Among other things, the air smelled of new sweat. It was an odd scent he hadn't encountered before. Whatever the source, it stayed in the distance, but the sweet stench grew stronger with each passing moment. It was getting closer. He splashed all four of his paws through the shallow part of the stream where it had slowed to a trickle and into the trees beyond. There Gray found shade in a better vantage point.
It was not the part of the stream to which his kind normally came. There was a bend on the north side of the woods where they usually took to the water, but that day he'd felt like exploring. His mate had wandered off long ago, headed back to the pack. He'd sniffed and investigated far beyond their normal range and wanted to get back to her, but his interest was piqued.
Just then, something moved in the water. It may have been a bird stalking a minnow or a small animal rushing back to its den. The noise only held his attention momentarily before he was back to the unfamiliar scent. His eyes darted from place to place, then back to the direction of the odor, keeping watch on the hillside for whatever might be coming along. Gray lay down amongst the brush and dead leaves for a moment, deciding to scout from a hidden place.
There were noises to go along with the smells. Sounds he also did not recognize. Chirping and cooing sounds in call and response. The pitches ranged from low to high but were always calm. They filled him with joy and wonder. They were happy, playful sounds, like those the pups made in between naps. He shifted, ears dancing to catch them all. Then he stood and walked to the edge of the trees hoping for a glance at their source.
Turning his ears, Gray studied the air. The noises had become rhythmic and melodic. Songs like those of the birds that lived in his pack's part of the land. These were followed by more of the joyful sounds. He had the urge to rush over the hill and greet the strangers, but instinct and better judgment kept him secure in the woods. He was charged with the safety of the others and night had begun to fall.
Cool breezes blew through the trees as the sun settled. The noises from the distance grew muffled and sparse and became overpowered by the crickets and the frogs. It was late and he needed to get back. His mate would be glad to see him.
..ooOOoo..
The next morning, Gray stood tall and watched as the pack roused. Once he'd made his rounds, checking on the rest, he wandered toward the edge of the woods and to the stream, looking back time and again to make sure none followed. If danger presented, he didn't want to draw it back to the pack and place its members in danger. The other wolves went on about their morning rituals, all except the blue one.
Blue's fur was thick and so dark it shone brilliant indigo in bright sunlight. He would lead the pack one day, but not that day. Blue was still young and foolish and Gray knew he was watching to see how to lead, or perhaps watching for a weakness he might challenge.
Once confident he wasn't followed, Gray picked up his pace, zigging this way and that over roots and under fallen tree trunks. Leaves and twigs cracked underneath the giant padded paws. Minutes later, he reached the large clearing where the stream flowed gently. Beyond it was a vast open place, a scar in the wooded landscape. He caught the faint scent of the strange things he had experienced the night before, but this time, when he reached the edge of the woods, he saw them as well. Beautiful creatures with bronze furless skin that stood upright on two limbs. There were three of them, a small pack of their own. One male, one female and a tiny one that the mother washed in the water. The cooing and chirping was as he had pictured, the way his mate played with their pups.
Gray was mesmerized watching, but careful to stay out of sight. He watched the female feed the small one from her breast, again as his mate had fed their pups. She held the tiny one close and sang to it. The largest of the three prepared some manner of small animal and when he was done, mother and father ate.
The gray wolf licked his black rubbery lips and continued to spy on his discovery. Interest in their appearance and rituals grew into fondness and before he knew it, the sun was high in the sky.