Chapter 26

Days turned to weeks, then to months. The project of clearing away the remnants was going smoothly. The more the warriors of the packs cleared out, the more those of lower tiers could terraform the world in the new image. They picked apart what the humans had left, remodeling and recycling.

It was mostly females with pups or elders that remained a step behind the warriors, doing the slow work. As Mila had predicted, since the night of the harvest moon, Winnie had begun to change and as months pressed on, her belly swelled with cubs. It gave her higher status in the pack, which she used to strengthen the bonds of her pack and climb higher on the social ladder.

Though Mila remained with the warriors the majority of the time, she could sense the changes of the majority of the pack. The warriors meshed together well, but the females were drawing a divide. Winnie was actively promoting good relations with other species.

Whenever Mila was around, Winnie was content to have her close. Since Mila had shown a liking for younger generations, Winnie created a segway for her to interact more with the pups. Her story times with them turning into actual classes.

Mila was allowed closer and closer to the alpha tables during meals and meetings, Jed in tow as she became more accepted. Though most still recoiled from Jed, Winnie proudly allowed him to touch her swelling belly, without so much as a flinch.

But a second faction was in the making. Kiara had her own group that actively shunned Mila and Jed. Expressions turned sour whenever Mila entered a room with them. Pups were pulled away from lessons and chided.

Jed lowered his head to Mila’s shoulder when he noticed her smile drop. He breathed soft, cool words against her skin. “Can’t be helped.”

Mila nodded. She didn’t necessarily mind that they were cold toward her or didn’t want her to teach their children. It wasn’t unusual to be held in contempt or feared.

What bothered her was what she sensed brewing underneath. She felt certain that Jed was aware of it too. It wasn’t just a dislike for her, but a barrier being formed between wolves and others.



The expansion process meant that eventually they were to meet others. Wolves were not alone in carving out a safe home in what was left behind. As they crept closer toward Maine, the wolves met a coven of witches.

The coven functioned like a commune. Entirely women, they tended to a vast farm growing out-of-season agriculture. They were friendly and adaptable and capable of air travel which the wolves were sorely lacking.

Mila was quite pleased to meet them. Of all species to meet, they were perhaps the best for making connections. All the better for reaching out further and welcoming others into the new world.

Kody’s pack and their allies were open to the new connection. Winnie even showing a keen interest in their earth magicks which promoted fertility. Kiara’s following were resistant with things not getting much better from there.



The next encounter Mila had with another species came in the sewers. She could hear the wolf cubs growing excited from a distance. The unicorn came cantering toward her, its eyes wild and head tossing anxiously.

Mila’s lips curled back from her teeth as she followed it toward the children. They were in a frenzy, converging on some creature that made no effort to fight.

At first glance, it appeared to be a child-sized lizard curl into a ball. The pups jeered and howled, taking turns pouncing upon it and trying to rip its limbs.

Mila snarled, pitching her voice to create a high tone that made the wolves turn to look at her. “Enough, pups. Leave the poor creature be.”

Tails wagged slowly. Several of them looked ready to mutiny, but Mila stepped coolly forward. She approached the small being curled up with the filth.

“It’s alright, little one. It’s alright now. I’m sorry they scared you.” Mila murmured softly, extending a slow hand.

The wolf pups growled nervously. They circled like sharks, earning a sharp glare. The unicorn pawed the ground, bleating.

Once she was crouched next to the creature, Mila could see that it had limbs like a human. Its body was dark and desiccated, but unlike the remnants, did not appear to be rotting. Its skin was tough, without discernable muscle, the joints knarled to resemble tree limbs twisted together.

The creature’s head was smooth and elongated. Paler than the rest of its body, it looked to be wearing a headdress made of bone. Mila extended a hand to pat its shoulder.

“Hey now, it’s alright. You’re safe.” She whispered.

It flinched under her touch. The little thing trembled. She could feel power under its rock-hard skin. The wolves hadn’t been able to make a dent on it despite numbers and it hadn’t retaliated.

“Can you understand me?”

She felt it still slightly. Possibly giving a nod.

“It’s alright now. I won’t let them hurt you.”

The head moved a little. She could see a gleam of eyes.

The creature wasn’t wearing a headdress. The bones were part of its flesh. Wide, yellow and black eyes like an owl peered up at her. From its curved, serrated beak, it made soft cooing noises.

“That’s it, sweet one. You’re alright,” Mila continued to encourage. Her hand drifted to the curved side of its face.

And then it bit her.

The wolves howled in indignation, ready to surge forward again.

“No!” Mila waved them off. “It’s fine. You’re just hungry, aren’t you?”

She cooed back and carefully lifted the childlike thing from the ground, letting it chomp on her hand. She carried it carefully out of the dank sewer, soothing it with every step.
“Winnie,” she called once she was back at the latest encampment. “Winnie, can you get some stew ready for our guest?”

Many of the females recoiled and snarled. They hurried the youngest pups away, noses wrinkled. Only Winnie dared to approach while Mila sat with creature on her lap, its beak still tightly clamped on her hand. It had broken the human skin of her hand, but it hadn’t broken her true skin.

Winnie sat a bowl of hot rabbit stew down in front Mila, taking a wary step back. “What is it?”

Mila cooed, offering it a chunk of rabbit meat. “It’s a wendigo.”