The moon’s ghastly white face had reached its zenith in the sky when movement stirred at the far edge of Ancients’ Clearing. A lithe, hulking shadow left the blackness of the pine trees and sauntered toward the center of the gleaming circle of smooth stone. A wolf had stepped paw into Ancients’ Clearing, one as black as the bowels of the deepest cave. His paw steps were swift and silent, and the muscles rippling beneath his rugged fur rolled smoothly in unison to carry out such practiced movements.
His eyes brimmed a fiery orange glow, as burning and intense as the angry red radiance of a dying sun. Scars, pale and harsh, crisscrossed the wolf’s broad muzzle and face, as he was an old veteran to the ways of war. He drew to a halt before the silvery snow at the Clearing’s center and reclined to his hindquarters, his massive head raised to survey the shadowed terrain that lay before him. His breath steamed from his nose in huge clouds of white mist, wreathing his maw in its ghostly presence until the thin fur there glittered with frost. The wind bothered him none, but impatience inflamed his soul as his strange, burning eyes glowered into the pressing darkness of the surrounding woodland.
He was not one to wait, and did not plan to do so for very long. The predator must be patient with his prey. A deep, rumbling growl rolled in his throat at the thought, but he did not move a muscle. This whole thing is folly. A distant snap echoed some way from the forest surrounding Ancients’ Clearing, catching the black wolf’s attention immediately. His ears trained forward, open for more sounds that would indicate the location of the culprit. Growing wary once the brooding silence fell over the woodland again, the male took in a great whiff of air, letting the icy flow of wind burn his nostrils and sear his chest. He could detect no scents beyond his own familiar musk and the brisk emptiness of night, but his eyes and ears had given enough warning that something was near.
“Alpha Reaver, you’re early!” a light, amiable voice called through the gloom. Alpha Xhero Reaver let loose a sharp snarl of annoyance as he found he recognized the carefree bark. Alpha Darium Foxhian of the Ruffian Pack was loping into Ancients’ Clearing, his fluffy coat a deep, humble shade of ginger. White fur played faintly around his narrow muzzle and splashed down his ruffled chest, but the pale coloration proved a poor reflection of his age. The russet wolf’s long, lean body was powerful and gangly with adolescence, his bones strong but still working to fill in the loose confines of his pelt. His amber eyes twinkled with the ignorance of youth, gleaming with undeterred ease and foolishness. Despite his inexperience in leadership, the russet male was quite cunning, wise in the field of battle and smooth in the art of speech. He may not be dangerous in size or strength, but his slyness and trickery could be any wolf’s undoing should he fall into the youngster’s trap of conniving wickedness. The young wolf often demonstrated characteristics of the fox of his namesake, given a moment’s consideration.
“I suppose I’d rather be late, with all the ruckus you were making out there. Anything might want to stroll in here now knowing there is the fresh meat of the Pup King awaiting it,” Reaver sneered, folding his lips back to reveal huge, gleaming fangs. His patience had run too thin, and he knew he would find no sort of comfort in becoming a pawn of the Alpha Pup’s games.
The russet wolf laughed rather merrily at the contemptuous reply, his golden eyes glittering with amusement. His bushy tail swished against his hind legs and proceeded to sweep the frost sparkling on the slick surface of the black rocks. “Quite the jester, aren’t you, Alpha Xhero?” he chuckled, flashing a cool grin toward the other male. “I may be young, but I am an Alpha, and Alpha Foxhian is my rightful name, as you very well know.” His amusement faded some as he forced a steady gaze between him and the solemn black wolf, but the glimmering liveliness in his eyes never dimmed.
Alpha Reaver snarled again, his face contorting into an ugly mask of scorn and anger. “You will always be a little puppy to me,” he retorted with a flick of his furry ears. Foxhian held a strange look with Reaver, but the moment was brief. The russet wolf settled himself down in front of the snow pile opposite the Clearing of Alpha Xhero.
“We will discover who the Pup truly is when this Spirit-forsaken meeting is commenced,” Alpha Foxhian murmured levelly. Reaver knew the Pup King despised being thought of as the weakest and smallest of the group because of his youthful reign. He fought hardest to prove he was just as strong and courageous as the other Alphas, but many still upheld the Little Alpha with much impatience and a scant bit of respect.
At Alpha Foxhian’s peculiar threat, Reaver moved to stand, his muscles preparing for a well-calculated lunge that would send him slamming into the Pup King’s furry white chest. Before he could even utter a growl, however, another wolf strode briskly into Ancients’ Clearing. Alpha Reaver froze in his steps, his orange eyes zeroing in on the newcomer.
He was much larger than Foxhian, but his long legs and skinny frame proved no match for Xhero’s muscular physique. His fur took on various tones of silver and gray, and his eyes moved to match with an icy blue that complemented the paleness of his pelt. The new arrival regarded the other wolves warily, his gaze flicking ponderously from side to side, as though he was trying to comprehend the hostility in the air.
“Greetings, my fellow Alphas. Foxhian, Reaver, how do you both fare?” the gray wolf questioned in a polite tone, though his eyes betrayed his uneasiness at being there.
“Quite well, actually. The Ruffian Pack has found plenty to eat despite the cold, and our borders are safe,” Alpha Foxhian replied courteously, the friendliness having returned to his voice. “And how is your Wylde Pack, Alpha Reyk?”
“Enough of this!” snapped Alpha Reaver, stamping his paw on the cold stone beneath him. “Where is Alpha Joten and his newfound friend?” The black wolf huffed in frustration, white plumes of breath billowing around his shadowy face.
Alpha Balum Reyk turned pale blue eyes on Xhero, his upper lip twitching. “I wouldn’t know. And I’m not sure I wish to see this new ‘Alpha’; we are all better off as we are, with four rulers in control of their own lands and nothing in-between.” The uncertainty and wariness returned to Reyk’s demeanor, and he glanced furtively around the Clearing.
“Better we face this so-called ‘Alpha’ now. If I see him causing so much as an inkling of trouble, I am going to rip his throat out here and now,” Alpha Reaver growled bluntly, scraping his dull claws against the rocks. Though Reaver was hotheaded and savage, every wolf knew he’d do anything to protect his family and territory.
“Why should we be so worried over this new Alpha? It is merely one wolf, and we are four, including Alpha Joten. What harm could any wolf do to our kingdoms?” Foxhian chimed in, his soft, furry face beaming with confidence. Alpha Reaver swung his head round to turn a furious glare on the Pup King.
“It takes a Pack to make an Alpha, you fool! And if this Alpha wishes for nothing but blood and war, then that is all his Packmates will want, and all we will get is war after war after war!” Xhero snarled, baring his teeth again toward the youngster.
“What a welcoming little party we have here,” growled a deep voice. Reaver lifted his gaze to see a magnificent white beast of a wolf strolling forward with a leisurely gait. Gray moonlight winked in the deep amber depths of its eyes, the rays catching a malicious gleam. Xhero’s hackles rose and a snarl crept up his throat.
“It took you long enough, Joten,” the black wolf snapped, glaring at the white male.

The pale-furred Taluk Joten was massive and muscular, his fur a pristine alabaster and as thick as a bear’s winter pelt. His face was broad and his muzzle was wide, but his most defining aspect was the thick gray scar that crossed over the bridge of his nose and curled down toward his throat. The male was older than the Alphas Foxhian and Reyk, but was of equal age with Reaver. The two were the fiercest rivals of the four Alphas, often clashing violently over their claim of territory. Both were quick to anger, but the white wolf was better at funneling his rage toward the right time and place. He was a deadly opponent in combat, and usually steered his Pack to victory due to his brilliant use of strategy.
Today, however, it was clear that the white wolf had not come to fight over silly matters with Reaver. His face was devoid of emotion and his amber gaze was overshadowed with an unsettling coolness. He promptly ignored Xhero’s comment and merely continued his slow jaunt without a word. He paused once he reached Foxhian’s side and surveyed the Clearing for a brief moment, taking the situation in with a practiced eye.
“You have all come here today to meet the Valley’s newest Alpha. This wolf has come from faraway lands, places where blue-green water stretches all the way to the horizon and where mountain peaks seem to never end. I believe we should meet this leader and see what we can learn,” the white wolf began solemnly, though his voice held an overlying echo of suppressed excitement. Reaver bristled slightly at the tension rising steadily in the air. Something was wrong. 
“Are you mad, Alpha Joten? This wolf will be nothing but trouble for us all!” Balum Reyk spoke up, his tail whistling through the air as he lashed it to and fro. “The four of us guide the Valley just fine. We do not need a fifth Alpha to come parading into our lands and changing the way we have lived for centuries,” the gray-furred male insisted with a decisive huff.
Joten swung his gaze round to the silver wolf, his lips twisting into a sneer. “Are you afraid of this new Alpha, Reyk? Are you so very frightened by the prospect of change?” he questioned innocently, though his tone rang with contempt.
Alpha Reyk growled low in his chest, his eyes glittering with anger. “You know that is not true!”
  “Quit toying with us, Joten! Who is this wolf and when will he arrive? We all have families to tend to in this harsh winter,” Darium broke in impatiently with bared fangs, his nostrils flaring as anger, too, began trickling into his young body.
Reaver remained silent, upholding the white wolf through careful eyes. His powerful muscles were stiff with tension, and all his senses strained to listen to the surrounding woodland. There was a secret in the air, one borne of arrogance, deceit, and evil. There is danger here, but I am not certain as to where it may come from, or what shape it may take. Alpha Xhero released another huge cloud of white from his nose as he waited, swallowing down his impatience for once to allow more thought to the problem at hand.
Alpha Taluk turned an unfriendly eye upon the Pup King, his lips twitching upward slightly. “As if the Ruffians actually deserve the land they possess! Your…family, Little Alpha, will never survive the winter. After all, they have pledged their service and loyalty to a weakling pup such as yourself,” the white wolf jeered, a menacing grin sliding upon his maw.
Foxhian’s ears swung back against his head at Alpha Joten’s cruel jests. His golden eyes shone with fury, and his body quivered with undisguised rage. “The Ruffians are as twice as noble as your Thorne Pack would ever be!” he flashed back. “The age of an Alpha will never change the Ruffian sense of honor and dignity, and we are no strangers to the battlefield. If you need the feel of my teeth to understand that, I will happily oblige.” Alpha Foxhian growled his threat with deadly calm, his reddish fur sinking slowly back against his steady frame as he began to fasten a rein to his anger.
The gray-furred Alpha Reyk turned a low growl on Joten, the thick black fur of his nape rising while Foxhian’s fluffy red withers fell. “There is no reason to mock the honor of the Ruffians. Each of our Packs have strong and loyal wolves, and we Alphas should be the example to them all by treating one another as equals, no matter how we appear…or how many moons we’ve been upon this earth. You mock us all by testing the honor of the Ruffian Pack, and I’ll not tolerate it any further. We must work as one.”
Alpha Darium murmured in agreement, his eyes softening as he listened to the sense of the gray wolf’s words. Reaver maintained his moody silence, his ears twitching as he began to realize he could hear something…Someone’s moving out there, and they’re taking their time. A low snarl tickled the depths of Xhero’s throat once more as he was put on edge. There is something very wrong about this night.

Alpha Joten released a sharp snarl, his lips flying back to reveal his pale pink gums and his flashing white canines. A deadly gleam had entered his flat amber gaze. “That time is well and done, Balum! It is every wolf for himself out there, and there are many things at stake just now. The time of the Alphas are done; instead of us acting as one entity, there will soon only be one entity!” The white wolf gave a wicked, evil grin. “It has been decided that this one will not be any of you, I’m afraid. So your usefulness has, unfortunately, come to an end. My Alphas, please welcome N’Hiri.”
As Taluk spoke, a new wolf strode into the open space--petite and graceful, a living shadow in a shining, flossy black coat. Her eyes blazed a rich jade-green, glowing and alive with light, alert and sharp with intelligence. A literal she-beast the wolf was, large for a female and as dangerous as any male. In those eyes lurked a dark promise, an awful and terrible prophecy unspoken, but still known. The wolf moseyed a little way into Ancients’ Clearing, weighing the scene before her. Reaver had only to meet her malignant gaze to know every single wolf in that clearing was in real peril.
Horror and outrage filled the Ancients’ Clearing, and Reaver suddenly understood what was happening to them. Taluk set us up! This was a trap! “It’s a trap! Run, now!” Xhero exclaimed, calling out to the stunned Alphas Foxhian and Reyk. Foxhian began scrambling away from the pile of snow at the Clearing’s center, his paws sliding and slipping on the icy surface of the black rocks. Reyk whirled and made to flee, but lithe, black shapes poured onto the slick stone around him, engulfing the gray male in gleaming, white teeth, flashing gold eyes, and buffeting furs. The female was there quick as the wind, moving almost too fast to properly follow with the unobservant eye. Before Xhero could comprehend what was taking place in that circle of tooth and claw, N’Hiri had already tumbled Reyk (strong and wise Reyk!) to the hard stone and had his throat between her jaws, her fangs boring down into the tender flesh with powerful thrusts and shakes of her head. The carnage was over as suddenly as it had begun, with Reyk’s neck now a bloodied, mangled mess. The black she-wolf spat out the ruin that was the dead Alpha’s throat and stepped daintily out of the circle of her brothers to calmly observe as they set to work tearing apart the gray-furred male’s limp body.
“No! Balum!” Reaver called, his heart in a conflict of rage and dismay. He could see more black figures from all around the Clearing bounding onto the stones, their chorus of guttural growls and snarls joining into one great cacophony of uproarious noise. Xhero sprang forward, his eyes frantically searching for a way of escape. He spotted the shaggy, russet pelt of Darium Foxhian as he wove around his foes, his lips curled into a snarl and his teeth flashing out to snag a bit of flesh before he whirled about again, dodging opposing fangs. Reaver moved to help, clearing the gray mush at Ancients’ center with a leap and barreling into the chaos of black fur. He snapped at the flank of one harrowing shape then lashed his teeth out at another, blood spraying from a deep bite to the wolf’s cheek as he ripped away again.
Foxhian was still on his paws, dipping and bounding to avoid the various sets of fangs that surrounded him. Through the haze of anger and horror, Reaver felt a vague sense of admiration for the durability and swiftness of the young Alpha. We were all wrong to underestimate him. He toppled over another black-furred figure in his hurry to reach Foxhian’s side, his shadowy pelt masking his identity for the moment; no enemy seemed to have caught on to Xhero’s presence.
Reaver slid in beside Foxhian, snapping and snarling at the circle of teeth and baleful amber eyes. Foxhian, having not recognized Xhero, made to bite him, but Reaver swiftly sidestepped and met the blazing golden gaze of the younger male. Foxhian’s expression cleared as he realized a friend was with him, and not a heartbeat passed before he was turning to assault a black wolf who had strayed too close. His end came quickly, and Foxhian was ready for his next opponent moments later. Reaver swatted aside a brawny black male, sending him tumbling into the companions that crouched behind him.
Alpha Xhero sprang into the frenzy while the enemy wolves lay dazed, circling about in a mad blur of whirling fur to bite, kick, swipe, and slash. “Foxhian, this way!” Reaver howled at the top of his lungs, hoping his voice reached the young russet wolf above the clamor of snarling, grunting, and growling. He flicked his eyes around, searching for the red-furred male, and felt a wave of relief upon seeing him shoving his way through the battered black wolves.

Xhero whipped around and continued on through the enemy pack, swatting one after the other out of his way. He swiftly dispatched one and sent its limp, heavy body sailing into a bunched group of ragged males with a stiff swing of his head. Once cleared of the violent, pressing cluster, Alpha Reaver pounded across Ancients’ Clearing, stretching his limbs in long strides to carry him into the surrounding blackness of the woods. He glanced back to see Foxhian hard on his paws, his breath puffing about his face and his ruffled russet pelt buffeting in the icy wind.
A horde of black wolves harried after him, their golden eyes wild with bloodlust. “Keep moving!” he shouted back at Foxhian, urging him to run faster, faster, faster.
A white blur slammed into Reaver’s right flank, sending him sprawling across the slick black rocks and driving the breath from his lungs. Reaver lay still on the hard stones for a moment, wheezing, but he hastily found his paws, searching with glaring orange eyes for the one had knocked him off balance. His gaze found the heavy, white pelt of Alpha Joten lunging for Foxhian, who stood, paralyzed, not far from Reaver. Xhero leaped forward with a snarl, his body bowling into Joten’s side. The white Alpha tumbled to the ground, his body connecting to the smooth stones with an audible crash.
“Why have you done this, Joten? Have you no honor, sending vicious rogues and a she-devil to do your dirty work? This is a fight for mongrels and fleabags, but we are wolves! I’ve never had the displeasure of meeting a wolf so hungry for power such as you,” Reaver snarled after him, his body trembling with undisguised, perhaps even uncontrollable, anger. Of all the years of battle and war that had sprouted amongst the four Alphas--be it over simple territory skirmishes or honor or pride--Xhero had never experienced this sort of treachery before. He had always trusted that the other Alphas would continue to follow the code of the Wolf, to fight every war with dignity and courage, to protect the weak, to live in an endless cycle of peace and strife forevermore. Now, all such beliefs came crashing down, crumbling the world and the sense within it until everything seemed vast and cold and unfamiliar, hostile.
And it all brewed from within…The thought echoed seemingly forever in Reaver’s mind as he stood, poised, before Alpha Joten. From within. Joten rolled swiftly back to his paws and boldly met the fiery glower of Alpha Reaver’s orange gaze. 
“The code of the Wolf, the code of the Alphas, all of it means nothing! For years, we have subjected ourselves to mindless codes and creeds. I shall not be bound by such any longer. To obtain what I what, I will do whatever it takes. And it is about time you realized that,” Taluk Joten spat, his breath heaving from his mouth in buffeting, ghostly streams of cold.
“You would turn your back on everything that we have been taught? All of the codes and creeds you speak of have taught us how to rule our Packs with wisdom and peace, taught us how to have the sense to understand right and wrong. You have cursed the sacred honor of the Packs and Alphas, and may the Spirits of the Wolf judge you justly.” Reaver glanced at Foxhian, who seemed to have recovered his senses and was looking on stiffly. His eyes flashed with knowing as he met the strange orange blaze of the black wolf’s gaze. A deep sadness glimmered in the depths of the russet male’s eyes, but there was also a grim flicker of hope. That hope could only stay alive should Reaver carry out his next course of action, and carry it out now! Suddenly, Xhero Reaver lunged, barreling into Alpha Joten’s chest. The white wolf had risen to meet him in the air, rearing on his powerful hind legs, but all of Reaver’s muscular bulk had flown into his fluffy white chest, and knocked the breath clean from his lungs.
As Alpha Joten tumbled onto his back, Reaver planted his massive paws upon the white wolf’s breast, glaring down at him with malignant orange eyes. A fierce, stubborn gaze shone back defiantly, and Joten’s lips curled to unsheathe glinting white fangs. Reaver dared a quick glance around, praying with every fiber in his being that Foxhian had gotten away safely. Thankfully, the red-furred Alpha was gone. The harsh din of snarling and growling rose up again among the black wolves as they situated themselves into circular formation once more around the two battling Alphas.
Xhero Reaver loomed over his enemy, his mind, body, and soul cold and emotionless. “Is this what you wanted?” the charcoal-pelted male snapped, clacking his teeth together. Joten managed a small, tight grin.
“What? Do you mean chaos and anarchy within the Order of the Wolf and Alphas?” the white wolf asked innocently, though his eyes gleamed with animosity. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted!” He lunged forward, teeth bared, jaws agape to close around Reaver’s throat. Xhero swerved around the set of fangs and plunged his own deep into Taluk’s thick, furry neck.

Soon, the salty tang of blood was pulsing profusely, dark and hot, into Xhero’s mouth, spattering like a red rain onto his fur. Joten writhed and wriggled in the black wolf’s strong jaws, but it was to no avail. Reaver held firm until the white Alpha’s determined attempts at escape faded to feeble pummels. Abruptly, the struggling Joten fell ominously still. Xhero was vaguely aware of the black wolves closing their ranks around him, hatred burning in the depths of their golden gazes.
“Oh, what a shame. Who shall care for the Valley now?” a feminine voice, vibrant and eerily soothing, called through the clangor of her snarling brethren. Xhero released his hold on the fallen white Alpha’s jugular, his head swinging around to see N’Hiri watching him from afar, within the black wolves’ circle. She scrutinized him with those luminous emerald eyes, stripping his soul naked seemingly for all to uphold and judge with only a mocking gaze. A quirky sideways grin lifted the right of her muzzle, casual and controlled. Breathtakingly beautiful, and incredibly dangerous.
As Xhero looked upon her, he could recall witnessing this raven-colored female ripping the very life from Reyk and then leaving his remains to her black-furred companions. With a strong, stifled urge to guffaw derisively, Reaver wondered whether he’d be devoured by his own kind as well once he was more or less beheaded. Following the moment in which he had nearly lost his wits, the steadfast Alpha could feel a stony determination rising cold and hard in his chest. An inkling of his former self, a wolf forever bound to his morals and principles, and stubborn as a rock, trickled back into him, a warm sliver of bravery, hope, and honor. “Foxhian will care for the Vale and its Packs. You’d best steer clear, lest you desire the wrath of all four wolf clans upon you,” Reaver retorted, training his flaming red gaze on the jubilant green of the she-beast’s eyes.
“I shan’t be steering clear of anyone, I’m afraid,” she murmured to Xhero, her wicked voice feigning genuine remorse. “These Shadow Brothers of mine are only a mere few of the Black Hunters. Many and more await my command to savage these lands, a Tribe and Pack your precious cubs of the Vale have never seen,” N’Hiri hissed, her smile fading and her glittering eyes darkening abysmally. She stalked closer to Reaver, her lips peeling away to display fangs of flint. Each step was slow and measured, boasting an air of confidence and malice.
“No!” Alpha Xhero Reaver of the Drakanian Pack roared, gnashing his teeth together as he insisted the power of his own mighty gaze upon the approaching she-wolf. The strength of Alpha blood coursed through his veins with every solid thump of his heart. Xhero’s ruff sprang up along his massive shoulders, and his head rose so that he towered above N’Hiri, glaring orange eyes steadily meeting the black-furred female’s amused green ones. “You and your gang of rogues are proclaimed shadows, but where there is darkness, no matter how far it reaches or how large it grows, there is also light. The Black Hunters may have the night, but dawn shall always come. So, N’Hiri of the Shadow Brothers and Black Hunters, you may have your night, but go knowing your defeat is as imminent as the sunrise!”
N’Hiri’s look of steel never wavered, but her ears gave the faintest twitch. The Clearing grew deathly silent and still, as though the cold of night was holding its breath. “Touching,” the she-wolf mused, sweeping her tail across the surface of sharp, icy rock. Reaver had hardly batted an eye before N’Hiri was moving, her speed rendering her to only a flurry and flash of black as she dove forward. Xhero made to leap away, but as he thought of the action, he found himself already sprawled along the hard stones, his chest heaving from the impact of sturdy shoulders. He glanced up, glimpsed triumphant green eyes, and watched rather ponderously as a tide of flashing fangs, malignant faces, and buffeting shadows fell with a crash upon him.