And in the cold and still night, 'Wulf' turned his clear eyes to the stars and howled long and wolflike to his forefathers. And from somewhere the echos of their howling came down through time and through him.

But he is not always alone, and in the long winter nights to come, when men and wolves will follow their meat into the lower valleys, he may be seen running at the head of the pack of two through the pale moonlight and glimmering starlight, leaping tall and strong above his mate, singing the songs of his land, the songs of their pack. 

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