A/N: This is my second fanfiction :) I hope to continue it for five or so chapters, maybe more
Rated for some violence

Diclaimer: I don't own Wolfquest, but I do own these characters

Scattered memories.

That's all I have left of my family, of being in a pack. The type of memories that you begin to question if they actually existed, or if your mind just created them out of longing.

Do I really remember the warmth of my mother's fur?

I think I remember the riverside den among the pile of boulders. I remember scuffling around with my one brother and three sisters. I remember waiting eagerly for my father to come home, watching in awe as he dragged behind him the remains of an elk. I remember my mother whispering the tales of great wolves at night, of mighty warriors who took down a bull elk or grizzly all by themselves.

…Or do I?

One memory does stand out among all others; one that I am almost sure is true. Painted sharp and clear in my mind, it is one I will remember forever.

It was a late autumn evening. The sun was just setting, its rays leaving a scarlet streak across the clouds. The sky seemed to be filled with blood; looking back, I thought that this may have been an omen of what was to come. At the time, however, I just thought it was beautiful.

My parents were rounding up my siblings, ushering them back into the den, when I first caught the strange scent. I knew at once that my mother and father had detected it as well. Their fur started to bristle, and low growls issued from their throats. All of us pups were frightened. Quickly, now, we ran into the den.

But I was curious as well. I poked my head out, watching. The second sign of danger came when lean shadows could be seen, darting towards our home. There were many, at least fifteen. They spread out in a circle around the den, their eyes glinting strangely in the darkness.

Finally, one stepped forward into a circle of moonlight. It was a wolf, I realized. Naively, I automatically relaxed. These were of my own kind. Yet an urgent message still pricked at the back of my brain.

The wolf padded closer to my parents. Suddenly I noticed how large he was, and that his fangs were bared. My father stepped forward to confront him, tail held in a warning positioning. "What do you want, Matwau?" he growled.

The large wolf chuckled, but his eyes were hard. "Not very welcoming, are you?" his voice sounded like a snarl. "But I want what any alpha wants for his pack – more territory."

"Our answer remains the same." My father growled firmly. "Very well." Matwau shifted slightly. "Then we have no choice." His tone turned ugly. "Attack!"

In a matter of seconds, wolf after wolf flooded the peaceful little hollow. I lost sight of my parents through the mass of bodies, but I heard yelps. Terrified, I turned tail and rammed into a tiny hole within the den. Too panicked to care about injuring myself, I squeezed into the too-small space and wiggled forward until I was barely able to breathe, but out of sight. And that meant I was safe.

My littermates, bewildered and left out in the open space of the den, suddenly cowered as two burly wolves forced themselves in and grabbed them by their scruffs. They were all dragged out – except for me.

I waited, heart pounding in the sudden hush. Then, two words cracked out among the dead air. "Kill them."

I shut my eyes tight, flattening my ears to my skull. But I could still hear the agonizing squeals of my siblings. Then, again, silence.

This silence stretched on for a long time. I remained, cramped and shocked, in my hiding spot as the moon rose to its peak. Finally, I slowly maneuvered my way out. Stepping lightly, I slipped out of the den and hurried away.

I was lucky, I suppose, for the cover of darkness. My jet-black fur blended in and kept my hidden from any stragglers from Matwau's pack…and in the night, I was unable to see the limp bodies of my family.

And so I became an orphan. I was extremely lucky to survive on my own so young. I got by – but just barely. Forced to learn everything myself, I grew to be surly and aggressive. There was only one thing that I was completely fearful of, and that was wolves. But I didn't admit it, even to myself.

I guess you could call me a dispersal wolf – one who has left their pack to find a mate. But the term only loosely referred to me. I had not left my pack by choice, nor did I have any impulse to find a mate.

I preferred a different term. And so I, Jaeger, came to call myself the lone wolf.

The name Matwau means "enemy" in Native American. I also found that the name Jaeger means "hunter", but I didn't pick it for the meaning; I just liked the name ;)
Oh, and the story does become brighter in a couple chapters