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They are nameless at first. The mountains are treacherous, and young pups die too soon. To avoid the heartache, they are known as nothing but potential prey for eagles and cougars.
Mother's nest is warm, soft. But as the days went by, it also proved to be smothering. A few tail lengths ahead was the cave's entrance. Fresh air came through it, blowing the wolves’ fur as they dreamed of what lay ahead.
When the clouds turned gray, thunder beckoned them to follow. When the sun set, the stars spoke to the young pups in comforting whispers.
“What's outside?” A black pup squeaked, his muzzle sitting atop his mother's tail.
“I don't know.” Said the other, her fur brown like the dirt below them. “But it must be big.”
“How big?”
“Bigger than mother!”
The black pup stood up, holding his tail high. “No way! That's impossible!”
“But it is!” Excitement flooded the pup as her tail started wagging. “It is so big, but so big, that the sky swallows it every night!”
“But how do we come out?”
“Um…” The pup stopped to think. “I don't know…”
Not having an answer to her brother's questions was more upsetting than not going outside at all. That didn't seem to hinder his excitement, though.
“We have to find out!”
“We do!”
Before they could do anything, however, the world around them shifted, and they were swallowed by a familiar pelt.
A low growl echoed through the cave, and the pups promptly shut their mouths. They didn't want to anger mother.