The two of them walked down the dirt road. Fox kept a comfortable distance away from Ahren, trailing behind him. Not long into the walk, though, Ahren looked over his shoulder at Fox with a certain expression on his face, and Fox got the inclination that Ahren didn’t like him being at his back. Fox moved to the side a bit so he was somewhat in step with the Alpha, but not directly next to him.

“I see Evander was none too gentle with you yesterday,” Ahren noted. Fox still ached from yesterday, but he was doing his best to ignore his bruises and shoulder. 

He was uncertain how to respond. It was an open-ended statement, inviting response but not requiring it. Fox wanted to tell him that he’d behaved as best he could, but Evander had put him in his place anyway. He didn’t know if Ahren would believe him if he tried defending himself.

He decided to give it a shot. “I didn’t understand why he let his recruits fight me. I did what he asked and cleaned the little snack shack, and I told him the truth when Seb tried to lie about who did what. Later, he told me it was just because I am a lone wolf, and no matter what good I do, I’m still going to be treated like one.”

As Ahren listened, he nodded once and his expression turned partially understanding and partially disappointed. “We have to be hard on all of you, regardless of how well you do. If we don’t maintain dominance, then you loners will start to give yourselves privileges,” he explained.

Fox frowned. “Why are we not allowed any privileges?” 

Ahren looked at him. “You’ll get some privileges, of course. But you won’t get enough to become a genuine member of the pack.”

Fox could feel the beginnings of frustration brewing in his chest. It was mainly directed at the unspoken rule every single pack seemed to follow; lone wolves weren’t allowed to be accepted in. “Why are we not allowed to become true members?”

“Too many of you let your problems affect others around you. In your grief or your anger, in your trauma, you more often than not end up hurting people. And some of you choose darker paths in life that destroy other lives. It’s safer to turn you all away rather than take a chance,” Ahren answered.

“Then why keep us here at all? Why not turn us away like every other pack?” Fox asked. He didn’t realize how hungry he was for the answer.

Ahren took a deep breath. Fox was uncertain if it was a sign of impatience or irritation. He watched the Alpha closely, but all Ahren did was look up at the trees they passed under, expression still calm, his gate still relaxed. 

“Safety, mostly. If we let you go, then there’s a chance you could spill information about our pack to other lone wolves, and if enough of you hear about what we have to offer, then you might band together to try and attack us. If we keep you here after your first trespass, then there’s no chance of that happening. Rumors will spread that lone wolves who enter here don’t ever leave, which will then deter other lone wolves from coming close, and the threat of an attack lessens. Granted, it’s equally dangerous to keep you inside the territory, close to the pack, but a threat that we know about is easier to manage than a threat we don’t know about. Is all this making sense?” Ahren explained.

Fox was surprised by such a thorough answer. But it did make sense. Lily of the Valley Pack was widely known for being self-sustainable and accommodating to all its members, but the specific details of the pack were mysteries. Even letting outside loners know about where the barracks for the patrol wolves was located could be enough to blow open a weak spot in the territory, making the pack more vulnerable. Even though Lily of the Valley Pack was the largest pack around, a well-planned attack from a smaller group could still lead to catastrophe.

“I understand,” Fox replied. 

Ahren smiled a little. Fox settled down in his barrage of questions, and the two of them walked quietly to wherever Ahren was taking them. Fox took mental notes on where they went, taking in landmarks and how long it took to walk to certain spots. They walked down the dirt road that led to town, but then they veered off the road and into the woods, taking yet another worn path through the foliage. 

At some point during their walk, Ahren struck up conversation again.

“Fox is a very uncommon name,” he mused. “Did your father or your mother name you?”

Fox caught on to the way Ahren phrased that question. It was like a little hook in his head, tugging just gently enough to draw his attention. He peered at the Alpha. Fox could lie, but Ahren could catch on to that and it would not leave a good first impression. Fox didn’t want both male Alphas to dislike him, so he decided against lying. 

He wasn’t willing to reveal too much about himself just yet. Fox knew if he revealed that he had named himself, then Ahren would press for his old name. Fox’s younger self, before he truly became a lone wolf, had died a long time ago, and Fox wanted his birth-given name to remain dead with him. He didn’t trust strangers to respect his wishes on being called Fox instead of his dead name, so he wasn’t going to reveal that tidbit about him at all.

“I would rather not talk about my parents,” Fox murmured, dodging the question entirely and shutting down any further questions about his past.

“Touchy subject?” Ahren queried. 

“Partially. Yes,” Fox replied. He held little regard for his father, who’d been absent for a majority of his life, but his mother... Just the thought of her made his chest tighten painfully, and he shoved away the memories that threatened to surface.

“My apologies,” Ahren said. Fox glanced at him again. He wasn’t sure if Ahren was going to be the same as Leyra, only barely caring about the fact that he had jabbed a wound that hadn’t yet healed.

“So… did you really trespass on accident?” Ahren asked next. 

“I did. I was hitchhiking and the route the driver took brought me into your land,” Fox stated. In retrospect, Fox wished he had known this pack’s location beforehand, so he could avoid the area entirely. He kind of wished he hadn’t hitchhiked, either, because on foot he would’ve been able to smell the pack long before coming close to its border. 

“Hm…” the Alpha hummed. He didn’t sound convinced, just like Leyra. Fox couldn’t help letting an annoyed and tired sigh escape his lungs. Ahren glanced at him, but Fox kept his gaze on his feet. He didn’t want to keep talking about himself or his mistakes, so he changed the subject.

“Can I ask what we’re doing today?” he prompted. 

“We’re going to take a look at the campsite and see if it needs cleaning up,” Ahren said. Fox tilted his head. Campsite? 

Ahren seemed to read the confusion on Fox’s face. “Part of my job is to help the pack maintain peace between their wild nature and their domesticated nature. Each werewolf has a conventional home, with all the modern amenities they need, but too much time spent indulging human needs can neglect our wild needs. So we have a campsite, a designated area for primitive camping, living without luxury items and accommodating our wolf nature. Leyra assists with this too, she organizes hunt rotations so that everyone in the pack has a chance to hunt as a wolf on a regular basis.”

“Oh. I see,” Fox replied. He thought it was smart of them to have a system like that, to ensure equilibrium within each of their members. “What about pups who aren’t old enough to hunt?”

“We have a few safe areas for them to play as wolves,” Ahren answered. For some reason, mentioning the pups made Fox think of his own time as a pup. He hadn’t played with other werewolves. He had usually played by himself.

He wanted to ask more questions about the pack, but Fox had a feeling that if he pried too much, the Alphas would grow suspicious and think he was up to something. Fox was only out to protect himself, and nothing more, so he kept quiet.

Ahren didn’t comment on anything else. They continued to traverse through the forest until they came across a wider path, and a wooden signpost that read “Campsite.” Fox took in the mixture of giant trees that provided a wide-reaching canopy, and the smaller trees that provided coverage for the forest floor. Shrubs and ferns brushed against their ankles. The dirt was cool and spongy under their feet.

“We’re just checking for any remnants of trash that shouldn’t be here, and excrement that nobody buried or picked up and threw away. We try to enforce a leave-no-trace rule, but not everyone follows it, especially when they think no one is going to make them face any consequences,” Ahren said.

“How are you able to tell who didn’t follow the rule?” Fox asked.

“It’ll be disgusting, but we’ll sniff the feces and track down the person that way.” Fox pulled a face, which Ahren saw. “Embarrassing on both ends, I know, but it’s more embarrassing for the rule-breaker.”

Ahren led Fox over to a wooden billboard that had a map of the surrounding campsite, and a small metal trash can with free poop bags in its own compartment on top. Ahren grabbed a few and handed them to Fox, then took a few for himself. 

“See this map here?” Ahren said, pointing to a red spot on an obvious pathway. “This is where we are now. We’ll start from the left side and work our way up and around to the right side, then circle back here.”

“Yes, sir,” Fox acknowledged. He took a moment to study the map, and found that it covered quite a bit of land.

The two of them began scouring the forest floor for trash and feces. Fox wondered why there would be trash if this campsite was for the bare minimum primitive kind of camping, but maybe there were people who didn’t follow that rule, either. 

He kept within sight of Ahren, so Ahren wouldn’t have to be concerned of Fox deliberately wandering off. Over the course of two hours, they gradually picked their way through underbrush, trees, decaying logs, streams, and boulders. 

They found someone’s stash of garbage strewn around a makeshift fireplace. Fox studied the fireplace and narrowed his eyes in distaste at how poorly-made it was. He held further disdain for the chip bags and marshmallow sticks left behind. 

“If they don’t use the campsite the way they’re supposed to,” Fox asked as they picked up the garbage, “doesn’t it damage their wild side? Because they’re not satisfying it correctly?”

“It does exactly that,” Ahren replied with an astonishingly proud smile directed at Fox, so obviously pleased that Fox momentarily froze in his movement. He did a double-take, but the Alpha was already turning away to pick apart the sad fire pit. “So many werewolves get too used to a pampered modern life and choose not to live in equality with nature. They’re only harming themselves in the long run, and in the end they’ll only have themselves to blame.”

For some reason, this made Fox think about the different lone wolves he’d encountered over the years. Some had become loners through tragedy, either a pack falling apart or a family falling victim to some danger or another, or by losing a mate and going mad with heartbreak. Others had become loners by choice, either because their pack treated them terribly or they felt that their life paths led elsewhere. Some were simply evil at heart, hurting others because they enjoyed it or because it brought them profit, and their sinister ways eventually had them cast out from their pack, if they weren’t killed beforehand. 

But Ahren’s statement had Fox wondering if there were other ways that pack wolves became lone wolves. “Do…” he started to ask, but he suddenly felt self-conscious about asking so directly. He stammered for a moment, to the point the Alpha turned a patient look on him, and he simply scrapped his current thought and started over. “I have a question.” That seemed more respectful.

Ahren smiled, vaguely amused. “Yes?”

“If they neglect their wolf nature, do they… deteriorate? Mentally or physically? Enough to… enough to become…” Fox was still struggling with directly asking him.

Ahren’s expression grew more solemn. “Yes. Both, actually. When their equilibrium is too disrupted it can sometimes get to an irreversible point, and they start to go crazy. It’s only downhill from there.”

Fox hesitated. The Alpha seemed to sense the apprehension within Fox, and he approached him. Fox tensed and kept his gaze on his feet. Ahren got close enough that he could feel his dominant atmosphere envelope him. “Just ask, Fox. I won’t be upset by curiosity.”

Fox swallowed. “Do they become lone wolves?”

Ahren sighed. “They do.”

Fox took a couple steps back, needing to separate himself from Ahren’s intense scent and aura. “Do you cast them out?”

“We have to,” Ahren replied. “They become a danger to the pack, and there’s nothing we can do to help them.”

“So you’ll force lone wolves who trespass to stay, but you’ll cast out your own members?” Fox asked. He felt a sting of unfairness.

“If a lone wolf that trespasses is crazy enough that they’re a danger to others, we kill them. We know our pack, though, and killing them would take a toll on everyone, so we cast them out,” Ahren said.

“But some of the lone wolves you keep are still dangerous even without being crazy—“

“I know,” Ahren interrupted. Fox drew his shoulders up and kept his gaze respectfully downward. “That’s why we continuously put them in their place, and if they fuck up enough times, we kill them.”

Fox had almost forgotten about that. He wrapped his arms around himself and turned away, further performing submissive body language. “But the ones you cast out, you just let them go crazy all alone? Dissolve into madness in the wilderness?” he asked quietly.

Ahren must have noticed a certain tone to Fox’s voice, because his next words were also soft. “We can’t help them. Believe me, if we could, we would.”

That statement reminded Fox, with another unfair sting, that pack wolves cared for each other in a way that Fox would never understand. 

Fox’s breath caught, and he readjusted his trash bag to distract Ahren. The Alpha took a moment to study him, though, but Fox looked everywhere but his direction. Eventually, the Alpha kicked some dirt over the burnt remnants of the fire, and continued walking. Fox followed him.