A shadow moved through the nighttime woods, sliding with ease between the sturdy young oaks in this part of the wilderness. Moonlight slipped through the leafy canopy, reflecting off the occasional rock that poked through the ground here and there. The shadow avoided those pockets of luminescence without even thinking about it.

Little Wolf traveled by instinct, his paws barely touching the ground. His mind was unable to truly focus on his surroundings. He hadn't wandered these woods since the night his mother died a year ago. Memories of his dad's desperate howl, his mother's mangled body, filled his mind. He headed deeper into the woods, where the hardwoods grew bigger and the underbrush was less pervasive.

There was a way to move through the nighttime forest that his dad simply referred to as gliding- an easy loping pace, low to the ground. Ghosting, Mom had called it, flitting like a free-moving spirit wisping through the trees.

Are you ghosting with me now, mom?

A silver streak flashed in his periphery, making him lose his stride for a moment. His dad would have his hide for getting distracted. Little Wolf glanced around, hoping to catch another glimpse of whoever was in the forest with him tonight. It couldn't have been his dad, whose fur was a solid black.

A sad, long, drawn-out howl had him gathering speed, all of his senses straining forward.

He sought the hills and ridges above the river, not too far from where his mom's life had ended. He had to smile, his canines glistening in the moonlight, as he caught his cousin's scent. It was the way among his mother's people for a young man to spend the night alone in the forest to seek his spirit helper through dreams. For his cousin to choose tonight of all nights...

As much as he had enjoyed spending the last month with his cuz, he missed his dad's companionship. It had become common for his dad to take off for a night or two since his mom's death, but this last time he hadn't come back. The level of grief he had just heard in his dad's howl made him wonder if he would be able to break through his dad's suffering enough to bring him home.

Another howl off to his left, announcing the presence of another wolf, made him pick up his pace. A third howl from behind him sent chills up his spine. This was his family's territory. There hadn't been any normal, regular wolves around here for a long time. Dad had always kept the area well marked.

Little Wolf kept waiting to hear a response from his dad. He heard the hoot of an owl, the breeze along the trees, but nothing from his dad. Little Wolf sought higher ground, moving around the gullies that would slow him down. His paws scrabbled against the loose pebbles underfoot.

Two more howls, and then another, quickly followed by three more. Little Wolf altered his path, headed unerringly to the spot he knew his cousin would have gone to begin his spirit journey. He sprinted, claws scrambling, toward the place where his mother, River Woman, had breathed her last. He wasn't going to let his cousin alone with a real wolf pack around, no matter the spiritual importance of his cousin's solitary journey into the wilderness.

He let out a call of his own, two attention-getting yaps followed by his own short howl as he caught a stronger, fresher whiff of his cousin's scent. Come on, Dad, he thought, you have to know he's here. I can't protect him from a whole wolfpack on my own! He came to a sudden stop, snout to face with the son of his mother's brother.

I think I just scared ten years growth out of you, cuz, Little Wolf thought with a hint of a grin.

The two stared at each other a moment, man and beast, when they were both startled by a humorous snort coming from the rise above them. Little Wolf sat back on his haunches, wagging his tail at the big black shadow that separated itself from a nearby bush. Eyes that reflected the moonlight stared down at them. His dad only showed himself briefly before sliding back out of view.

Really Dad?

Little Wolf looked up at his cousin, who had no idea the beast in front of him was anything more than a wolf. Little Wolf wagged his tail again, wishing for a camera so he could capture the look of fear and confusion on Running Elk's face.

A low growl from behind him caused him to spin around, hackles raised. He placed himself squarely in front of his human cousin. The light grey timber-wolf facing him was showing teeth and hanging low, testing boundaries.

Little Wolf was suddenly aware of the rest of the invading pack around them as his cousin cussed, moving further back against the wall of dirt behind him. Two more males, both darker grey than the leader, and a rarer russet-colored female ranging nearby. The old silver he had glimpsed earlier was off to the side and above them. And, there, the sixth timber wolf, a female about to have a litter, hanging back behind her mate.

This pack was challenging for den territory. They wouldn't understand that he didn't care about territory like they did. His unwanted opponent growled again, stepping forward. Little Wolf felt his hackles rise as he snarled back at his adversary. He got a glimpse of his cousin, carefully reaching down to grab an old fallen tree limb, eyes focused on the showdown before him.

Their confrontation was interrupted by a howl reverberating through the forest. It seemed to come from a place beyond what mere distance could account for. It started off with the new wolf announcing its presence, transforming into an invitation for others to join in. The howl drew out into a song appreciating the silver-tinged night before fading into an anticipating silence.

Little Wolf was shocked when his dad's voice let loose in a song devoid of grief. It sang of the beautiful light from the moon, the accompanying sound of the rushing water from the nearby river, and the scent trails of their present company mixed with the familiar scents of family. The old silver wolf added his voice. Little Wolf could hear the many years of experience embedded in the old wolf's long, undulating, drawn out howl.

Little Wolf looked at his antagonist, who seemed equally unsure about what to do next. Both of them stepped back as another wolf slid in between the two of them. Silver, but not with age, she ghosted up to him.

Little Wolf felt his fur stand on end as if he was being overwhelmed with static. The voice of the ethereal wolf sounded again, even as its ghostly form blurred slightly, flowing upward, re-forming into the image of his mother as he remembered her from his childhood. Little Wolf didn't even think as he howled out, his wolf-song expressing his sudden joy and love as fingers made of silver light seemed to move through his fur. He changed, muscles stretching and joints adjusting just enough to stand on two legs, his body still covered in fur. He moved his mostly-human arms to embrace her. He found himself awkwardly grinning as he realized how foolish trying to hug his mom's ghostly image was. He shifted back to four legs even as she did. Their voices joined in the deepening night; his dad's song making it complete.

The soon-to-be daddy wolf hesitantly raised his voice, his song strengthening as his mates notes coupled with his. There was a lull, a comfortable warmth in which Little Wolf moved up against his cousin's leg. He looked up at his human cousin with another wolffish grin.

His dad's voice began the next chorus. The ethereal wolf moved in that direction even as her ghostly song filled the night once more. The rest of the new pack, deciding there would be no fight, added to the moonlit melody.

After a while the other wolves drifted away, leaving Little Wolf with his cousin. Thinking of the elders' injunction against changing in front of others, Little Wolf almost hesitated. In his whole tribe, only the elders knew about him and his parents being werewolves, and the elders wanted to keep it that way. His cousin might not have recognized him through the fur he had when he had shifted upright.

After this night and what he's already seen, what the heck. Little Wolf shifted completely, rising up to two legs, becoming fully human once more. He reached out to put a hand on Running Elk's shoulder. Little Wolf could hear his cousin's heart beating furiously as he gently pulled the thick piece of deadwood from his cousin's slackening grasp.

"Looks like we both met our spirit animal tonight, cuz," he said jokingly. Somehow he didn't think his mother's ghost qualified for the spirit guide his cousin had come out to find.

Little Wolf's own spirit filled with a profound sense of family as he continued to grin at his near-panicking yet stoic cousin. Little Wolf had a new-found peace in the ever-deepening night concerning his mother's death, and could only hope his father would as well.

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