's head, it blinked, adjusting it's vision.
 "Sweet?" it said, it's pitch low and gruff. It was truely shocked. "W-why are you here? Has the sun set yet?"
 She shook her head and explained her meaning.
 "Ah, the enemy is warned. That's my girl." it smiled, then put it's head down and closed it's eyes.
 "Um, Sir?" she said "I came to see you though. You know, spend some time together?"
 There was no answer.
 "Urgh! Sometimes I think that you don't love me!" she shouted at it. She was about to leave the cave when it replied.
 "I'm sorry, Sweet. It's just, if this is going to work, the attack you see, I need to plan things carefully. We will have more troops in a year's time. Strong and tough, just like their father." He stood up. "I assure you, you mean more to me than life itself."
 She looked at him. Narrowing her eyes, concentraiting on his pupils, she could see a lie. Or was it just the light? He would never betray her, how could she be so selfish? He needed space, and she came and disturbed him. She nodded, and left.

4

Adults

By now the pups were, well, no longer pups. They were almost fully grown. Skills, strrength and intelligence had all been enhanced. With January coming to an end, the snow was melting and February promised a new start. Winter, but not cold. Spring, but not blossoming. That inbetween bit, hovering on the borderline, sitting on the fence. Bluebells were up but there were no chicks. The snow was gone but there were no insects. The children were fully grown but they were not quite adults.
 But the sites of spring were here. The cheeping of birds: robins, pidgeons and jays. The trickling stream running from the Balto Statue to the lake. New buds were appearing on the trees each day, until, finally, after a long winter, a flower bloomed.
 "Blossom, in winter?" Akila pondered. Latch took her side.
 "Humans." he laughed. "When will they stop melting the winters?"
 "I wish I could see the blossom," said a voice "I've never seen one before."
 Akila and her brother turned to see Nila. She was tall and sleek, with a shining coat, almost glowing from the light of the full moon. Pure white, even her eyes. The four pink scars on her face were healing slowly, and she looked magnificent to any young wolf.
 Buck walked past from behind her. She was blind but not death. Losing one tool had strengthened her other senses. Each spieces, each breed, each indervidual had their own footfall.
 "Hello, Buck." Nila said softly. Just softly, not a whisper, not freiendly or cold, mesterious but plain. Masking her true emotions was her talent.
 He did not answer, but stormed past the others. The light breeze wafted his fur, truffle brown and downy textured. He sat on the rocks overlooking the Norhtern half of the park and stared into the night.
 She was out there, somewhere. He knew it. Deep down in his heart, there was something, something clingling to him, refusing to loosen it's grip by an inch. He sighed, and waited.

She waited in the darkness. Alone, for the time being. The cave, damp and stinking to high heaven of dead leaves, was cold and silent. The rain had stopped, but the ground was still heavily wet. This was a time for thinking. She put her head between her outstretched front legs, and closed her eyes.
 Remember.
 She was flying through her past, like an eagle, gliding and diving, watching and waiting. But no matter how much she waited, nothing apppeared. Silnce, blackness. The earliest memory, the under side of the tree canopy, and a shadow. A figure, silouhetted against the unfamiliar surrounding. After that came all she knew, but before, nothing. Just black. But that one thing, almost imvisible, hiding in the very corner of her memory:
 The Bro-
 "Am I interrupting you?" said a voice, a voice she knew well. Then it was gone, the vision. Forever.
 "Sir, I was just... resting." she replied.
 He walked over and lay down next to her. She greeted him with a kiss.

The rabbit sat on the lawn. Then it was gone, and reappeared in Tooth's jaws. Jo praised him with a lick, which was more like an insult to him.
 "Mum! Get the Caluk off me!" Tooth shouted.
 "Give over, I'm just loving you!"
 "You mean mothering."
 She shied away at this, her feelings hurt. "But I am your mother."
 "Yeah, but I'm grown up now, mum," he explained "I don't like being mothered."
 Jo whined.
 "But it doesn't mean I don't love you anymore." he comforted. But words hurt feelings, and feelings are only recovered by actions. Toma took his son's side.
 "She knows, she just can't help feeling upset because you're not her baby anymore." he said quietly.

Difa and Targ were alone on the grass. Both knew that there was nothing to talk to each other about, and so nothing was said. Listening to the world: birds, water, traffic. It was all very relaxing. Kach wandered over to them.
 "Hey son." he smiled.
 "Hi dad."
 He plopped himself down on the verge. There was a longing in his eyes, a longining to talk, Alpha to Alpha-to-be, father to son. Difa noticed their need for space and left.
 "What is it dad?" Targ asked. His tone was truely interested, caring in a way. Could he help his father? How?
 "You know when I said a Shadow attacked me, the ghost?" Kach answered quietly. His son nodded. "I can't get it off my mind. I can't speak openly to anyone beacuse they all think I'm mad." He stopped. Then said blankly, "Do you think I'm mad?"
 Targ chose his words carefully before replying. "It certainly seems imppossible." he said. Then continued quickly, "But