Disclaimer: I own none of the characters within.

Author's Notes: Responding to some of my reviewers:

Amarth – I specified this in the first chapter, but I'll clarify. I've changed some of the ages of the characters around a little. Merry and Sam are young adults, and Pippin and Frodo are the pups. I wanted Merry to be in charge, but wolf law dictates that the older Frodo would have been the first in line. So I altered that a bit, and played off Frodo's innocence to bring him to the puppy level. :D

Cudae – Thanks a million for the raving and praising reviews! Woo!

TK – I'm sorry, Frodo is not available for adoption until the end of the story. :P

Enough babbling! On to the next chapter!

Chapter Four

~

            In Mirkwood territory, the wind sighed.

            Legolas awoke in the middle of the night with a yelp, gazing around in a nameless fear he did not understand. Confused and disoriented, he felt a call deep within summoning him to the South.

            Trotting over to his father, he nudged the old wolf once.

            Cold.

            Thranduil, weakened by starvation, had succumbed to death's welcome peace.

            The agonized howls of the young wolf echoed in the air, though no one was near enough to hear his grief.

            After a while, he realized what he must do. No ties now held him to this land. A shadow grew in the East. And the call was growing stronger.

            Licking his father on the ear one last time, Legolas set off at an easy run for the South.

            ~

            In the Southeast, sorrow reigned.

            Faramir was listless, lying about uselessly and staring at the sky, occasionally lifting his voice in the call for Beregond. But the beta did not answer; his spirit had already flown out onto the tundra to dwell all around them, and could not hear the young wolf's song.

            The alpha Denethor also mourned, but for different reasons. Beregond had been a strong beta, very useful and smart. With his passing he left a gaping hole in the pack's structure… and that was where the trouble began.

            Boromir and Aragorn circled each other, hackles raised to appear twice as large and teeth bared. The fight for beta position had begun, Denethor could only hope it ended without too much bloodshed.

            Darting in, Aragorn tried to get his paw up on the other wolf's back, forcing him to the ground and the 'surrender' position. But with a twist, Boromir shook him off and grabbed that paw in his teeth, yanking Aragorn forwards but not off his balance.

            The two resumed circling, each trying to keep his head higher than the other. Body stance is very important for an alpha; the wolf with his head the highest is always in charge and always wins.

            They were both startled from the fight by a lone call.

            It was a voice the Gondor pack had never heard before. Youthful and strong, a male was calling for others to join his new pack.

            A new pack had not been formed in Arda for a long time. The old territories and bloodlines ran deep, for many years. But generations ago, such a thing had happened when a small group of adolescents broke off from the Gondor pack and formed the pack of Rohan.

            It was an opportunity.

            Seeing no future for himself here, Aragorn shrugged his massive shoulders and loped off in the direction of the voice, calling back that he was on his way. But seeing a chance to try and bring the adolescent into his own pack, Boromir followed.

            ~

            The song led them to Imladris territory, and they stopped. Surely, the voice calling them could not be Elven? A joke of Haldir's, perhaps? But no, they knew his voice countless times over.

            Trotting towards them in the no-wolf zone was a young male wolf who was incredibly small. He had the proportions and physical characteristics of a young adult, but was about the size of a pup.

            The little wolf barked again, inviting them into the no-wolf space. With an invitation, they were allowed in and entered.

            Suddenly, rising up on a hill nearby was a huge black wolf and three other little wolves. After a moment, the two recognized the larger wolf as Elrond.

            Elrond the Loner was starting his own pack?

            The very notion was absurd, for who would take him in? And yet surely these smaller wolves were from a pack that none had seen before.

            Elrond advanced towards the two Gondorian wolves and looked into their eyes, telling them exactly what would be expected of them and where they would go.

            Memories of Beregond's body bleeding into the earth sprang to their minds, and without any second thoughts or doubts the two males joined the pack.

            And suddenly a second full-sized wolf came trotting over the hill, her raven fur shining in the sun like a star escaped from the night sky. Instantly, Aragorn was captivated by her, and moved towards the female with his ears lowered and his tail relaxed in the gesture of friendship.

            Arwen herself had been staring at the large grey male as he conversed with Elrond, noting his powerful frame and rippling muscles. He would make a good mate, liable to produce many strong and healthy pups.

            They met, their noses rubbing together gently, and both were struck with a sensation that they had not known in their own packs: love.

            Elrond was about to interrupt when something quite unexpected happened. A new voice, one he had not planned on, sounded from the North.

            And suddenly the lean and fair Legolas of the Mirkwood pack came racing towards them from over the crest of a hill, his pace sure and steady and his intents clear: Joining this pack. His scent flag told them that the alpha Thranduil had passed, and he was the sole surviving member of his pack.

            Curious as to how Legolas could have possibly known of this Quest, he received his answer quickly. Gandalf sat on his back, shielding a smirk with his wing. He had called the young warrior, and of course whatever the eagle did was obviously right, as Elrond had long ago learned.

            Legolas also was welcomed into the pack.

            And then Elrond stood back, admiring the fine group he had gathered. They looked into his eyes and he spoke to them.

            -I regret that I must leave you now; there is other work that must be done which Arwen and myself shall attend to as you journey on together. Gandalf shall lead you on your way, and he is both wise and powerful. Heed him well. I declare you now the newly founded Pack of the Quest. May all the powers of Eru and Elbereth watch over you.-  

            And spinning in the air, he sped off to the West with Arwen right behind him. Aragorn sang a wavering love note after her, and then all was silent.

            Merry moved forward and rubbed Legolas with his scent, and it began. The new pack mingled together and created their own unique banner, one that any pack would recognize as a force to be reckoned with, for scents carry more than just a distinct aroma; they carry messages about the wolf himself.

            Aragorn, Boromir, Merry, and Legolas gave the banner a strong scent of strength. Pippin, Frodo and Sam contributed youth and stamina. Legolas also promised speed, while Merry also had a strong scent of cleverness. The two Numenor lastly added battle experience.

            The banner itself strengthened the pack and cemented them together.

            With a great cry, Gandalf soared into the air and flew towards the East. Tossing their heads and rearing mightily, the Pack of the Quest followed him towards Mordor.

            ~

            In two weeks of traveling, a hierarchy formed. Although Gandalf led them, Aragorn was establishing himself as the actual wolf alpha, with Legolas as his capable beta. The strict lines between Numenor and Elven had dissolved in this pack, making all equal and crushing their last misgivings about each other.

            Boromir, Merry, and Sam were powerful contributors as well, giving a good deal when the pack felled a caribou and feasted. However, Pippin and Frodo had yet to prove themselves any more than tagalongs.

            ~

            Late at night, the pack rested.

            Aragorn sat on the top of a low hill, surveying his pack. The full moon shone behind him, shining through his ruff and giving his silhouette an eerie glow. Gliding up the hill next to him came Legolas, who nuzzled him respectfully under the chin to say 'You are the alpha' before sitting down next to him in the quiet.

            Whimpering in his sleep, Frodo kicked his little paws uselessly. He sensed danger; it rolled towards him in waves from the East, and he disliked walking right into it. Seeing the pup in the grip of a nightmare, Sam settled his stocky body down next to him and nuzzled his curly head.

            The brilliant blue eyes snapped open, staring about in the dark for a moment before finally resting on Sam. And in that moment, the young male realized that Frodo held something special, something vitally important that no one else had yet seen. This pup held the key to the Quest.

            Bowing his large head, Sam brought his muzzle up reverently and licked Frodo's chin.

            'I will follow you.'

            And Frodo nodded with wisdom beyond his puppy years.

            Nearby, Boromir's large body was curled carefully around little Pippin, who snuggled into his dense brown fur. As technically useless as the pup was, Boromir had gotten dearly attached to him and refused to acknowledge his lack of contribution. Merry rested his sleeping head on the large wolf's back. The three had formed a close bond, becoming almost their own little clique.

            A rustle overhead caused all the wolves to lift their gaze. Gandalf's mighty silhouette passed over them, wings stretching almost unnaturally across the starlit sky. Filled with joy and strength at the sight of their beloved leader, the wolves sang.

            Aragorn threw back his head and sang a clear middle note. Merry and Sam took notes just a little higher, while Boromir rumbled a deep bass note that would have shaken a mountain. Legolas crooned a note that was a notch below Aragorn's, and Frodo sang a silver note at the top. Last of all, Pippin soared to a note above everyone's.

            The pack harmonized, their voices sliding up and down the musical scale in what could only be called a symphony. And high above, an eagle called. Gandalf had made his contribution to the song.

~ To Be Continued