Lizard's Leap: Chapter Twenty: Mother business

When they leaped into the picture, the clearing was still and subdued. The only sounds were those of the birds and the wind whispering through the trees. Lupus was excited and strained at the lead to run to his pack. He’d already scented them.

Sylvia couldn’t just let him go without knowing if he would be accepted back into the fold and it took all of her strength to hold onto him.

She had filled an enormous cooking pot from the Hall’s kitchen with massive quantities of beef stew. Vicki and Mark set the pot down and removed the lid, releasing the smell of the rich gravy so that it wisped through the forest.

After thirty seconds Mark decided that they’d waited long enough. ‘Oh well, it’s perfickly obvious that they aren’t coming. They’ve probably run south for the winter or somefink. There’s nothing’ else for it but to take him back home with us. Let’s go.’

‘Steady lad, they’ll come,’ said Sylvia with the authority of one who knows.

Sure enough the first crack of a breaking twig snapped downwind of them.

‘They’re here,’ Mark said sadly.

‘Aye, lad, be happy for Lupus. He needs his family more than he needs us,’

Big Grey thrust his way through the tall grasses and stood resplendent in the clearing. This time he was bolder. He’d won the battle for the food last time. These humans would surely think twice about challenging him again. He raised his head and gave a half-hearted rumble, warning them that there could be trouble if they wanted it.

Then he sniffed the air and a rope of saliva fell from his mouth to the grass at his feet. Emboldened by the smell of the bait, the other wolves came into the open. Big Grey moved to the pot and plunged his head into the depths of the beef stew. This was a sign for the rest of the pack to wade in and get what they could, while they could. Not one of them gave a second glance to Lupus.

Sylvia released the collar and without a backward glance he ran and stuck his head in the big cooking pot with his family. They ate all the stew and licked the pot clean. The wolves circled the clearing, looking for more food. When they’d made sure that lunchtime was over, they turned to Lupus and his strange new smell.

His mother came slowly towards him. Her boy was back, and yet, she sensed that he was returned to her a different beast than the one that left. She circled him once, sniffing the air around him. Lupus fell to the floor and offered his belly in a sign of submission. Mamma sniffed him all over, nudging him with her snout when she found a particularly strange aroma. The other wolves stayed back, this was mother business.

Mamma nipped Lupus on the hind leg as if to say, ‘I’ll deal with cleaning you up later, you messy cub, but for now get up out of the mud and stop grovelling. It’s unbecoming of a wolf of your stature and breeding.’

The first and greatest test had passed. Sylvia clutched Vicki’s arm nervously as Big Grey moved forward. He sniffed the young wolf much the same as Mamma had done, though not as thoroughly. Again, Lupus dropped in submission and meek surrender, his tail quivering.

The old wolf flung back his head and howled. Then Lupus was tumbling with his brothers and sisters, they’d been given the all-clear to approach him.

The four adult wolves of the pack watched the adolescents playing for a few minutes and then Big Grey looked up at the sky. He found the Sun’s position and sniffed the air. It was almost nightfall and time to move on. Letting out a small, authoritative bark he brought the wolves into line; they stopped their game and came to obedient attention.

Lupus looked at his father and then flew back towards Sylvia and the children. He pranced and licked them all over and then he was gone, tearing through the trees in pursuit of his brother, whose legs were faster than his.

Mamma stood five feet from the humans. She locked eyes with Sylvia—piercing, unnatural green eyes and clear, wild, amber ones. Two females locked in understanding. Mamma lowered her head and gave a small whimper that ended with her licking her chops. She swished her tail and reeled round following the rest of the pack.

‘That was a Lassie moment and a half,’ said Emma to Vicki and Mark, who were both sobbing.

‘You know, kids,’ Sylvia said. ‘I don’t think our Lupus will ever forget us, especially if we bring the odd pan of stew for them.’ They all laughed, even Mark, who made a snotty mess laughing and crying at the same time.