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AU - A Boy Of Wolves
How does a child live with wolves?

With no claws or fangs to speak of, with a nose and ears that are hardly more than lumps of flesh, and eyes that are humbled by the dark, how does a child learn to hunt alongside wolves?

How does a child who knows only how to go on two legs, in a terrain that belongs to those on four, how does a child learn to run with wolves?

By learning.

By listening.

By thinking.

Between his physical disadvantages, his lack of instincts, and to say nothing of his 'late start', it would have been no surprise to anyone if Vincent had been unable to truly embrace his new life with Lord Hrimhari's pack. Vincent had much to prove however, even if only to himself. He stuck close to other members of the pack at all times, but gradually started keeping more distance between them on hunts, even though he did not go alone. He found flint and hardwood and fashioned himself knives to protect himself. He watched where scents were left, as the wolves smelled them, and from that he learned to identify tracks.

He learned to wrap his feet and hands in hide, rather than wear boots, to give him protection and still move more freely when he needed to climb or crawl. He went through a great deal of Danielle's medicinal salve in the process of becoming acclimated to that in particular, and the worst parts of winter still necessitated protecting himself more heavily.

He steeled himself against getting blood on his hands. He learned how to kill cleanly, and to appreciate his prey. Whatever he killed, he would eat or use himself, or see to it that others did. Hunting for sport was simply not done.

On the ground, he was outclassed, and no amount of practice or strengthening of his thews would overcome the divide between him and the pack. So he found the trees. Prey would not escape by taking flight or climbing away. Vincent would pursue, or he would already be waiting for it. Where he once could only help by beating the bushes or making noise to drive prey to ambush, now he would be the ambush.

The night eventually came, as it did for all members of the pack, where they were tasked to hunt alone. To bring back something that could do them harm.

"You'll be fine..." Rahne helped him affix his cloak as he prepared to leave the den. "We'll all celebrate when you come back." She bit her lip and drew a hand over his cheek affectionately as she looked at her--

"Of course I will, Mummy, I--" Vincent seemed more stunned to have said it than Rahne to have heard it, although she had far less qualms about letting the smile spill over her face.

"Hunt well, my son." Hrimhari laid a paw upon his son's shoulder, who could only tightly nod, before turning and marching out.

It was nearly a full day before Vincent returned, but return he did, a bear's limp form was slung over one shoulder, five ruts dug into his chest by the beast's claws covered in bandages. As the twins and the other pups, some of them having taken their own hunts by now even, swarmed to him, he watched Rahne and Hrimhari approach.

Vincent Hrimharisson set down his quarry and strode to his parents. "I'm home."