NOTE: All characters belong to me, so you can use them, but you have to ask me permission first. (except for the great white wolf, but she's only mentioned)

Tark was sleeping peacefully. He was only a pup, and he enjoyed being awake, especially the summer nights. He was six months old, and growing very quickly.

The pack leader was Tuwawi. He was a large, gray wolf. But unfortunately, because he was the alpha wolf, and had not found a mate before he had become the alpha, he had no time to find a possible mate, let alone get to know her.

Tark's father Palartok, was Tuwawi's brother. They were very close, and Palartok was always Tuwawi's right hand man. Palartok's mate, and Tark's mother was Akrittok. Palartok was light gray, and Akrittok had a cream colored coat.

Nobody could understand the pups. There was Ikkuma, with her fur as red as blood. There was Dream, with her coat darker brown than had been seen in the pack ever before. There was Mist, as white as snow, and Chief with his gray coat as blue as the sky. There was Illamar with her coat as silver as the moon, and Tark, with his coat blacker than night itself.

Since Tark was Tuwawi's favorite nephew, the pack suspected that he was next in line to be the pack alpha. The pack had suspected that Tuwawi would pass on his position to his nephew.

The pack didn't mind. Tark was a good wolf. He was friendly, wise for his age, and unusually level-headed for his age. He was always helpful, and did as he was told. He was very quiet, and payed attention to whatever he was told. He seemed almost too good to be true.

His mother was very worried. Her family had a history of poor eyesight, and Tark, having a coat so dark, should have had very dark eyes. His eyes were bluer than the sky, and brighter than the day. Akrittok had already suspected that he was almost blind, but was too afraid of being useless to admit it.

“Akrittok, Tuwawi wishes a word with us.” Palartok said quietly.

Akrittok nodded, and followed her love over the ridge. He lead her to the place where he and his brother always met to discuss important matters. It was important to the alpha, and very few wolves knew about it.

It was in a moonlit grove of pine trees. A large grove of trees, surrounding a large, flat rock that bordered the wide river. Tuwawi was perched on the edge, watching the water run over the rocks, occasionally getting splashed.

“Brother, I would like to discuss Tark with you.” Tuwawi began.

“I guessed it would be about Tark.” Palartok replied quietly.

“I would like to leave him heir, until I find a mate, and successfully have pups. You were lucky. I have not been so. Tark will make a wonderful leader when I'm gone.” Tuwawi explained.

“I think that would be acceptable. What do you think, my love?” Palartok asked, looking at Akrittok.

“No. Tark is almost blind, and I fear that he will be fully blind by the time he is full grown.” Akrittok sighed.

“Blind? He can't be!” Tuwawi replied.

“I have a family history of blindness. Unfortunately, I believe that Tark was cursed with blindness, as was my mother. I think that he just doesn't want to be deemed as useless, so he keeps it quiet.” Akrittok explained.

“While he can still see, I want him to be my heir.” Tuwawi replied.

“When his sight is gone, I don't want him to be the leader. I would rather him not be your heir now, as he is almost blind.” Akrittok sighed. “He may be your heir.”

“Thank you.” Tuwawi finished.

The trio returned to the pack grounds, and settled down to sleep. It was not a relaxing sleep or any of the three, as they were each wondering if they had made the right decision.

*

Tark woke in the darkness. He had heard something that had startled him. His heart was beating very quickly in his chest. His head pounded and throbbed. He had a headache from the strange noise.

There wasn't even a scent on the gentle breeze that night. He looked around, all the other pack members were asleep. He figured that he must have dreamed it, so he went back to sleep without much more thought.

*

Tark awoke to a familiar sound. Two weeks ago, he had first been awoken by that sound. It had happened every night, since then. It was a horrible sound. The dream would never progress from that sound, as it would always wake him up.

Tonight, the sound came accompanied by a strange smell. The other pack members were awake. They had heard it to. Tonight, it was no dream. Tonight, it was real. It was real, and it sickened Tark. He hated that sound, but kept quiet.

“Humans!” Tark heard his mother scream.

The sound came again. Three times, with seconds in between. He watched in horror, as his mother dropped to the ground, a red circle in the side of her skull. Two other wolves also dropped seconds after the noises, both with similar circles on their bodies.

More of the frightful noises. More wolves dropping. They were losing. Tark knew that. Tark decided he didn't want to wait for anyone else. He leaped up. Everyone around him was in panic, and he was trampled by adult wolves three times as he dashed away.

Then, there was a searing pain in his hind leg. He yelped loudly in pain. The pain temporarily paralyzed him, and he stumbled, becoming a heap on the summer ground. There was blood, smoke, screaming, and death in the air.

Tark was absolutely petrified. He quickly got up, and began to run again. His leg was causing so much pain, that every time he put his left hind paw down for a second, he was temporarily paralyzed.

He just kept running, tears running down his face. He knew what they were. They were humans, and they had guns. Guns were used to kill, and humans disliked wolves.

He knew that there was no turning back. His parents were dead. His brothers and sisters were dead. His uncle was dead. His entire pack was dead. He might even be dead, his spirit running while his body lies with the rest of the pack, but he didn't think so.

Tark eventually found a place to hide. He had been running for a while now, and was exhausted. He collapsed in his hiding place and licked the blood off of his left hind leg.

There was a silver piece of metal embedded in his leg. He managed to work the piece of metal out of his leg, but it only made his leg bleed more. He was exhausted, and fell asleep, licking the blood off of his wound.

*

Tark's mind couldn't move on. He dreamed of that horrible happening the second that he fell asleep. He woke up to darkness, and the second he fell back asleep, he dreamed the awful nightmare again. The memory wouldn't leave him.

Tark finally gave up on getting some sleep. He rested his head on his front paws and cried some more. He had soon cried himself dry. He was so thirsty, but his leg was too sore.

* 

Tark knew it was all his fault. He had been thinking about it. He was very hungry, but he decided he needed punishment, so did not leave to find food. He hadn't eaten in four days.

He hated himself for killing them. He should have told them about his dream, instead of ignoring it. He could have saved them. He could have saved his mother, his father, his siblings, his uncle, his pack. He was an awful wolf.

For not warning them about the hunters, he had turned his back on them. Everyone that he had loved, everyone who had respected. They were all dead, because of him. He had turned his back on them by not telling them.

Through fresh tears, Tark called out into the darkness. “Oh, Great White Wolf! I promise that I'll never turn my back on another wolf as long as I live!”