Chapter 3

Kadesh stood before Father and Mother, trying to hide her sadness, "Is we know Lockjaw, my mate and the great leader of this pack was killed yesterday. Thunder Pack has mourned his death but now we must move on to the new leader. I have decided to back down. Without a mate to help me, I cannot rule this pack. I must give the leadership to my son and his mate. I hope Greatwings looks down at us and says that these two are the right to rule. These planes have served the pack well as alphas and their time has come to move up." Kadesh motioned for Father to move up, "Covan, I know you have fought and hunted well for this pack. You have been Lockjaw and mine's faithful alphas. Will you, with all your strength and mind, govern this pack knowing you are trying to do the best you can for it and all its members even in the darkest of days?"

"I will," he said. He stood tall even though tears were still in his eyes for his father.

"And will you, Keeleth, help your mate govern the pack with all your strength?"

"I will."

Kadesh nodded, "Then I give you the title of super-alpha of this pack." She slipped the leader's necklaces over their noses and onto their necks. "These are nothing more than a symbol but still a tradition. They've been passed down from the first planes to make their territory here. Our pack may be the oldest in the forest but never shall you think that this pack has more right to be here than any other. Wear these, not with power, but pride in your pack, knowing you are the leader and every Thunder Pack member is resting his life on your wings. Do not be afraid, every leader makes mistakes; just know that Greatwings is in charge no matter what." Kadesh smiled, trying to hide her emotions, "I hereby declare you the super-alphas of Thunder Pack.

The pack erupted in cheers, calling Mother and Father's names. Blitz shouted over the crowd, celebrating the new leader's reign. I joined in happily. Father raised his nose and silence fell over us, "I hope that Lockjaw is proud of me. I promise to lead the pack through whatever comes, good or bad, with the best of my ability. Although I will not long be remembered, I hope that for the time I am I'll be remembered as a good leader." He let the pack cheer for a bit longer before releasing them from the meeting. He came up to Regan and me, "I know you might not like it, but I have a job for you." He pressed his nose to Regan's then to mine, "Your mother needs some help in the nursery. Can you do that?" He looked up at Blitz who nodded.

"Sure, Father," I said, "Why does Mother need help?"

"Mother is due to lay eggs soon and she needs to rest. You can help her watch the other she-planes' hatchlings while they hunt. Your hunt brought back quite a pile but not enough to feed a growing pack and hatchlings."

"Yes, father," Regan answered. We made our way through the tunnels into the nursery. Regan looked at the hatchlings with contempt in his eyes, "Do we really have to be doing this?" I rolled my eyes; the hatchlings were cute and fun to watch. Mother lay down heavily with wings folded and sleep in her eyes, "Thank you for coming. It's a big help to me when the other mothers are hunting."

"So," I started, "We're going to have brothers and sisters?" I saw Regan snort with disapproval.

Mother beamed with excitement. "Yes," then her eyes grew dark and clouded as if she were staring into a different world, "If they make it." I shivered. I'd heard about how lucky we were to have survived. We were part of mother's second clutch, a clutch of six. Her first clutch was of eight. Only four lived to hatching. Those hatchlings died within their first winter when food was scarcer than it had been ever before. We were the only ones that had survived. The rest of our clutch drowned in a summer storm because they were lower in the nest. We would have drowned in our eggs too if it hadn't been for Father rescuing us in time. An egg didn't have much chance of survival if anything unfortunate happened.

I turned my attention to a small green and white marked hatchling. Her brown eyes looked at me curiously as if to say, "Who are you?" I gently ran my tongue over her and she squeaked happily but she seemed weak and feeble to me, even for a hatchling. "That's Whitefern," Mother explained. "Chances are she isn't going to make it. She was the smallest egg in her clutch and… most of her siblings have died inexplicably. She's holding on but growing weaker each day." I wanted to believe that she would live but looking at her made me see. She was weak and didn't look right as if something internally was wrong with her.

"Could she be an unfortunate?" I asked. An unfortunate was a plane with a defect since hatching. It could be anything from a twisted wingtip to missing part of a tail to even something internally wrong like a hole in a throat. Most unfortunates were doomed to die soon after hatching and those who survived were at the bottom of the pack. If famine happened to strike, they would be the first ones to go. That was the hard rules of the wild: those who are weak do not survive.

Mother sighed, "She could be. If that is the case then it would probably be better for her to die rather than suffer throughout her life." I watched Whitefern as she played around my landing gear. Her markings looked vaguely familiar as if I had seen them before. Mother must have seen the question in my eye, "What's wrong?"

"Whose hatchling is this?" I asked.

"Talca's hatchling, as is he," she motioned toward another small but strong hatchling of the same colors.

I could see that they defiantly were. Whitefern somehow reminded me of her in a way beyond her markings. "She's small and weak looking like Talca too," I said suddenly, "But Talca is a strong and fast warrior. Maybe it's just that she looks weak, not that she is!"

Mother looked at me skeptically, "You might be right; I want to believe you're right." She repositioned her head so that her nose almost rested under her wing and closed her eyes. "I should get some sleep."

Regan looked at me amused, "Why does it matter to you so much that the hatchling is weak. She'll survive if Greatwings thinks it right."

"I don't know, Regan, I just think that every hatchling deserves a chance to live before everyone goes and says she won't make it."

"Okay," Regan snorted, "Don't bend your wing over this. I just thought it was funny that you care so much about a hatchling that isn't your own, it's just not natural."

We watched the hatchlings for about an hour when another plane entered the room. It was Elsayah, the healer of our pack. "I heard you went on your first hunt," she said, "and you two got quite a few minor injuries."

"Yeah," I said, "I ran into a few too many trees when I was chasing the deer."

"And I… I was kicked a couple of times by them too," Regan added.

She laughed, "You don't need to explain, Blitz told me. I've come to watch the hatchlings while you stop by the infirmary to get those treated."

Regan and I took off at once; we were ready to have some relief from the minor but painful wounds we'd received. My wings were still throbbing in certain spots. The infirmary at this time was darker. The one hole that gave the room lighting was shaded over by an inconvenient tree. Only two other planes were being treated at the time. One was an elder who had gotten her tail ripped up in a crash landing when her wings had failed her. The other was a young black and silver warrior who had grizzly claw marks across his nose. "Just one minute," a light blue marked healer said as she wrapped a tanned cow hide around the elder's tail. When she was done she looked at us. "Ah, the two apprentices I was expecting. Well done on your first hunt. Blitz told me you performed exceptionally. He also told me a few trees moved into your way and a couple of deer decided to run into you."

"Yeah," we said in unison.

"Well let's take a look," she said, scanning my wing up and down. "You've got a few scratches and a couple of nasty dents but those we can't do much about. They have to heal on their own." She glanced at my other wing, "You took a hard hit here." She gently touched her nose next to an oil streaked scratch. "We have to wash that out before it gets infected."

She went to the corner of the room and picked a few leaves from organized piles. She chewed them thoroughly before applying them to my wing. The slow throbbing increased to a stinging pain that felt as if deer antlers were raking across my wing. "Sorry," she apologized, "The stinging means it's working." She went to the other side and took out a thin strip of deer hide. She dipped it in a natural pool in the infirmary and draped it over my wound, twisting it tight around my wing she secured it in place. "There, that should do for now. You'll have to come back tomorrow to have the dock leaves reapplied. You'll only have to wear this for two days."

She turned her attention to Regan. "You've got a few scratches too. Hmm," she pressed her nose to one spot on his tail and Regan pulled away. "Yep, you need to have that tail wrapped up. It's pretty battered." She once again went to the back and picked up a piece of tree branch, "This should help." She set the branch on top of a fur stripped piece of hide and stripped the bark off the stick. Placing the branch back where she got it, she took a twoleg made wooden pail and filled it with water. She crushed the bark with her nose gear and shook the powder into the pail. "Here," she brought the twoleg pail over to him, "Drink this, it should help ease the pain."

Regan lapped up the water obediently. She gathered another hide while explaining what it was, "That's Balsam Fir bark, good for healing wounds, easing pain, and curing colds. What I'm going to apply to your tail is Cedarwood bark pulp. I'm going to wrap that up in deer hide to keep you from rubbing it off while you go about your business."

Regan lifted his head from the pail, "And what about me being able to rudder while I fly?"

"Oh, don't worry; this hide has been cut to allow your rudder to move while still being covered." She held up a piece of hide that she pulled over his tail. It had slits in it so that he could move his rudder freely. She smiled, "That's my teeth work. Before I invented this you would've had to stay on the ground for the next day."

A month passed without much commotion from anyone, Mukessi went home after being given a good dose of catnip and being left out in the woods to wake up confused. Mother was very near to laying eggs and spent most of her time in the nursery. Father was working well as the leader and Conleth was doing well with distributing patrols evenly across the warriors. Our hunting and fighting was improving considerably. Even the twolegs seemed to have given up on their objective of capturing forest planes.

It was the second month of Father's reign that Mother laid her eggs. Only five eggs were in this clutch. Mother's shone with excitement. It was on this day that Blitz talked to Father about our warrior ceremony. He accepted.

I stood proud in front of the pack as a fully fledged warrior, Father beamed with pride as he announced us warriors, "By Greatwings' will these two young planes have completed their training as apprentices. Tonight will be a night to celebrate for the pack as two new warriors enter our pack." He turned his head to Blitz, Conleth, and Elsayah. Their eyes shone bright as Father brought them up, "Not only does this pack have two new warriors; it also has three new apprentices as well. Blitz, come forth. You will be assigned Arazon, son of Isron and Talca, as your new apprentice." Blitz nodded politely and touched Arazon's nose with his wing. "Conleth, come forth. You will be assigned Alkali, son of Corzar and Jasmine, as your new apprentice." Conleth did the same as Blitz but with Alkali. "And last but not least," Father said, "We have an apprentice who would like to take the path of a nurse in the infirmary: Whitefern. Elsayah will be assigned Whitefern as her apprentice." Whitefern leaped up and let Elsa brush across her nose. I must have been the one cheering the loudest for the young apprentice's acceptance.

Whitefern smiled as she took in the pack's cheering for her. It wasn't often that a plane would take up the healing job before becoming a warrior. Father struggled to calm them down, "I've made a new rule to be followed. All new apprentices, healers or warriors, must participate in a pack's hunt after ceremony." A few of the planes shook their heads in disapproval. "I know that it is custom to learn battle moves before hunting but the pack needs it. Twolegs are still here and scaring deer off."

"Not that many deer," Conleth added, not wanting to worry the pack, "It's not as if the pack is poorly fed."

Father nodded, "But I'm talking about the future. If any famine were to strike, would we have enough hunters to survive?" A few outraged growls exploded quietly in Thunder Pack's members. "I'm not saying we are weak, I'm saying are stronger this way. Many of you know that some of the smaller tribes are perishing because of the loss of deer."

Gillzar, a dark green and silver plane shouted, "The twolegs can't chase off the deer… and if they do then they will suffer our wrath!"

Father extended his wings silencing the pack, "I know you think this is ridicules," Dapplefeather mumbled something disapprovingly, "Look just… please."

Conleth snapped his jaws in a bark to get everyone's attention, "Listen to your leader. He makes a good point in doing this." A few of the planes mumbled a forceful agreement. Father, relatively exasperated, flicked his rudders dismissing his pack.

Conleth pulled me aside after the meeting, "I need you to go on a special border patrol with your brother." He glanced around almost nervously. "Go to the Tribe of Rushing Water and ask them if they've had trouble with twolegs… and be careful, you're going to have to fly over a twoleg camp." I nodded, not really sure I should be making this journey without a seasoned warrior.

I gathered Regan and together we set off. I could sense Regan's excitement without even looking at him; his flight was so off kilter that flying behind him was a pain. I, however, was worried considerably. Neither of us had been allowed on the east border for fear of us being spotted by the twolegs. We'd heard that the Tribe of Rushing Water was the only pack to live without fear of the twolegs. They had such strong warriors that could tear a forest plane's wings right off. They also lived under a cliff so narrow that a twoleg would never try to interfere with them. Chinook was their main healer, a large plane who walked strong with Greatwings and knew every cure there was to know in the forest. And I certainly didn't want to face Sayleen, their leader. Some of the elders told stories about the tribe leader. They said that he had been raised in Lightning Pack but was banished. They said a scar ran down his body made by lightning itself. He was bound to kill us if we didn't work smoothly.

The second of our problems were the twoleg camps. Every plane knew that twolegs didn't want planes around. They had attacked and going into their territory was asking for trouble. I spotted the multicolored huts first, their scent strange and unforgiving. The smell made my eyes sting. It was worse than stale meat or rotting flesh, almost worse than oil and blood on a hunt gone badly.

We flew over the twoleg camp as low as we dared, fear of the Tribe of Rushing Water and instinct to stay away from twolegs was telling me to turn back and leave this mission to a more experienced warrior but loyalty to Thunder Pack and fear of being punished by Conleth was stronger. Regan pressed his red wingtips against mine, "I know you're scared but we're perfectly safe." When I looked down I didn't feel like it; twolegs and their cars ran across the black, hard ground below in chaos. I wanted to leave. "Look, come on, Roven, we're warriors now. Warriors aren't afraid of anything no matter what they face."

I turned and stared him in the eye, "Warriors can be afraid but never back down." We banked around back towards the lake where the Tribe of Rushing Water lived. "We have to show them we're not a threat," I said sensibly. Regan nodded and we lighted down on the cliffs concealing their camp. The wind whistled around us, threatening our grip on the earth. With wings extended we crept to the edge of the cliffs. We looked down at the swirling waves, licking and smacking at the sight of the jagged rocks below. Only a few feet away from the rock barrier was a strip of sand about ten to fifteen feet wide where a younger plane sat facing the lake. I tried to dig my nose gear deeper into the rock as another gust of wind rattled in our ears.

A large warrior flew just a hundred feet above our heads. In his mouth he held a cow. He banked toward us a growled menacingly. I dipped my head and waved a wing at him while lowering myself to where my belly scraped the cliff. We watched him disappear into a cave and return. He towered above us with flaps, elevators, and ailerons raised, "What are Thunder Pack warriors doing here?"

"We… uh… we came to see if you, uh, had trouble with twolegs. Most of the forest has been having trouble with them and… we were wondering if you were too," I foolishly sputtered.

The warrior gave us a glare that contained all hate for us, "If we were to have trouble, we'd tell you. You have your answer now go before I get Sayleen to rip your wings right off of your bodies." He looked us down as if sizing us up and his eyes went soft. "You are just new warriors," he breathed, "What are you doing here alone? Who sent you here?"

I rolled back, "Our deputy sent us here and as for the purpose, I just told you."

He looked worried, his eyes swirling storms of grey turmoil. "You should go. Wandering the territories freely is dangerous. Some planes would attack as soon as look at a trespasser and you had to have crossed the twoleg village or the lake to get here. It is not smart to fly over water unless you're used to it and the twoleg village is no place for new warriors. The twolegs are cruel monsters not to be messed with, they have weapons and aren't afraid to use them. Now go, before I'm caught talking to you."

Regan and I shared a look of fear before taking off back toward the territory. Conleth had to have known how risky this trip was so why had he sent us? He was a thick headed brute when it came to battle but a caring plane when living in the pack. I couldn't shake the bad vibe I'd gotten from him. I took it to Regan. "Regan, do you have any ideas about why Conleth sent us out here alone?"

Regan gave a sort of shrug, "I don't know. He had to have had a reason, though I question sending us out alone."

"Do you think he wanted us gone?" I suggested, thinking aloud.

Regan shifted around, stopping in front of me with hard eyes. "Why would you think that? Conleth is a good warrior who has served the pack for many years now. He's earned his rank, trust, and place in the pack. Are you questioning his honesty?"

I shrugged and continued on, still afraid and unsure about Conleth but I pushed back the feeling of doubt. My brother had a point; Conleth had helped in so many ways and had been a warrior ever since I could remember. His place in the pack was well earned. I managed to push away any form of doubt on Conleth's reputation and flew on.

We arrived just after noon to the pack to find another plane had gone missing. His name was Ravik. Ravik's main role in the pack was to hunt and he never, ever, left camp boundaries alone. "Something," Father said, troubled, "had to have lured him out. A cow perhaps, a deer, a scent trail?" He paced back and forth a few times before Mother came in. Father gave her a hopeful look. Mother lowered her nose and looked at the ground; no words had to be said. "What happened?" Father asked with dread thick in his voice, "Di you find anything that could lead to this mystery?"

"No," she said before shaking her head, "Nothing of him was found. It's as if he disappeared."

"Disappeared," Father repeated, beaten. He sighed before letting himself lay over a few rocks scraped away into a flat surface. Mother nuzzled him. "That's the second plane this week. The twolegs are taking our pack one by one; soon we'll be nothing but a memory. Our territory will be deserted; our lives only remembered as enemies of other packs, we'll be nothing more."

"Don't speak like that," Mother tried to comfort him, "We'll find a way to survive this. We can move to our various emergency camps if we are found out." Mother went over and put a protective wing over her clutch of eggs. "These are our future, these are not demolished, our pack is not gone, and we certainly still have a home." Father nodded slowly.

"Yes," he said as if it were more of a wish, "We still exist."

The conversation ended there.