Chapter Text
"-then we'll lose claim on the East. It would be better to focus our efforts to the South."
"That would be a blood bath! And we don't know anything about the territory. All of our scouts-"
"If we push west, then we'll stretch ourselves too far."
"And if we push South, we risk losing too many. The occupants of that forest won't give up without a fight."
"Foxes be damned. We'll tear them apart like we always do."
"It's not worth the bloodshed. And they've held that forest for centuries. It's not right to take it from them."
"Who the hell cares about what's right? You think it's right when they snatch our pups from their beds?"
San rubbed his temples as he listened to his council bicker amongst themselves. His second in command and his advisor had been at it for nearly ten minutes now, not that it was unusual. The two males rarely saw eye to eye, especially when it came to acceptable casualties.
"Seonghwa's right," he sighed, finally cutting them off when he was certain the argument wasn't leading anywhere productive. "We barely know anything about those woods, and the foxes are too cunning to meet on their own territory. They would break apart our forces with traps and tricks before we even had a chance to fight."
"Sir," Byungjoon argued, clearly trying to remain respectful despite his obvious outrage, "we are stronger than they are, and half of them are little more than mindless savages. If we could scout the territory better-"
"I am not risking any more of the pack," San said firmly, his eyes and posture cutting a clear sign that the matter was not up for debate. "We have already lost too many."
Byungjoon looked like he wanted nothing more than to argue.
"However," San sighed, sitting forward in his chair again to stare down at the map across the war table, frowning at their lack of options, "you're right about stretching our forces too far. If we pull away from the East, the Bang clan will likely take advantage of it before we can stake a claim on the West. We'd risk exposing the entire pack."
He took a heavy breath, shutting his eyes for a moment like it would help him see a safe option amongst their current lack of one.
"If I had known Jaeyun's pack was going to fall like that," he shook his head, berating himself for not seeing the signs sooner, before looking to his second. "How long do you think we have before another pack makes a claim?"
"A month at best," Seonghwa said grimly. "Your brother's pack is already stretched too thin to try, but the other bordering clan won't take long. We have had several reports of their growing numbers. Honestly, even if Jaeyun's pack had not fallen to mutiny, I'm sure it was only a matter of time before they overwhelmed them to expand. If we're going to make a claim, we would have to do it soon."
"And face their forces in a month when they try to take it from us," San shook his head, shutting his eyes again.
"Possibly," Seonghwa agreed. "But if we could claim it and shift the pack before then, we would have an easier time holding lines on two fronts. Chan will not attack if we can keep our patrols up at the border. We would just have to make sure he doesn’t catch wind of our forces shifting attention long enough to stake our claim."
It was too risky. There were too many chances for something to go wrong, too many obstacles and precarious conditions. But if they didn't expand...
"Start scouting patrols in the west," he finally decided with a grim look over his waiting council of five before resting on his scout commander. "Only a few at a time, and make sure they look like hunting parties. We cannot risk word getting out that we're considering claiming it. Send your stealthiest ones, and if they run into the bordering clan, ensure they remain diplomatic."
Hongjoong nodded at the order. "Yes, sir."
"We will learn the land for now," he continued, looking down at the map again, at the meager options for territory. "There is no point in starting a claim if it cannot support us. In a week, we should have enough information to determine if the risk is worth it, then we will move. In the meantime," he shifted his attention to his battle trainer, "make sure the newer recruits are ready. And start training the younger alphas and betas too. Anyone older than twelve winters. We'll need them to help protect the pack if our forces are deployed. I will make the announcement in the morning."
"Yes, sir," Mingi nodded, though San could see the flicker of sadness in his eyes at the thought of such young wolves seeing battle.
And he felt it too, the despair to come. It was inevitable, and they had all lived it before. But it didn't make it any easier. It didn't make him feel any less guilty imagining his pack in danger because of his decisions.
He dismissed his council shortly after, but Byungjoon remained behind.
"Speak," San said shortly when he lingered in silence.
"Sir," he began carefully, "I do not wish to question your decisions, but I would simply like to ask that you do not rule out our options in the south. The foxes have taken too much from us, and there is plenty of land below them that they could move into. If we could just force them down-"
"I understand your hatred for their breed, Byungjoon," San shook his head. "The loss of pups is devastating for us all. But I will not force families from their homes, fox or not. And I will not risk the lives of my pack to slaughter. We'd be forcing territory, and you know as well as I do how much more bloodshed that would be compared to claiming open territory."
"You won't even consider it?"
"I didn't say that."
"Then...you're not ruling it out?"
"I'm not ruling out any option yet," San agreed. "Not until we know how many we have. We'll focus our scouts in the West for now, and pray to Nature that the land is fruitful. But if it is not...only when I know we have no other choice will I make that decision."
Byungjoon shifted his jaw, as if contemplating if that satisfied him enough, before finally nodding. "Yes, sir."
And with a final bow, he left the hut.
San stared down at the map for several long minutes after, running over their options and every possibility for downfall or potential risk until his head pounded. He was exhausted, mentally and emotionally drained, but he couldn't afford to rest now. His pack was growing bigger by the day, and autumn was around the corner. Come winter, they would find themselves without enough land to feed them.
He had to provide for them. He had to solve this before then. He couldn't fail them.
Finally, when the moon was at its peak in the sky and the village had grown silent, San stood from the table, stretching his limbs with a heavy breath, and walked out of the hut.
He nodded to the guards on post as he passed, strolling casually into the woods. He let his feet carry him for several paces, until he was certain he was far enough, then he shifted, barely waiting for his bones to crack into place and fur to cover his skin before taking off in a sprint.
San's wolf was beautiful—larger than most, lithe but powerful, a pattern of white and black and grey between, with eyes so icy blue that they were almost white as they glowed in the night. It was a form he so rarely took anymore, only shifting for battle or when the desire to run overwhelmed him, or, like now, when it suited his needs.
It was only minutes before he reached the marker lines that signaled the border of their territory. He breathed them in deeply, looking back once more toward his home, his pack, before crossing that line and creeping through the wood in a stealthy assent.
He lost track of time as he worked his way deeper, noting every tree, every bush, every possible resource along the way. He crossed several streams, deep and running strong as he leapt over them. Every so often, he caught a scent on the gentle breeze, and cut wide or backtracked to avoid it, but the forest this near the border was mostly empty aside from nocturnal prey scuttling about.
When he finally came to a stop beside a wide river, he was panting lightly. It must have been well over an hour since he passed their border line, the light of the moon filtering through the heavy trees above showing it's slow descent. He had cut a winding path, trying to gauge as much of the land as possible, so he estimated that he was about twenty minutes or less from his territory if he walked a straight path back. He'd need to turn back soon to avoid arriving after the morning patrol set out.
He lapped at the cool water of the river, relishing the way it soothed his throat, before sitting back on his haunches to examine his surroundings.
The woods were dark, but his vision was fine enough. He could see the forest growing thicker across the river, underbrush heavy and twitching with tiny creatures scurrying about. It was another sign of its bounty, something that set his skin itching.
It would have been easier if the forest was nearly bare, if life was scarce, if so many plants holding fruit and berries didn't cross his path here. But as it was, he couldn't deny its mass of resource.
He shut his eyes for a moment, craning his head to the sky to breath in the warm air around him. This was the life he had chosen, the life he had fought tooth and claw for. He could still recall so easily those dark years, the years he had longed for a pack filled with the joy and love and bonds that his now held, the years he struggled for it, fearing it would never come to pass.
And now, it was at risk again, because he couldn't find an answer to keep them wholly safe. He was failing them. Maybe, if he had been able to keep more of their territory in the East, their problems would have held off for a few more years. Maybe then, their pack could have grown large enough to fight on two fronts. As it was, they were now both too small and too large at once. Their land could not support them with so many mouths to feed, but they may not have the numbers and strength to claim more.
And he knew. He knew that if he were to follow the advice of his eldest council, that they could seize this land with less risk. They would lose many lives, but the pack wouldn't be stretched so wide. It would be stealthier, and by the time their enemies to the East found out, they would have already staked their claim and been done with it.
But he couldn't. He couldn't bring himself to make the order, not when other options remained. He knew too well what it was to be driven from his home. He couldn't do that to countless families, fox or not. Not unless he had no other choice.
He shook his heavy head, lowering it again as he blinked open his eyes. And froze immediately.
For across the river, deep in the underbrush and downwind of him, a pair of glowing green eyes stared back.
He shifted his weight on his paws slowly, trying to remain unthreatening, but positioning for rapid movement that may become necessary. He didn't blink, didn't dare look away from that pair of eyes until he knew it was the only one.
And as the breeze shifted, he smelled it for the first time.
Fox.