of the lure and the trap was lost as well. Where before to a one our hunts succeeded, now fully half or more of our hunts failed. We went hungry some days and many nights.
“As winter raged on, game became increasingly scarce. My pack had to range farther and farther away to pick up scents. During the long dark nights, I joined my brothers and sisters howling at the moon and begging the Lords of the Night for help. But no help came.
“I blamed the deep snows and bone-baring cold. I never thought to blame Song of the Moon, though I should have. Instead I looked inward. I became bitterly disappointed in myself. I no longer believed that I deserved to be alpha. I despaired and my heart ached.”
“By spring, I’d lost a quarter of my pack to hunger and cold. I told myself that what happened in winter didn’t matter. I grew the pack, kept every pup from every litter. The wolves that survived from the previous year’s litters were stronger now, more capable.
“I taught them the hunt and the kill as I’d been taught. There was no time for the lure and the trap though, as we spent all of our time ranging farther and farther to get the game we needed to survive.
“Oh, how we hunted. We were fearless taking whatever we found for our own. One of our greatest hunts came just before winter, a she-bear and her two cubs.
“Bears are ferocious beasts. As we set upon them, the she-bear reared on her hind legs to protect her cubs. She took Running Mountain, the greatest of my pack, with one swipe, flinging him against a tree and breaking his back in an instant.
“I didn’t see the mercy of such a swift kill then. I knew only my fury. My rage fueled our ravenous attack. A dozen wolves circled the she-bear, attempting to take her bite by bite while she swiped and roared. I lost two more of my pack, Grey Son of Deer Killer and Yellow Moon in Shadow. Grey Son to her powerful paws, Yellow Moon to her jaws.
“But setting her jaws into Yellow Moon was the first of the she-bears many mistakes, for once she’d latched on she needed to maintain her hold until Yellow Moon was finished. While she shook her head and thrashed, the pack set upon her en masse, tearing into her fur and flesh over and over. After that, it was a matter of waiting while she bled and weakened.
“If there’s one thing wolves know, it’s patience. We took the cubs while we waited. One on a cloudless morning near a swift-running river. The other after the cub wandered down and over a rise away from the she-bear. I’ll never forget the mournful roars of the she-bear upon discovering what remained of her cubs.
“Her cries of rage were things a radiant beauty, as moving as any somber opera ballad, as sincere as any broken-hearted lover’s poem. It was as if one of the Lords of Night had come down from the dark sky and kissed my forehead while whispering in my ear. The she-bear lost her will to fight after losing both her cubs and we took her inside a rounded hollow as she sought to retreat to her winter cave.”
“Fattened on our bounty, I felt we were ready for the winter, but I was wrong. Once again, game became increasingly scarce and we ranged farther and farther to find new quarry to hunt. As our hunts started to fail more often than they succeeded and the snows deepened, hunger set in.
“Hunger during the long cold season is not unknown to wolves, but I again saw it as my failure. When Little Hound, the first born of the spring litters, died, I cried out to the Lords of Night, much as the she-bear had cried out for her cubs. I vowed I would do whatever it took to sustain us all.”
“But that’s understandable,” said the girl quickly when the zombie paused. “I mean, wouldn’t anyone have done the same in such circumstances?”
“Is it really so understandable?” The zombie looked at the girl. Her eyes never moved from his and in those eyes the zombie found the emotion he had been