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Project Wolfen: Chapter Two

(You must agree to disclaimer and copyright posted in first chapter to read this.

Alexei may seem like a very well-hung guy, being 8" long, but please bear in mind that he is about seven and a half feet tall. So, in comparison to his bodily size, he's not that "big" at all. Also, I know that Soviets would probably have used metric measurements, but for the sake of readability, I'm sticking to miles, yards, feet, and inches.)

The General paused for a long moment, then, sensing that the Wolven were on the very edges of their seats, he continued. A smile quickly became apparent on his face as he spoke. Alexei and Anastasia might be involved in a relationship that the project was not supposed to entail. However, they were both quite apparently paying undivided attention to him--perfect. So he had made a sound decision.

"So--you understand the objectives of you mission. You will reconnoiter the Pacific Northwest by using Canada as a base of operations. You will not allow yourselves to be seen or suspected in Canada--but poisoning our enemies' minds with fear by being spotted in America may be advantageous."

"Aside from the fact that you will only have whatever base you can build, Canada will offer to you few amenities. We will send a helicopter to your last known position, every two weeks, to drop off supplies and orders, and you may relay information back to us using coded radio," the General then paused, seeing a question that went, of course, unspoken on Alexei's lips.

"A question, comrade?" he said, looking directly at the tallest Wolfen.

"Comrade General--what are the rules of engagement, sir?"

The gray-haired man nodded once, approvingly, as did Matvei, though, of course, less perceptibly.

"A good question, comrade... you may use force defensively, of course, or to remove imminent obstacles to your mission. It is suggested, however, that you use force only sparingly--things will not be good for you if you get bogged down in a firefight, comrade. We will not be able to assist you; in fact, we will deny any knowledge of your existences."

There was a long, awkward moment of silence. Matvei's eyes narrowed just the slightest amount, and Sergei wondered what was going through his alpha's mind.

"You will be unsung heroes if you are killed," the General said, "but I do not expect for that to happen. You are strong," he said gruffly, nodding confidently at the Wolven, "strong and deadly. And you are smart, too. It is entirely possible that almost none in our great nation will ever know of your existences," the General shrugged, "but it matters not. All of your comrades stand with you, in spirit, young warriors. Do not let us down."

"General, sir," said Sergei, and the man had to blink--it was rare, to say the last, for any Wolven, much less the technician instead of the leader, to speak up like that, "what are we looking for? And what do we do if we find it, sir?"

The blue-eyed man nodded, his back staying perfectly rigid, so much so that it made Alexei and Anastasia feel vaguely insecure, as if their own ruler-straight backs were inadequate.

"Anything of interest. We already know, of course, centers of population. Look for military, police, or other government activity. Factories. Strange businesses that might be cover-ups. Nuclear weapons," he ended in a slightly softer tone.

The possession of nuclear arms by both the Soviet Union and the US was the only force; unused, but a force so deadly that its sue in combat was unnecessary; that kept both nations from directly engaging one another.

"And if you do find nuclear weapons... destroy them. Blow them up. Even if you have to take it down with you, you must do it. If we can convince the Americans that they are as undeserving of nuclear power as they really are, this war can end, perhaps, with the detonation of only one of their bombs. Wouldn't you like that, comrades? To give your lives to end a war, before it can even really begin?"

Predictably, though all four Wolven snapped off clean salutes, their chines held high and their paws at their foreheads as they stood, only one spoke.

"We are ready and willing, comrade General!"

"That was out of turn," the human thought, though with a confident smile, before Matvei spoke again.

"When will we leave for this mission, General, sir?"

The six foot tall wolf was visibly enthusiastic, almost dangerously so. The man had been in a thousand battles, seen a thousand men die, and sent a thousand again to their own deaths. He knew that such enthusiasm, even if it was the most well-intentioned pride to serve the great USSR, was sometimes a liability. Sometimes a fatal one.

"They are strong. They can do what their leader tells them to."

His expression had always been slightly gruff. But now it morphed, slightly, as only a military man's was able to.

"There have been strange movements of trucks into the forested parts of the north and northwestern part of America. They could be planting nuclear missile silos there... they are aware, I am sure, of our use of Siberia."

Project Wolfen was a radical, but successful Soviet undertaking. Some other experiments were less radical, with mixed rates of success. Others were even more radical... those were all unsuccessful.

So far.

The General had heard rumors, ridiculous ones, of what went on in the bases that were built just like this one all over Siberia. He hadn't believed them at all, at first.

"But if the rumors are true, would any of the leaders of them believe what we are doing here, with Project Wolfen?"

The General had had at least a dozen thoughts since the time that Matvei asked his question. And yet, only a second had elapsed. He opened his mouth, and words flowed out, requiring little conscious effort from the man.

"Today, comrade. You leave today."

"Come on, comrades, let's go!" Matvei managed to yell over the loud roar that reverberated throughout the hangar.

All four Wolven were dressed in snow camouflage military fatigues--tough, sturdy clothing that only became comfortable when worn in over the period of weeks. A human's tender skin might be irritated by it, but the fur of the Wolven protected them from the cloth's rough, scratchy surface.

The alpha Wolfen flicked a speck of dust from the muzzle of his rifle, and then slung it again. Like Sergei and Anastasia, he carried an AK47 over his back, along with several magazines. Apart from that, Matvei carried maps, survival gear, and some field guides to American wildlife and survival in Canada. Sergei carried small, finger-sized radio transmitters, a camera with plenty of film, and a variety of mechanical and electrical tools. Anastasia carried medical supplies, of course, and at the insistence of Matvei, a very suspicious looking bag that he told her to keep hidden from everyone else.

Alexei hastened to catch up to the rest of the pack. Like all the other Wolven, he carried a suppressed Makarov on his hip. However, in addition to the AK rifle, which was slung over his front, he also carried a special Mosin Nagant on his back--fitted with a suppressor and scope. He carried the most ammunition out of all of the Wolven, plus several grenades, a few shaped-charge bombs, and some MON-50 anti-personnel mines. (note: a MON-50 is basically a Soviet copy of the Claymore mine)

The tallest Wolfen hurried towards the anonymous looking copter that would carry them to their destination at a quick jog. But this time, he didn't feel embarrassment at being the last one... because he knew that his comrades always had a special place for him in each of their hearts, that they'd support him and accommodate him.

A smile flickered across his face, and he hopped aboard the craft, strapping himself into place just next to Anastasia. After he did so, Matvei looked around at his comrades, and tapped the back of the co-pilot's seat with his paw. The Wolven were facing each another somewhat; Anastasia was in between Alexei and Sergei, but the chopper's row was only big enough for the three of them... Matvei had to sit across from them, alone.

None of that registered on the alpha's face, however, and he looked at his pack with steely-eyed confidence as the helicopter started to lift off of its landing pad.

At Matvei's signal, the three other Wolven lifted grayish balaclavas over their faces, and donned throat mikes. Their radios were already tuned to the same frequency, and after the alpha put on his own mask; its shade matching the color of his fur perfectly, he tested it out.

"Wolven Pack... report in," he murmured, his voice audible over the roar of the heli as it took off towards the east.

"Sergei, reporting in."

"Anastasia, reporting in."

"Alexei, reporting in."

"Good," Matvei said, "now, let us conserve power and turn off our communication units. In the field, we must be careful to use only code words, understood?"

The other Wolven gave their radios two quick on-off clicks, the signal for acknowledgment.

"Alright..." the alpha said, moodily, "now, radios off... and comrades? Get some rest," Matvei said, then gave a rare, somewhat chilling grin, "There will be a farce of that when we hit the ground."

Soon enough, Sergei and Alexei were calmly dozing into their seats. The seats weren't hard, but they certainly weren't comfortable either. They were built for practicality, and ease of mass-production. But still, they offered a somewhat comfortable sleeping area...

Anastasia managed to "accidentally" allow her paw to fall on Alexei's, as she "dozed". Her muzzle, concealed by her balaclava, betrayed a small, contented smile as she looked at his large, dark, muscled chest rise and fall. The weapons expert gave an involuntary murr as the female touched him, and scooted a little closer to her.

Anastasia looked at him for a few long moments, then felt a pair of eyes on her. The Wolfeness froze, and turned, slowly, to see that Matvei was looking directly at her. The silverish patches around his eyes seemed to glow in the snowy night as the chopper flew on, and he spoke into his throat mike.

"Are you feeling alright, comrade?" he asked quietly, his voice distorted a little by the radio, "it is, after all, our first mission. And as you are a female, I understand if you need to experience some feelings of... togetherness. But I must ask you," the six foot Wolfen said, nodding his head at the female's paw, before speaking suspiciously, and somewhat threateningly, "why Alexei? Does he not scare you?"

"No, no, it was just an accident, comrade," Anastasia said, moving her paw from the dark Wolfen's, feeling the warmth she'd come to associate with his presence leave her, slightly, as she did so, "...but no. He does not scare me. ...He's just a fighter... he attacks who attacks us, and protects us. We have no reason to fear him, no?" she asked, cocking her head slightly, her green eyes burning into Matvei's orbs of blue.

"Perhaps not, little Ana," the alpha said somewhat chidingly, "but still. He is two feet taller than you, and I don't know how much heavier, stronger, and more powerful..."

The female's ears involuntarily flattened against her head, as the tip of her cold, wet nose lowered slightly.

"But you must not think that I don't value you, comrade," Matvei said, reaching out to place a paw on the female's knee, "you, too, are very, very valuable to us... to me."

Anastasia blushed under her mask, and looked up at her alpha. Her emotions were mixed--she knew that he lusted after her, if only a little--such was natural. But he had never put a paw on her, ever, and now he was complimenting her...

But Alexei was her's... and she was Alexei's. So the female placed her relatively gentle paw on top of Matvei's, left it there for a moment, then eased his paw away.

"Thank you, comrade..." she said softly, but genuinely, "I am glad..."

Her green eyes peered into the male's blue eyes, but strangely, after a moment of confused bitterness at her unspoken denial to his unspoken advance, Matvei spoke sharply.

"Get some rest," he said, pulling his paw away from her, pulling on a custom-fitted pair of gloves somewhat roughly, "good night, Anastasia."

"Comrade, I--" the female said, reaching out to her alpha, feeling the pain that her words had given him.

"Good night, Anastasia," Matvei said, turning away sharply, a definite growl audible in his voice.

Anastasia watched as her comrade, and, yes, friend glared a smoldering hole into the side of the helicopter.

"Could it be possible that he feels as alone as Alexei and I did?"

But there was nothing but anger in the alpha's eyes as he continued to avoid Anastasia's guilty, pained gaze. And after a few minutes, the medical Wolfeness had to give up. She had to--there was nothing to gain, she accepted, by facing the brick wall of Matvei's will. That enemy was not one that she could defeat.

Not alone, anyway.

Anastasia squirmed in her seat slightly, adjusting herself so that she conserved as much of her own body heat as possible. She opened her brilliant green eyes to look over Alexei. The tallest Wolfen's chest slowly rose and fell, and in his snow camouflage, he looked all at once intimidating, powerful, and friendly and welcoming.

Ana glanced to the other side, to see that Sergei was looking over the rifle in his paws, examining it, intensely curious; stopped from opening it up and breaking it down to its individual components only by the presence of Matvei.

The hazel eyed Wolfen glanced at Anastasia, and gave her a smile. He jerked his head at Matvei, seeing that the blue eyed Alpha was upset, and looked back at the Wolfeness.

Sergei sighed slightly through his nose, his breath condensing in the freezing air as soon as it left his snout. He rolled his eyes once, and shook his head, grinning as he too curled up to sleep.

Ana felt guilt still, as she glanced at Matvei to see that the blue eyed Wolfen wasn't sleeping, but was still looking anywhere but his comrades. It was strange for him to be so not domineering... perhaps he, too, was nervous about the mission.

But the medic Wolfeness couldn't do anything about that now. For better or for worse, the human Soviets had decided that it was time to give their most promising experiment a test.

And, for better or for worse, that test would test their packhood bonds to the very limit, and, quite possibly... break them.

Matvei jerked in his seat.

He'd fallen asleep, quite unintentionally.

The Wolfen pulled back the sleeve of his outfight to look at the watch that was strapped around his gloved wrist. It wasn't a regulation watch--rather, it was one that he'd... won? Earned? Been given?... years ago.

That trainer was nice to him. Very, very nice. Her soft hands had taught him how to hold a rifle, how to fire it, and how to be willing to order his comrades, his pack, his practical own flesh and blood to their deaths if he had to.

She'd taught him that the burden of the leader was to care about your subordinates more than you care about yourself... and yet, to be just as willing to sacrifice them as you are to sacrifice yourself.

She was a nice lady, but one day, she'd had to leave. And when she did, Matvei had shed a tear.

Then, her soft hand had turned into a hard, merciless slab of ice as it slapped him across the face.

"Learn this, Matvei, and learn it well," she'd said, looking down at the young, crying Wolfen cub without a hint of emotion in her eyes, "you have a duty to your comrades... because the motherland demands it, for now. If, someday, the motherland demands for you to brush them aside and never care about them again... then that will be your duty."

Matvei opened his ice blue eyes. Alexei was resting his head on Anastasia's shoulder, and the Wolfeness looked more content and protected than he'd ever seen her before. Sergei was contentedly sleeping by himself, resting straight back in the seat, rifle across his lap.

The hazel eyed Wolfen seemed to wake up, for Matvei could see those distinctive orbs of light brown or amber that seemed to change color depending on how you looked at them.

Sergei shifted slightly and yawned, baring the white fangs of a wolf as he stretched. His gray and silver snout pointed at Matvei, and the technician's lips twisted into a familiar smile that Matvei did not return.

The Alpha looked down at his watch again... judging by the time, they were somewhere over northwest Alaska. Matvei sat up slightly to look out the chopper's window. It was snowing, hard, and ground was only a few hundred feet below; they were flying low to avoid being picked up by radar.

All at once, a warning klaxon went off. Alexei, Anastasia, and Sergei woke up instantly as the blaring alarms went off in their helmet com-links. But Matvei only got cooler, more detached and analytical than he already was.

"We are found! Radar has picked us up," the co-pilot said hurriedly, "we cannot continue, only if we turn back now will we escape the certain American response. Wolven Pack--we're going to let you down, now. Continue towards your intended landing zone, and there, fulfill your mission. We will send another helicopter to you as soon as we can, comrades, this is what the General said."

Matvei waited until the co-pilot had finished his blabbering before rattling off orders, noticing that the aircraft was both slowing down and decreasing its altitude.

"Double-check your gear, make sure that it is all secured! Out of those belts, and Sergei!--"

"Yes, comrade?"

"--open the door, and get that rope out."

The hazel eyed Wolfen did just that, and freezing, billowing air rushed into the helicopter's cabin, chilling all of the Wolven to the bone. But they steeled themselves quickly, as they prepared to descend. Rifles were checked, balaclavas were adjusted, and Matvei made eye contact with all three other members of his pack. Then, they lowered goggles over their eyes, to protect themselves from the worst of the cold and keep their vision less affected by the gently falling snow.

Alexei gave a thumb up to his alpha. Anastasia did the same, then Sergei did as well.

"Alright... just like we've practiced comrades..."

The helicopter hovered lower still, slowing down to a halt.

"Now! Go, go, go!"

Sergei gentled hopped out of the copter, one paw encircled around the rope. Then, as he fell, he gripped it with the other paw. The hazel eyed Wolfen hit the ground, then stepped a few feet away, raising, and then lowering his rifle.

"Clear!" he called, but Anastasia was already coming down the rope after urging from Matvei.

"Comrade, you next!" the alpha said, gesturing towards the rope.

Alexei paused for a split second, then moved quickly, sliding down the rope.

"The pilot said the fighters are incoming already..."

The dark Wolfen hit the snow-covered ground and peered around, then lowered his rifle, having taken up position next to Anastasia.

But, it appeared, it was too late for Matvei.

The helicopter began to pull away, and off in the distance, the roar of incoming jet planes was audible.

"Down, comrades, down!" Sergei yelled, and the Wolven splayed out face down on the ground, hiding themselves.

But Alexei looked to the side. The helicopter was flying away at its best speed, but the fighters were already upon it. One craft launched a missile that shrieked through the freezing, snowy night--

The helicopter was mined, Alexei should have known it from the beginning. It was just too risky to take the chance that a piece of the copter might be identified and traced back to the USSR if the copter was shot down. Such an act of aggression would escalate the Cold War into a real, all-out nuclear conflict.

A loud, huge explosion shattered the peace of the Alaskan tundra. Alexei had to squint to prevent his cool gray eyes from being damaged by the sudden, bright light of the mushrooming explosion. The chopper was torn apart into flaming bits, none bigger than Anastasia's delicate finger. There was no question about it... the pilots were dead.

And, therefore, so was Matvei.

"Hold... hold, comrades!" Sergei said, and Alexei bit his tongue, clenching his eyes shut... the dark Wolfen glanced to the side to see Anastasia shedding tears.

A moment later, the jets left, and Sergei spoke again.

"Alright... on your feet, comrades. Come... up," he said more gently.

The hazel eyed Wolfen looked from Anastasia to Alexei, and had to find his voice before speaking. He raised his paw from his rifle, holding it pointing towards the ground with one gloved paw, and pointed to the southeast.

"We must make for that forest, otherwise we will be found by the certain American searches. ...It's what Matvei would have wanted, comrades... let's go--"

"Mind your place, comrade," said a firm voice from behind the Wolven, and three sets of ears perked up and three heads snapped to the side, "I do not need you to tell them what I want."

And there he was, walking over to his pack like nothing was wrong. The alpha's blue eyes were still visible under even his goggles, and he walked just as proudly, as purposefully as ever, towards his pack.

"Now, comrades... we make for the southeast. If we enter the woods before American search parties arrive, we can continue on our mission without so much difficulty. So... Wolven Pack! Let's move!"

That was the signal. All four Wolven held their rifles by the forend and the buttstock, and jogged at a respectable pace--for them. They were moving as fast as a man would sprinting. The pack covered ground quickly, and within two hours, was well within the deep forest--far enough for them to lower their guard slightly.

Their breaths began to come out in pants that condensed into visible moisture the moment they left their maws, and Matvei, at the head raised a paw.

"Hold up, comrades..." he said.

The pack slowed down, gradually, and then formed up around Matvei. The alpha put a digit to his lips, and closed his eyes to listen.

"That's right..." thought Ana, "he has the most developed senses of us all. Once, he heard me enter the common room... when he was in the opposite hallway."

It was snowing... though, to be fair, to say that about the frigid Alaskan northeast would be like saying that there was oxygen in the air. Snowflakes fluttered down from the Heavens, collecting on branches, leaves, the ground... Alexei's nose...

Anastasia smiled up at the Wolfen, and reached up to gently bat the collected ice crystal away. The male's nose scrunched up and his eyes shut, but he didn't back away. Sergei was, as always smiling, but managed to furrow his brows even as he did, looking from Alexei to Anastasia with a bemused "...what?" sort of expression.

Ana blushed, Alexei looked away, and Sergei rolled his eyes. It was just a bat on the nose; clearly, even Alexei needed his share of physical intimacy. The techie took a knee, setting his rifle against a tree, and reached into his pack, taking out a small radar system. He looked at it for a moment, nodded to himself, turned the system off, and concealed it again. After standing and slinging his weapon again, Sergei turned to Alexei and Ana.

"You know," the brown-eyed Wolfen whispered, as he approached the Wolfeness and the weapons specialist, "the suffix 'stan' means 'the land of'... so, it would be sensible if the Americans would call their country Americanistan."

Ana cupped her paw over her mouth, eyes crinkling as she let out a brief, muffled, high-pitched giggle. Alexei smiled slightly, shaking his head slowly, his sharp, long fangs visible for just a second, but no more. The joke was a bad one, even by Wolven standards--they were made to be powerful, deadly warriors, not comedians. But, as always, it served to ease some of the tension that was so thick in the air it might be tangible.

By then, Matvei had exited his trancelike state, and was glowering slightly at the rest of the pack, realizing that they'd disobeyed him and made noise. But the alpha Wolfen rolled his blue eyes, and turned, beginning to pad away.

Within seconds, the other three scurried to follow him. And yet, none dared to speak. Snow fluttered down still, though the tall pines of Alaska. The needles served only to scatter the precipitation, sending the majority of it floating, swaying, lazily, towards the ground. Sergei kept his mind from growing complacent and idle by wondering about the drag coefficient of any given snowflake, and how the totally variable crystalline structures that made them might affect it.

The Wolven's booted, padded feet made soft scrunch, _scrunch_ing sounds as their owners made their way to the southeast, step by step. They were moving at a respectable pace, and so, snowflakes glided to the ground all around them, rarely landing on their furred forms.

Anastasia kept her gloved finger carefully outside the trigger-guard of her rifle. With her green eyes alone, she glanced to the side, looking at Alexei. The taller Wolfen seemed so confident, in the way he calmly, coolly, and yet strongly held his Kalashnikov, glancing around throughout the forest, keeping his guard up.

A moment later, the dark Wolfen's ear twitched, and he too glanced to the side. Gray eyes met green, and underneath the tallest male's dark facial fur appeared a hue of red. Ana smiled, and looked forward, then back at Alexei, and held his gaze until he returned her smile.

Suddenly, Matvei spoke, instantly commanding the attention of his comrades.

"The Americans won't be around for some time. I heard nothing. No aircraft, no infantry, no vehicles... at the absolute least, they are mobilizing some sort of search party to check the area. We can avoid them easily, even if they eventually do come towards us."

For a moment, they walked along, two by two. Matvei strode along next to Sergei, leading Ana and Alexei, who were slightly more far apart than the two males were--this rough, four-Wolfen phalanx

Alexei let a slight sigh of relief out through his nose, his breath collecting and condensing in the air in front of him. So, his comrades were safe, relatively. They might be in a strange land, but the terrain and climate were familiar to them. And it's not like this was the first time that they'd been dropped off in a new, frigid place with only minimal supplies.

Apparently, Sergei's thoughts were in the same direction, because he spoke--he was the one least likely to be scolded by Matvei, because after years of living, eating, training, and being together, the alpha had more or less given up telling him to maintain the pin-drop silence that he was supposed to. The humans had always frowned upon interaction between the pack members, but, well, there was no trainers here... and Sergei's voice was somewhat calming...

"Hey, comrades..." the brown eyed Wolfen said quietly, making Matvei's ear turn slightly, "you remember that time, a few years back, when we were dragged out of bed in the middle of the night, and made to dress and run as far as we could, as fast as we could, into the forests to the west of base?"

A pause--no one dared to answer. But then, a voice.

"Indeed... the trainers lost us after we found the drop. After that, it was a week of avoiding them, making small fires, hunting, and playing together in the snow and wilderness."

That came from Matvei. Behind him, Alexei canted his head just a little, while Ana's eyes widened.

"The trainers were always harshest towards Matvei. One word out of place and he'd be beaten... for us, there was at least some leeway. But now there are no trainers. How many times in our lives have we been without trainers..? Just then, I think, when we were forced out on that march, and they were unable to recapture us. I remember... Matvei smiled then, and played with us. He never did before, and he never has since."

A pause. Then, Ana spoke.

"I remember it..." she said, a little meekly at first, but, as she continued to speak, her confidence grew, "do you remember, comrade Matvei, when you found that tiger pawprint? The humans said later that it must have been our imaginations, because tigers in Siberia were all killed years ago. But you found it... didn't you, comrade?"

Matvei made a murring sound of assent in his throat, and walked along, his rock-like silverish face now slightly offset by a smile on his lips.

"I did... ...Alexei, comrade," the alpha said, almost sharply, making the weapons specialist look forward instantly, with a soft bark of acknowledgment, "...what was your favorite part of that... little vacation?"

There was a long pause. Alexei's dark fur rippled, almost, under the warm, tough camouflage he and the other Wolven wore until he spoke.

"I... well, I liked it when we all curled up at night, comrade. But more than that... I also remember that I was the one who got the deer the first day, and made it last the entire week... I remember when I came back with it, I was upset that my fur and uniform were messy with blood."

There was a brief pause, and the tall Wolfen's dark eyes seemed to shine as he went on.

"And then, when I mentioned that, all three of you jumped on me, and did not let me up until I was completely clean."

A memory flashed into all of the Wolven's minds. Playful yips, murrs, and growls echoed around the inside of their skulls. Four tails wagged, and a blurred image of a younger, smaller Alexei--he hadn't yet been subjected to quite as many growth enhancing drugs--being pinned down by the efforts of his three packmates, and licked and licked until the blood on his fur and uniform was replaced only by the affections of his normally withdrawn and reserved comrades.

Anastasia smiled, looking to the side, seeing the way Alexei's normally emotionless face was bright. The Wolven had spent their entire life under the iron rule of their trainers. But now that they were free, albeit, free far behind enemy borders... perhaps they'd be just a little happier at the freedom that they now had. Perhaps. But a lifetime of harsh rule had made the Wolven coarse.

"Still," Ana thought, "Alexei and I... are mates. Matvei has not scolded anyone, though we have.... transgressed, some. Sergei is... as he always is. There is hope."

Arctic nights...

...are fucking cold.

Matvei knew this. His first allegiance was to his country, of course... but to serve his country, sometimes he had to serve his comrades. That's why, when it became too cold, too dark, and they'd been on their feet for too long, he'd ordered the Wolven to stop, and take some rest.

Oh, this wasn't after just one 24-hour period of travel. It was after a little more than two... perhaps fifty-five hours of constant marching. It mattered not to the Wolven, though; they were built for endurance, and though they were tired, they could have kept at it for more time yet.

Still.

To do that would exhaust them, and, Matvei reminded himself, they were well beyond enemy lines. No, they needed as much of their wits and strength about them as possible.

"So... let's build a shelter," the alpha said.

The sky was dark gray, and snow still fluttered down, as if nonstop. A shelter would keep the worst of the snow and wind off of the Wolven, and would serve to conserve their body-heat. Apart from that, it would camouflage them further from American aerial surveillance. Several times over the past two or so days, Matvei had had to order his pack to stop, and take cover, burying themselves under snow to hide from passing aircraft.

The Wolven nodded, shoulders relaxing at the relative respite. Though they were capable of so much more difficult physical feats, now, even Alexei was tired. To build a shelter would be a welcome break, and to rest in it upon its completion would be more welcome still.

"Alexei, comrade," Matvei said, addressing his tall pack-brother, looking up to lock the weapon specialist's slate-colored eyes with his own, "you go hunting--bring us something so that we do not have to use rations, and don't fire a rifle. Stick close to Sergei--comrade, you get tinder and pull down branches of pine to make a roof. Little Ana and I will get wood for fire and for the structure of the shelter."

The alpha Wolfen canted his head slightly, his light blue eyes narrowing in curiosity... Sergei just gave a nod of acknowledgment, wearing his omnipresent, laid-back smile... but the ears of both Alexei and Anastasia flattened--why?

Matvei gave himself a mental shake. He could see no reason for them to be anything other than happy to serve their pack and their country... so, if they were upset by their assignments... too bad. The alpha had been taught to be harsh, when necessary, and even here, a thousand miles from the nearest Soviet flag, trainer, or readily-used disciplinary baton, he would not forget what he'd been born--no; what he'd been created to do.

"Understood? We will all meet back here within two hours," the silver-furred Wolfen said, with more than just the hint of an edge in his voice, "make no mistake, comrades... everything I tell you to do in some way contributes to our survival. Even if you do not see how immediately."

The rest of the pack stood at attention, and, as one, snapped off a salute, and made to leave--Sergei jerked his head, and, humbly, Alexei followed him to the north, his eyes flickering over to Anastasia for a brief second before he submissively followed.

And then, just like that, the two forms--one impressively tall, one more normally sized; both furred, both camouflaged, and both incredibly important to their small, subdued pack--walked off into the forest, vanishing into its dark brown trees.

And then, just like that, Anastasia and Matvei were left alone.

Snow still fell, but with the departure of Alexei and Sergei, it seemed that much thicker, that much more impenetrable... that much colder, and that much more of a barrier between an alpha and his pack-sister.

Blue eyes met green for a moment, before the smaller Wolfeness looked away, as if fearing being scolded for some reason or the other. Matvei felt a heartbeat of regret--truth be told, he was not a hard being by nature--he was not a man of steel. But quickly, the Wolfen beat down his emotions, and spoke curtly and purposefully.

"Come, Anastasia. There is work to do, plenty of work, yes? So, come, and assist me."

The alpha turned on his heel, moving away. He sensed a brief split-second of hesitation before the hurried scrunch, scrunch of the Wolfeness's booted feet came up from behind him. The Wolven walked together through the snow covered forest at a medium interval.

Matvei was uncharacteristically silent, Anastasia noted; by now, normally, he would be correcting her or criticizing her in some way, or giving her some kind of lesson, or something. The latter, Ana didn't mind, and sometimes even enjoyed; the former hurt her no matter how much she shielded herself.

But this silence... it was maddening. The green-eyed Wolfeness was on edge, ready to taste the bitterness of a harsh word from her alpha at any time. But it never came.

"...Something is wrong, Anastasia, comrade?" Matvei said, slowing his pace slightly, so that the Wolfeness's distance closed, "you're being quiet... I'm concerned. This is my place as the alpha, yes? To be concerned about my comrade pack-mates. Tell me, little Ana... what is on your mind?"

Anastasia was quiet for a moment. The Wolven stopped at a huge pine that must have fallen only months ago, and each pulled out a two-in-one shovel and axe and began to work--they formed short, fat chunks of wood for fuel, and longer, skinnier beams for the shelter.

When the Wolfeness spoke, it was, at first, in a thoughtful, somewhat skeptical manner.

"I was just thinking, comrade... ...usually, you... well, you take every opportunity to scold us," the female said, before quickly growing self-conscious, submissive--feminine--and worried about receiving a harsher, more deserved scolding, "...it is just a thought, comrade alpha! There is no need to scold, Matvei, please, it will not happen again..."

The female was used to her pleas being met with more harsh words, or, at times, fists or blunt "teaching instruments". And yet, no matter what, it was her nature to try to plead, no matter how much she knew it was useless--the way her ears flattened in resignation was proof of this. The science of Anastasia's nature always amazed and saddened her. She was only a female, only a Wolfeness... the weakest link in what would otherwise by an unbreakable chain.

Matvei spoke, a few moments later, in a somewhat bemused tone.

"Anastasia, you are a doctor, a psychologist... tell me, why would I like to do that?" the alpha said.

He sank his axe down into the log one last time, then turned to face the Wolfeness.

"I am not a cruel Wolfen, you know this," he said, canting his head slightly, his blue eyes meeting the female's green orbs, "...perhaps not. Forgive me, little Ana. I cannot expect you to understand the burden of the alpha."

With that, Matvei got back to work, hacking and chopping up the tough pine wood. They'd need plenty to build a shelter and provide fuel for a fire that would last them all night.

Anastasia was silent for a moment. That was a fair point, she thought, as she loaded her arms with wood, the trainers had always been the harshest towards Matvei. Any mistake made by him would be punished instantly and severely; it was not as if one of the others had made a minor transgression and had a chance of being treated mercifully.

"...I am sorry, comrade Matvei..." the Wolfeness said after a moment, "you are right, I... do not understand. But I think I am beginning to," she said, ears flattening, slightly, as her alpha continued his work, not acknowledging her words in the slightest.

The female paused, thought, then continued.

"You were harsh... in front of the trainers, because that was their leadership style. But now that we are away from the trainers, your true leadership style is beginning to show, yes? ...That would make sense, comrade Matvei, because it would explain why I am not being scolded even as I speak..."

Anastasia blushed, shutting up. She hadn't meant to speak that much out of turn...

The blue eyed Wolfen continued his work for a second, then turned his head to face Anastasia with a somewhat satisfied, approving expression that made the Wolfeness's cheeks take on just the most subtle red tinge.

"As the Americans might say... you have hit the nail on the head, comrade. Now come... get back to work."

It was an order, but to Anastasia's ears, it didn't sound like one. The warmth in her alpha's voice was obvious, and Anastasia found herself eager to do what she could to help her pack, her comrades, her brothers... and her mate. The Wolfeness and her alpha worked together to chop up the fallen tree. There wasn't any conversation to speak of--the work was spent in comradely silence, each Wolfen enjoyed the company of the other without ruining it with meaningless chatter.

Four paws made the work easy, and the tree was broken down into chunks of manageable wood rather quickly. It would take several trips back and forth to get all the firewood and structural bracings to the rendezvous point, but neither Matvei nor Anastasia minded--their eyes met, and, for once, the Wolfeness felt none of the slight fear that she always had whenever her alpha had looked at her for the past few months. She was apart from Alexei, her mate... but she was with Matvei, her pack-brother and alpha.

She was safe.

"Comrade... how am I supposed to get something to eat when the prey can hear us coming from a mile off?"

Even Sergei would never have dared do this in the presence of the trainers. Singing was an activity that was _greatly_frowned upon by the humans, and the Wolven only learned a few old Russian songs in their classes about the culture of the great Soviet nation.

Alexei's ears were flattened, but he didn't say anything. Sergei's distinctive, low-pitched voice rolled from his maw, the age-old lyrics he sang echoing and rebounding off of the tall trees of the Alaskan wilderness.

Finally, however, the song finished. With a laugh, the technician Wolfen stopped, walked once around a tree, and pulled out a long, sharp knife. The tree he'd come to was old, very old, and its dry, cracked bark would make ideal tinder. Many of its needles were tan and dead, too--perfect firemaking material.

"Alexei, I wish you'd sing with me," the brown eyed male said, beginning to scrape long, thin stripes of bark off the tree, "but I suppose we all have fun in our own ways. Do you have a secret hobby, comrade?"

The gray eyed Wolfen shook his head quickly, a flash of sudden desperation appearing on it--the technician's words made him think about poor Afansi...

"Oi, calm down, comrade! It was just a joke," the brown eyed Wolfen said, eyes narrowing as he tilted his head slightly, "yeesh..."

Alexei fidgeted slightly, but rather dumbly stood still, waiting to be told what to do. Sergei grinned at his pack-brother, sliced off one final strip of bark, then got up and kneaded his chest with a fisted paw.

"You forget, comrade, that you have a job to do, no? That you are supposed to, as the Americans say, bring home the pork chop?" Sergei grinned. (note: I know that's not the actual expression)

Alexei yipped quietly as he suddenly remembered that, indeed, he was suppose to catch something for his pack-mates and him to eat. He instantly dashed off, but paused, long enough to turn back to Sergei.

"Thank you for reminding me, comrade! I'll be back very soon, I promise!" he called, before dashing away again; quickly, but, paradoxically, quietly.

"Remember, comrade, don't go too far--" Sergei tried to say, but it was too late--his taller pack-brother was already out of sight and inaudible.

The technician Wolfen sighed through his nose, then pulled off his rifle. He look upwards, then tossed the Kalashnikov into the air, managing to land it on two branches that were close together--good. His rucksack was the next to go, but it was too heavy to through, for him, anyway, so he left it on the ground.

Wolven were not built for tree-climbing, but they still had to learn to do it. And this was one of the very few physical feats that Alexei was not the best at by far. Sergei was the best tree-climber of the pack, barely trailed by Anastasia, then Matvei and Alexei.

The Wolfen formed his paws into rough cups, aiming his blunt, thick claws outwards. He positioned himself at the base of the tree, the collar of his uniform almost touching its bark. Then, with a burst of effort, the brown eyed male jumped up, and used his thick, rubber-soled boots as well as his claws to clamber up about twenty feet. Here, the branches were thick--perfect for a simple roof. And so, humming another old folk song to himself, keeping his rifle close at paw, Sergei pulled out his knife, and began to saw off parts of the tree...

Alexei had been quick. He hadn't needed to be--he was fast and strong and seven feet tall, and he was born and raised to fight. But he was quick because he loathed the idea of making a living being suffer. Even when he'd mercy-killed poor Afansi, he'd spent hours crying over the poor kitten's body, cradling the lifeless corpse in his paws--the paws of a killer.

He'd studied human anatomy fairly thoroughly, and had only glanced over anatomical sketches of other animals. But one thing he knew--through intuition and instinct--was that the neck was a perfect target.

The Wolfen had been careful to quietly pad up to his prey, getting to within twenty feet of it. This was not the hunting style of a wolf, but the Wolven had learned their skills from humans. And so even though Alexei felt the remainders of some instinctual confusion at what he was doing, he ambushed his prey.

Exploding out of cover, the weapons specialist had grabbed the caribou's neck in his arms, evading its dangerous antlers. Before the animal could even scream, he'd made use of the bulging muscles that covered his body and wrenched and twisted, until he heard a wet pop and felt the animal go limp in his arms.

He'd paused... then involuntarily shuddered, jumping away from the caribou.

Alexei had looked down at his kill, into its still-open eyes... and then away. He feared death... and yet, he'd just enclosed that infinite, dark embrace around another creature. But slowly, superimposed over the view of the snow-covered forest floor, his comrades, his pack, his kin, his siblings and his closest, his only friends came into view.... Matvei, Sergei, and, of course, beloved Anastasia.

"Maybe," the tallest Wolfen said, kneeling to tenderly shut his kill's eyes, "maybe it is wrong to kill... but there are times when it is the worse wrong to not kill. The trainers only ever told me to think of targets.. as targets. Not flesh and blood--just targets. But this caribou is not just a target, it has a heart and a mind and a soul like me. It is not merely a target.. but I had to treat it as such for the sake of the lives of myself and my comrades... so there was no wrong in what I did."

Right and wrong were concepts taught only in their most simple, most vague, most useless forms to the Wolven. And yet, each Wolfen, in his or her own way, had a sense of morality, and righteousness. The biggest constant between all of the Wolven's moral senses, of course, was that one should always put the safety and happiness of one's pack first.

It was almost uncanny.

Matvei and Anastasia were just bringing back their last load of wood for the fire and the shelter itself when Alexei and Sergei arrived. The former had his kill--drained of blood and limp--slung over his shoulders, and the latter had an armful of pine branches and needles in one arm, and a pawful of shaved wood for tinder in the other.

The pack met at the clearing Matvei had marked out for them those two hours ago. The snowfall was less now, but it was starting to get dark. The sky was a deep shade of gray, though hues of light--sometimes yellow, sometimes red, sometimes blue--sometimes flickered across it.

"It's called the Aurora Borealis, comrades..." Matvei said almost silently.

The Wolven had met, smiled at each another... then, one by one, had looked skywards as the strange, ethereal display became more and more visible until, finally, it light up the entire sky.

"...Comrade?" Alexei said after a moment, aiming his long, wolfish muzzle down at his alpha, canting his head, "what causes it?"

A smile light up Matvei's lips for a second, and he faced Alexei, as Anastasia and Sergei continued to be mystified and enthralled by the phenomenon.

"Nobody knows, comrade Alexei. It is one of the world's many mysteries... for now. But I have no doubt that the brilliant scientists of our great country will someday unlock its secrets... among others.

There was a nod of general consent that the pack gave, before all four continued to look up, watching as charged particles bombarded the ionosphere.

Of course, it was Matvei that had to break their awe--he had to, it was his duty.

"So. Come, comrades, let us build our shelter before it gets too cold. It is already getting dark, and supposing there is a storm tonight? No, we must build a shelter right now, when we know we are able to."

At once, the pack sprung into action. They'd practiced building shelters before, and so there was little conscious thought required--it was all muscle memory. Alexei pulled out his knife, and set his kill down a few yards from the rest of the pack, and began to butcher the caribou, preparing it for consumption. Anastasia began to build a fire with a pile of cut-up blocks and chips of wood and the tinder that Sergei had brought. Meanwhile, Sergei and Matvei began to dig a large, fairly deep hole. They unrolled all of the sleeping packs from the pack's backpacks, and set them down. Then, they began to slowly erect a roof, supported by long, sturdy beams of wood, topped with Sergei's more supply, bendy, covering branches.

A full half hour later, the pack was finished its work. Matvei tested out the roof by nudging it, leaning against it, and dropping a pawful of snow on it--it held, and would hold against any amount of snow the coming night would give them. Sergei packed the structural beams into the snow more snugly, just in case. Alexei wiped his bloodied paws against the snow, then looked around guiltily before licking them clean. The tallest Wolfen then put his gloves back on, and then looked to Anastasia. The Wolfeness had pulled out a pan from her pack--useless for gourmet cooking, but it would spread the heat of the fire over all of the meat, making it safe for the Wolven to eat.

Anastasia blushed slightly as Alexei set the meat on the pan, meeting his eye. The weapons expert canted his head slightly, then favored her with a smile that warmed her heart. The color Alexei's gray eyes could be described as cold, but whenever he set them on the Wolfeness's, they were warm.

Sergei sat down against a tree, as Matvei pulled out a map, a pair of binoculars, and a compass, muttering to himself as he tried to figure out where exactly his pack was. Alexei sat down next to Anastasia, as the Wolfeness tended to the food, and when no one was looking, placed a paw on her shoulder.

The green eyed female turned, and gave her inky black hair a slight shake, so that she could face her mate, and meaningfully nuzzle his fingers, before he had to take his paw back, in case Sergei or Matvei turned to look.

A moment passed. The fire crackled and snapped and hissed under the cooking meat--it was almost ready for Wolven consumption. Then, suddenly, Matvei spoke.

"Ana, comrade," he said, turning to face the Wolfeness, "you have that bag that I gave you, yes?" the alpha asked, and, at Anastasia's nod, continued, "...may I have it?"

The Wolfeness cocked her head, but nodded, and rummaged around in his backpack for a moment, then pulled out the brown paper bag. She sniffed at it, once, as she handed it to Matvei, wondering what it held.

Alexei and Sergei looked over as well, ears erect. This bag, it was clearly contraband... so, surely, it must be very, very, important.

The alpha realized that the eyes of the whole pack were on him, and grinned. He then withdrew a few canisters from it, as well as a few flat, rectangular bars, wrapped in newspaper.

"Spices, comrades. Spices and chocolate. The meat is half-cooked right now... if we add in just a little spice, it will be delicious... and it will conserve the spice itself," Matvei said.

The alpha kept one canister in his paw, stowing the rest, and moved over to sit next to the cooking meat. He wetted it with some snow that quickly melted into water, and then rubbed the spice into it, taking advantage of his gloves--they insulated his paws from the cold as well as the heat.

"...Matvei, comrade?" Alexei said, looking from the bag to his alpha, who made a murring, monosyllabic sound of acknowledgment, "...you got these spices how?"

Matvei didn't answer immediately, but Sergei grinned.

"By stealing them, little Alexei," the technician said, "I assisted him, though comrade Matvei did not know it--oh, yes, comrade, I did," Sergei said, glancing at the way his alpha's ears perked up, "I saw him sneaking into the kitchen, and followed. When he began to take the spices, a trainer approached. I distracted the trainer, and gave Matvei time to escape. But the chocolate... comrade alpha, I do not know how you obtained that."

Matvei looked up, having finished rubbing the spice into the meat, and grinned from under his balaclava.

"The General gave it to me. He said to think of it as his apology for being with us for only such a short time, and then sending us on such a difficult mission. Nice of him, yes?"

The pack nodded. But, a moment later, Alexei spoke, in a guilty, shy tone.

"...Comrade Matvei...? Chocolate, it is... it is what?"

Sergei was about to laugh, but caught himself. Ana cocked her head; surely, her mate did not have such a strange sense of humor? But no--she shortly came to the same conclusion as Sergei. Matvei's eyes narrowed as he looked at his tallest pack-brother, then nodded.

"Ah, little Alexei... I understand. The rest of us, we had it once--two years back. We were on a practice mission; a combat mission. You were not with us; we were told that you were doing some training by yourself, and that the Wolven Pack had to learn to fight without its dedicated specialist. I believe that, in fact, you were either receiving some drug treatment or recovering from the same, comrade... but I digress. We fought for two hard days... many rubber bullets were fired, and the trainers showed us no mercy whatsoever. However, at the end, we took one last mock-fortress..."

"It seemed that the trainers expected us to fail--but you see, comrade Alexei, though we had grave disadvantages, both in terms of numbers, arms, and the fact that they were on the defense... we won. We did not even suffer one casualty, and I believe that we downed... what was it, comrades? Fifty? ...yes, that's about it... fifty. We downed fifty of them, little Alexei, without suffering a single casualty. If only you were with us, comrade," Matvei laughed, "we would really have... I think the saying goes, we would have kicked some serious ass."

Ana blushed at her alpha's language choice; Alexei too seemed a bit unsettled by it. Sergei offered Matvei only a grin, before the technician rested farther back against the tree, using his gloved paws as a pillow, resting one knee on the other in a completely lazy posture.

"Comrade... I am sure that we do not have much chocolate, and that we must ration what we do have very, very carefully. But, perhaps... to make up for all those long periods comrade Alexei spent in the hospital without us, his pack-mates, and to make up for the chocolate that we tasted that he did not... perhaps, just tonight... we could give him four shares instead of only one."

Alexei's eyes widened, and, beneath his balaclava, his dark facial fur took on a deep, red hue. The weapons expert whimpered inaudibly, shaking his head; he didn't want to be pitied...

Matvei had been looking down, but held up a paw to silence his tallest pack-brother. Then, the blue eyed Wolfen alpha looked up, from Alexei, to Sergei, and then to Anastasia.

"Sergei, comrade, I like your intentions... but I cannot force anyone to give up his or her chocolate. Not even for Alexei, comrade... I cannot. So--here is what we'll do. If you wish... you may give up your share of chocolate for tonight, and allow Alexei to have it..."

"If you wish to participate in this... raise your right paw."

Sergei rolled his eyes slightly, and, of course, raised his paw--it was his idea, he would, of course, give up his chocolate for Alexei. Anastasia didn't hesitate as she held her paw up, her green, almond-shaped eyes drifting into her mate's for a second. Alexei squirmed, looking down, how could he accept such a gift...?

"Well... it appears that the vote was pointless," said the familiar, firm, but kind voice of Matvei, "and so we see how useless democracy is."

Alexei looked over at his blue eyed brother, eyes widening, jaw dropping a few degrees. The alpha's paw was in the air, and he held it there with just as much enthusiasm, just as much compassion, just as much... love... as his dear mate. And then, the weapons expert understood: though Anastasia and he were mates... the relationship between alpha and any other member of the pack was just as intimate and just as powerful.

Alexei, Matvei, Sergei and Anastasia shared no blood... and yet, it appeared, some bonds were stronger than blood. From the constant, uplifting grinning and joking that Sergei always provided, to the sometimes harsh but always well-meaning commands Matvei barked out to keep his pack alive, to the medicine Anastasia carried for Alexei's body as well as his soul... it was obvious, suddenly, that never once in his life had he really been alone.

Matvei had cut open one parcel with his knife--differentiated from the knives the rest of the pack carried only by the two characters etched into its handle: his initials in Russian, M.T. Instantly, four cold, wet, masked noses began to twitch as the delicious scent wafted through the frigid air, but none licked their lips or moved: they knew that today, all the chocolate was for their little Alexei.

The tallest Wolfen's long, plumey tail wagged behind him. Even under his goggles, the weapons specialist's wide eyes--as dark as his charcoal-colored fur--were visible, and Anastasia had to stifle a giggle with a gloved paw.

Sergei just smiled widely, and sat down, followed, after a moment, by the Wolfeness, who looked up at her secret mate, as their alpha approached him, holding four small squares of pocket in his outstretched paw.

Alexei pulled down his balaclava with trembling paws, then cupped his paws in front of him meekly. Matvei smiled, but in the mark of an alpha that led with compassion and not force or intimidation, when possible, very carefully, very respectfully, very affectionately pressed the chocolate into Alexei's paws, cupping the larger male's paws in his own gloved appendages for a brief second.

"Comrade... do treasure our gift to you, yes? ...Eat it slowly, little Alexei. Let it melt in your mouth, do not crunch it..."

Matvei took a step back, then sat down, arms wrapped around his knees, next to Sergei. Blue, green, and hazel eyes all were centered on Alexei. The tall Wolfen gave a low, quiet murr, as he brought the chocolate to his snout, his powerful nose breathing in its delicious aroma.

His pack-siblings looked on as the dark-furred male slowly tilted his head back, pouring the chocolate pieces into his maw, biting slightly to make sure none fell. Closing his eyes, Alexei licked his glove, and stood completely, absolutely still.

Snow billowed down, foreshadowing the weather of the night ahead. The sky was darkening even more, almost into a pitch black only barely offset by reflected light from the snowy ground. Frost began to collect at Alexei's exposed muzzle, even as he gently chewed, the melting chocolate coating his tongue. The Wolfen had never, ever had something so marvelous. The smooth, milky texture of the treat made him murr deep in his throat. Alexei slowly, gently licked the roof of his mouth, lapping away a few stray drops of melted chocolate, as he swallowed a few times, eyes still closed, lips twisted into a brilliant smile. He let out a series of deep, rumbling murrs, and when his slate-gray eyes opened several moments later, they met three wide, heartfelt smiles, visible even underneath the cloth of their masks.

The tallest Wolfen smiled widely, and sat down next to his pack. Words failed him, but then, he wasn't a very social being. But the intense happiness and affection in his eyes said more than words could, and the other Wolven were touched. Matvei reached out, eventually, and ruffled the weapons expert's headfur slightly. The blue eyed Wolfen grinned, before steeling his expression slightly, then giving up, and grinning some more.

Anastasia caught sight of that, and the psychologist in her was interested. The alpha had always been taught to be a harsh, dominant leader, and, in general, he was. But there were always irregularities; when Matvei had demanded, had gotten on his knees and begged, even, that Alexei not be put through yet another drug test, or when he stole spices for the sake of his comrades--an action that was, practically, meaningless, but an action whose intentions spoke volumes about the character of the Wolfen that did it. The Wolfeness made brief eye contact with Alexei, and she smiled again, her heart warm at the contentment on his face.

A soft, low, rhythmic hum broke the silence, and the pack looked over to see that its technician had taken the pan off the fire, and had set it on the ground, allowing it to cool. The hazel eyed Wolfen glanced up, and grinned once.

"It's finished. And get a whiff of it, comrades... delicious."

Sergei waved a paw over the cooling meal, wafting some of its odor towards the rest of the pack. Three noses twitched, and then three tails began to wag anxiously; indeed, it did smell delicious. Matvei's spices had done their job.

Anastasia pulled out a small tin, and began to melt, then boil snow, making clean, drinkable water for the pack. Alexei made to get out utensils and plates, but, after some undetectable hesitation, Matvei reached out, put a paw on his pack-brother's shoulder, and shook his head. Tonight, they would eat with their paws.

Now, it really was getting dark, and after Anastasia had made water, Matvei had to sigh to himself, and extinguish the fire with the assistance of Alexei: the two Wolven shoveled snow onto it until it was completely out; they couldn't take the chance of it being spotted by American aircraft.

Looking skyward, Matvei saw that it was pitch black, and nodded, looking at his watch. The alpha sat down against a tree, as Sergei began to testingly tap at the meat with a bare paw, it had almost cooled. Matvei pulled out a map, and glancing from the woods all around him to the stars to the map itself, worked on getting a more accurate reading of their position.

Just as Sergei was about to say that the caribou was read for consumption, Matvei nodded, and looked up at his pack, all smiles.

"We've made great progress these past days, comrades. If we keep going at this speed, we'll be at our destination within two weeks."

Anastasia nodded, and handed out cups of water, blushing slightly as Alexei's paws brushed over hers. The mates made brief eye contact, and the Wolfeness managed to communicate with her male, she hoped, during those few quick seconds: she wanted to have a few private moments with him, soon... perhaps tonight, even.

Sergei took a sip of his water, and, smacking his lips, pulled off his remaining glove. The technician's sliverish snout exhaled a puff of warm breath onto his paws that condensed in the air, creating a soft, grayish overlay against the tall pines of the Alaskan wild before he spoke.

"Come, comrades... food's up."

The pack pulled off their masks and gloves, and set them down in neat piles, before padding over to the meal. Alexei seemed shy, but the other three jumped right in. They held the pan off the ground, and using their paws sometimes, but their muzzles mostly, shared the meat from the same dish, playfully and happily growling at one another.

Matvei, of course, had rights to the best meat, he was the alpha... but the blue eyed Wolfen forced himself to ignore instinct, and allowed everyone to have his or her fair share of the most tender, well-seasoned bits of meat. But something was missing... the Wolven all noticed it at once.

Alexei was innocently watching from a few feet back, almost sadly. His intention was to wait until his pack-brothers and Anastasia were done eating, then nibble on whatever they left behind... but they were ravenous; they hadn't eaten for two full days, like him, and at the rate they were going, he would have to go hungry for that night.

The tallest Wolfen's stomach had growled, and he'd whimpered, wrapping his arms around himself slightly, as if trying to muffle those hungry murrs. But it was too late; the pack had noticed him. Surely, now, they were going to laugh, mock him, and eat the rest of the meat right in front of him...

But Alexei was thinking like he had thought for the majority of his life--in short, he was thinking as if he was the Alexei of three days ago, not the Alexei of today. Today, he knew he was loved, and not just by Anastasia, he was loved by Matvei, and Sergei as well, and, perhaps, his human comrades as well. Still, that important lesson hadn't quite sunk in completely, and mealtime had always been the most close, most intimate part of Wolven life... the part of which Alexei had always excluded himself from, doing extra training, extra firearms practice, or rehabilitation for one drug... or preparation for the next.

"Comrade..."

The voice was soft, gentle, curious, and, slightly, sad.

Alexei's head snapped up, and his eyes widened. Matvei was speaking to him, Anastasia and Sergei were looking at him with cocked heads and pained expressions.

"....Yes... comrade alpha...?" the weapons specialist replied in his raspy, slightly awkward, rarely-used voice.

"Alexei, brother... why do you not join us? This meal... you caught it. And we are a pack... you have a right to anything that we share, comrade. You do," Matvei said.

But the tallest Wolfen just grimaced, subconsciously, and shook his head.

"Matvei, comrade... ...I am not... I am not your brother, comrade. ...And... ...we may be a pack... in name, comrade, but--"

That was as far as he got. Matvei snarled, jumped to his feet, and leaped towards Alexei. Anastasia whimpered once and held out a paw, as if to stop the alpha in his rage and protect her mate, but didn't--couldn't say anything; if she did, they'd be found out for sure. Now, even Sergei didn't smile. Matvei hadn't seriously beaten anyone for some time, now... but that didn't mean that the most effective, most reliable method of teaching was being phased out by the alpha.

The blue eyed Wolfen grabbed Alexei's lapel, and yanked downwards, hard, his face the epitome of anger. The combat expert yipped in pain, slightly, but didn't dare to resist, it wasn't in his nature. What was in his nature was submission. The Wolfen's gray eyes darted around to the side, refusing to look at Matvei, though, even now, Alexei was quaking in fear.

"Alexei--ALEXEI!" Matvei yelled, his voice echoing through the forest, rebounding off the tough bark of its tall trees, "look at me, comrade... LOOK AT ME!" he snarled, and, out of fear, the tallest Wolfen met his alpha's eyes, his own eyes showing nothing but terror now, "Alexei... you are as much a part of this pack, of this family, as I am... and you are my brother... YOU ARE MY BROTHER!"

The blue eyed male pressed his snout right against Alexei's, his sharp, silverish fangs snapping and flashing just in front of the weapons expert's face.

"Have you learned nothing over these years, comrade? Nothing at all? Are you as stupid as your abysmal scores on our tests suggest? No--ALEXEI, DO NOT LOOK AWAY!" Matvei yelled again, then panted.

A pause.

The alpha growled quietly, then louder, then louder still, before he suddenly threw Alexei to the ground, so that the tallest Wolfen landed on his palms and his rump, forced to stare up at the raging Wolfen.

"I know you have not spent as much time with us as you should have, comrade, and it pains me that this is so," Matvei said, pacing back and forth, lips still twisted into a snarl, "but Alexei, your isolation was, sometimes, of your own making. How many times have I asked you to join me for a walk? How many times have I offered to get you out of extra training so that you could join us for a meal? How many times--HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I PUT MY LIFE ON THE LINE, COMRADE, SO THAT YOU DIDN'T HAVE TO?!"

Matvei froze in his tracks, and glared at Alexei. Still, the gray eyed Wolfen could do nothing but open his maw, and let out a quiet, pathetic whimper. Matvei swore, then turned around, and, after crossing his arms, gripping his shirt with his paws, bared his back.

Across it, under the silver and gray-furred male's back, but still easily visible, were God knew how many cuts, abrasions... signals of terrible, _cruel_beatings, the likes of which no other Wolfen had seen or experienced.

Face hot, Matvei pulled his shirt back down, shivering; it was still freezing cold.

"More times than you, or Anastasia, or Sergei know, comrade, I have stepped out of line. I have demanded, begged--for your sake, Alexei--and yours, Ana, and yours, Sergei," the alpha said, turning on his heel to glare at the rest of the pack, "I have pleaded with the trainers a dozen times to try to stop them from testing out some new drug on you. I have been successful, once or twice; other times, I have not. For you, Anastasia, I have been beaten--I asked, three years back, if you might have the day off. It was your first heat, comrade, do you recall? And for you, Sergei--you remember when you failed to crack an encryption, only two months back? The trainers were going to give you a beating so severe that you would never have been able to come on this mission... I took that beating for you, comrade... I did."

Breathing hard, fists clenched, Matvei glared at his pack, one final time... then suddenly sat down, not meeting any of their eyes. When he spoke, it was in a resigned, morose tone.

"Alexei... eat the meat. I am your alpha... it is all I can give you, comrade. Eat it... please."

The tallest Wolfen had been still on the ground for the past few moments. Another minute of silence passed, in which the freezing darkness of the Alaskan wilderness pressed down on the Wolven.

Then, quietly, Alexei stood. Walking, he made his way to the pan, and picked it up... then towards Matvei. Sadly, he took a few bites.... then offered a piece of meat to the alpha.

Matvei just growled, and looked away, cupping his paws around his maw, before blowing a breath of heat into it.

Alexei twitched slightly, and sat back, setting the food in between them.

"Comrade Matvei...?" he said eventually, and, more out of habit than anything else, Matvei made a grunting sound of assent, "I... am not an orator. So, I don't know how to say this in a better way, comrade... but thank you."

"Thank you, comrade... for the beatings you took for my sake, for... for all the things you wish you could give us, but cannot... for all the struggles that you have gone through that we don't know of. Thank you, Matvei, my comrade, my alpha... thank you... brother."

The blue eyed Wolfen was silent for a moment... then scoffed. He looked at the larger Wolfen, and idly reached out, taking a small sliver of flesh into his paw, and calmly ate it, as silence and tension thickened in the air.

"...And you say you are not an orator."

When Matvei turned his head back to face Alexei, snow somewhat blurred the combat expert's vision. And yet, he was almost entirely certain of something impossible, something... crazy. Matvei was a harsh, tough alpha, but, apparently, also a caring and compassionate alpha. And yet... no. His icy, hard blue eyes could never have been softened with wetness. Never.

Snow really was coming down now; at the rate that it was, by morning, another two or three inches would be on the ground. After everyone had finished eating--Matvei made sure that each member of his pack got his or her fair share with a steely eye--the Wolven had curled up under the shelter, leaving their backpacks and weapons outside, covered under some tarp to hide them.

Matvei and Alexei, being the toughest and largest Wolven, were at the edges of the shelter. In between them were Anastasia and Sergei. At first, it was awkward for the pack: they'd never been allowed to sleep so close together, not since they were pups. At first, several centimeters buffered each Wolfen. Then, just a few centimeters. And then, the Wolven were all huddled up, murring quietly, warmed by their own body heat.

Alexei and Anastasia ended up resting the way they had just a few days ago--when, in the hallway, she'd found that her tall pack-brother wasn't just a mindless, distant combat expert; when he'd found out that Anastasia wasn't just a brilliant and talented doctor, but a soft, caring, loving female.

Neither mate slept. Smiles touched their faces, but they kept their eyes shut--it was vital that they did not alert Matvei or Sergei to the fact that they were still awake, otherwise they'd never be able to sneak off together.

Finally, when the quiet, contented snores of the technician and the alpha became constant and rhythmic, Anastasia turned her head to the side, slightly, and whispered so silently that her voice was nearly inaudible in the sound of a thousand soft snowflakes hitting the ground.

"Alexei... are you awake, comrade?" the Wolfeness breathed.

Rather than replying in words, the weapons expert wrapped his arms around Ana a little more, cuddling her, and rubbed his snout against her cheek. Ana blushed, and spoke again.

"Let us go, Alexei... I want to have some private time with you..." she murmured.

Alexei nodded, slightly, and peered up over the Wolfeness's form to check that Matvei and Sergei were fast asleep--they were. In the shelter, shadows darkened everything, but, Alexei knew, outside, things wouldn't be so different. It was, he deduced, about two o'clock in the morning. The night was at its darkest now.

Carefully, inch by inch, the seven foot plus Wolfen squirmed his way out of the shelter, being sure to not touch or disturb his pack-brothers. After a few tense moments, he was out, and shivered, once.

It really was frigid outside; the cold bit him right through his thick clothes. He pulled his gloves on, using his teeth to help him, and then went so far as to don his mask and goggles again. By the time Anastasia was out, he'd picked up his rifle, the Nagant, and handed her a Mak.

"Just in case, comrade," he whispered, as she accepted the weapon, and slid it into a holster.

After she was fully dressed, she tilted her head slightly, motioning for Alexei to follow. And, obediently, the male did. The night air continued to nip at the mates, but now that they'd gotten their blood flowing, it wasn't as bad. Looking upwards, they caught occasional flashes of the Aurora Borealis. Snow fluttered down all around them, settling onto the dark sides of the ubiquitous pine trees of the raw Alaskan wild. All the snow made things look fuzzy, to the Wolven; visibility was down to no more than a hundred feet.

Together, silently, the two made their way through the forest, until they were perhaps two hundred feet from the shelter. Then, all at once, Anastasia stopped, turned, and slid into Alexei's arms.

Needless to say, the male was surprised, but happily so. The green eyed female giggled through her mask as his tough chest vibrated with his murrs, and nuzzled him, once. Slowly, the male slung his rifle over his back, and wrapped those thick, muscled arms of his around her.

Suddenly, things didn't seem as cold.

Eventually, the Wolfeness reached up, and stroked Alexei's face, through his mask, with her gloved paw. The male murred, and smiled, a smile visible under his mask, and rubbed Anastasia's lower back, allowing her to pull off his mask and goggles.

It was frigid, but Alexei's dark, thick fur allowed him to bear the cold, for a time, anyway. Ana reahced up to her own mask, but the male placed a worried paw on hers, his expression concerned.

"Comrade..." he murmured, "it's very, very cold. You don't need to do this..."

Anastasia just smiled, and pulled free her goggles, then her mask, so that that lovely mess of silky, black hair spilled down, coming to rest on her shoulders. Alexei murred quietly, and as snow began to dust that lovely, soft, silky mane, he stroked his mate, running his fingers, his paws, through her inky, dark hair.

Ana's eye closed, and she tilted her head, resting her cheek against her male's powerful, but gentle paw, pulling herself a little closer to him. She looked up, and her bright, green orbs met his gunmetal irises. Snow was coating both Wolven; their faces and heads were bare. And yet, their noses and ears didn't go numb--their physiology didn't allow for frostbite.

Alexei's paw stroked his mate's back, but he didn't have to pull her any closer: she was already pressed, gently, against his chest. The female blushed, and hugged her male, nuzzling his muscular chest.

"Alexei... comrade. The chocolate, the meat... Matvei..." she said, then blushed; realizing how little sense she was making.

Of course, her mate didn't laugh, or even smile--his ears remained perked up, his eyes remained intent, as he waited for Anastasia to put her thoughts into words.

"I learn more and more about you every day, Alexei, comrade, you're.. fascinating. And I do not say that just because I am a doctor. To watch you grow so much in such little time... it's truly marvelous. ...There is an expression, comrade... it makes my heart sing... to watch you grow. You, watching you, comrade... ...you make my heart sing, Alexei."

The male's cheeks were crimson red under his fur. A frigid zephyr ruffled the Wolfen's thick, coarse fur, and he adjusted his stance, protecting his mate from the icy blast. Snow collected on Alexei's ruff, and Ana giggled and reached up, gently stroking her mate, brushing the snow out of his fur.

"And you say that you are not a poet," the male whispered, eyes closing, as he nuzzled his mate's soft, padded paw, trapping it between his cheek and shoulder.

Green eyes met gray again, for a moment. Then, Alexei leaned down, Anastasia stood up as tall as she could. Green eyes held gray, and then, the mates' lips touched.

At first, the kissing was as tentative and testing as it had been their first time. But, quickly, the Wolfeness realized how much better Alexei had gotten at it... how much more pleasuring his lips felt against her's.

"It could be that, or it could be that I've wanted to kiss him for some time now... regardless..."

Anastasia let out a quiet, whimpering moan, even as her kisses deepened. Alexei's arms were wrapped around her rather tightly now, his muscles flexing beneath his clothing, pressing her small, precious form against his tough, protective frame. Snow fell... all around the Wolven. Now, it seemed, even Mother Nature would not interfere with their much-needed intimacy.

It was cold. Very cold. It was so cold that despite the fires burning in their hearts, the Wolven could not disrobe to give themselves to each another fully.

"He will be content if we only kiss... but I..."

The Wolfness let out another quiet moan, knowing that she'd never be able to stop with just kissing Alexei. There had to be something she could do for him...

Inspiration struck the Wolfeness. Yes, there was something she could do for him. Their faces were not greatly harmed by the cold, so, what she had planned would be safe for her and her mate. And, she hoped, it would be pleasuring for him as well.

Slowly, almost reluctantly, Anastasia began to draw away from Alexei. The weapons expert knew that he hadn't upset his mate, and that comforted him. And yet, that was all he knew. What was she doing...?

Ana's young, curved form wriggled against her mate's rigid, unyielding muscle. She murred, quietly, nuzzling his chest, his belly, licking and kissing his uniform in tender love. The little Wolfeness lowered herself down to her knees, blushing, and rubbed her soft, padded paws against Alexei's hips and lower back. Then, she nuzzled her mate's crotch... she was so obviously submissive, and yet, Alexei had never, _ever_done anything to show that he might even consider the possibility of taking advantage of her. That's why, though nuzzling her mate's most private area was a submissive act, it was not demeaning for the Wolfeness.

Her mate, however, seemed to blush, and placed his paw on the female's head. He shifted awkwardly, fidgeting, and, running his fingers through the inky black pool that was his mate's hair, brought his paw under her chin, and used it to angle Ana's snout upwards, so that she faced him.

"Comrade... you do not need to be so..." Alexei's voice trailed off; he didn't have the vocabulary to explain that he loved Anastasia as an equal: he did not want to be above her in their relationship, not at all.

But the Wolfeness just smiled, blushing, and gave her hair a slight toss, so that it flowed down her back. Then, she used her dexterous digits to undo the button, then the zip, of her pack-brother's pants. The tough, somewhat rough cloth was peeled away, exposing Alexei to the frigid, biting air of the Alaskan night. His dark fur shifted in the subzero breeze, and he had to concentrate not to shiver.

But he wasn't cold for long. Anastasia began to rub her mate's exposed fur with her paws, murring quietly as she did. She blushed, feeling a bit intimidated at the size of her mate's member. It twitched, slightly, in the frigid air, pulsating, until she gently, carefully wrapped her paw around it.

Alexei murred deeply, and quietly. Anastasia felt a little more confident due to that unspoken cue, and sat forward a little, blushing, and licked her lips. Her lighter fur was ruffled by a sudden zephyr from the west, illuminating the blush under her thick, but soft and plush fur. Alexei's teeth chattered once, reminding the Wolfeness that she had to pleasure her mate, while keeping him from getting too cold. This would be difficult... but she was confident of herself. She could do it.

Anastasia's feminine maw slowly parted, as she stroked her soft paw up and down the base of her male's thick member. Alexei whined quietly, even the beginnings of a pawjob from his mate made him so, _so_aroused that it took a great deal of effort to not let precum dribble from his cock's tip. Slowly, however, wet heat and gentle pressure enveloped his member, protecting it from the cold. The weapons expert looked down and murred quietly.

One of Alexei's paws was on Anastasia's head, gently stroking her hair from time to time. The other was on his own hip, mostly by default; he did not know what else to do with it. The male watched, still murring, as his mate gently stroked the base of his erection, testingly, gently suckling at the other half of his member.

Eventually, Anastasia's confidence grew slightly, and as a few stray flakes of snow drifted towards her and her Alexei, she reached up with her free paw, and gently caressed the male's furred balls, warming them.

Careful to be extremely gentle, the Wolfeness stroked and rubbed his large orbs, murring deep in her throat, vibrating his entire member. Alexei blushed, and yet, his dark fur was still as dark as the night sky above him and his female. Anastasia carefully slid off of her mate's hard shaft, and, blushing, suckled gently on one of his balls for a second, kissing his wolfhood lovingly.

Then, she was back on his member. Green eyes locked on his, she used her tongue to slather lubricating saliva all over his thick length, swiveling her head around slightly so as to not miss an inch. Alexei let out a long, quiet moan of pleasure, stroking his paw through the Wolfeness's long, soft hair, and rolled his hips slightly, making Ana blush, as his member's thick head rubbed the back of her throat. She didn't gag or cough, though, not at all, and, after a moment, the Wolfeness paused, thinking.

"He seemed to enjoy it when I pressed my nose against him..." she reflected.

And so, closing her eyes submissively, Ana slowly leaned forward, touching her nose against Alexei's groin. Her jaw muscles rippled under her flesh, slightly; and Alexei gave sharp, sporadic pants as the Wolfeness used her lips and her tongue to suck his large, thick member.

Then, the Wolfeness pressed forward, blushing, as she mashed her nose against her mate's groin with a surprising amount of force. Alexei whined loudly at this, and murred, shaking his head automatically to get a few collected flakes of snow off his face.

Anastasia ran a paw over her hair, brushing it out of her face and taking a few flakes of snow out of her vision, as she continued to hold her mate's thick member deep, deep in her maw. Still blushing, she held her breath as long as she could, before backing away, taking in a few deep breaths, panting.

Her curved, silver and gray form had pressed up against Alexei's legs during the process--Anastasia noted this and blushed some more, wiping her lips with a paw, looking to the side, as the doctor inside of her concluded that, doubtlessly, she had submitted to her mate fully and completely: he was now the master of her emotions; her happiness and contentment were now his responsibility to provide.

Alexei gave a quiet, curious woof, cocking his head down at his mate. He ran a paw through her inky hair, as his slate-colored eyes met her green orbs, freezing her more than the snow did, peering right into her soul...

Anastasia remained frozen by her mate's calm, genuine, heartfelt curiosity. It was incredible to her that she was cared for, that she was special, to such a huge, powerful male. Alexei would protect her even if the pack couldn't, she knew... but that wasn't all. He would love her, he would care for her, and he would put her interests before his no matter what. He would love her...

Blushing, Anastasia gave Alexei's large, reddish glans a lick. The male murred quietly, his member twitching in excitement as his mate warmed it back up again. Using both of her soft, smallish paws, the Wolfeness stroked her mate's thick shaft, murring as she gently suckled on the very tip of him.

The occasional cold gust of icy went unnoticed by the mates. Alexei was whining quietly; whimpering, even, as his female lovingly, tenderly, submissively sucked him off. At one point, he ejaculated some. Anastasia used his thick, sticky cum to lube his long shaft, murring, blushing as it coated her paws and lips.

Holding Alexei's cock's head in her lips and looking up at him, the Wolfeness used both of her paws to jerk him off. He was big enough that she could move them at varying frequencies and squeeze, a little, making her mate moan quietly, happily.

Anastasia wriggled her head from side to side, lapping at her mate's hard, thick cochead with her tongue. Her green eyes never left Alexei's, even as the male murred and moaned louder and louder, his hips bucking as, instinctually, he felt his climax approaching.

As snow continued to dust the Wolven, Alexei held out. Seconds passed, then, minutes. But quickly, the weapons expert lost control.

With a feral yip of pleasure, he closed his eyes hard, thrusting his hips forward. Ana blushed, gagging, slightly, as her jaw was forced open. Quickly, she recovered, though, and murred, squeezing on Alexei's member, jerking her paws only a little bit.

The Wolfeness's ears flattened as she felt her male's power cock pulsate in her paws, knowing what was about to happen. And then, as the wind let up, for a moment, so that snow gently sifted down all around the Wolven, her expectations--and desires--were fulfilled.

Alexei's climax was so powerful that he had to muffle himself with a paw to stop Sergei and Matvei from hearing him moan. He heard a loud, close, sloshing sound, and looked down.

By then, Anastasia's cheeks and maw had filled with Alexei's thick, milky cum. Blushing heavily as she backed off his still hard member, the Wolfeness dropped her eyes. She paused, considering what to do, and, for a second, looked up at Alexei.

Their eyes met, and locked, and, suddenly, her course of action became clear.

Anastasia swallowed once, then twice, gulping down her mate's strong seed. She arched her head back, giving her long, silky hair a toss, allowing Alexei to watch as her throat worked.

The male was utterly dumbfounded. On a level that he didn't quite understand, watching Anastasia swallow his semen filled him with a sense of domination--he now understood that, as a male, it was his place to protect and care for his mate no matter what happened to them. But it also filled him with a sense of humility.

"She... loves me so much that she would do this for me. I... I do not deserve it... but she loves me so and shows me it regardless. ...So... as long as I draw breath, as long as there is strength left in my body, I will love her, care for her... and defend her. That is my name, after all... Alexei... defender."

"Alexei..." Anastasia said softly, shaking her mate's head out of the clouds.

Alexei's slate-colored eyes unclouded as he looked at the female; his powerful chest still rising and falling.

"Anastasia, comrade... what is it?"

"Alexei, I am sorry..." the Wolfeness whimpered, and the male stepped forward slightly, instantly, his eyes widening as her sad, apologetic tone reached his ears.

"I... I need you, comrade..." she whispered, looking over her shoulder at the male, "I need you, Alexei..."

He paused, and realized something. When he'd been thinking, working out his place in this budding, secret relationship, Anastasia had leaned forward, resting her forearms against a nearby, tall tree... and dropped her pants.

"I am sorry, comrade... but please, Alexei, I need you... here..." the Wolfeness said, ears flattening.

She moved one paw down, sliding it between her legs, and rubbed, gently, at her hot, wet slit. Beneath her silver-gray fur, she blushed, looking down. She was so weak, so helpless without her mate... she shivered as a gust of wind chilled her, and closed her eyes.

"How can I blame him for refusing... in his eyes, I must appear so perverse, so helpless... I suppose that this will teach me to be less reliant..."

Suddenly, Anastasia's green eyes widened. Two powerful, protective forearms had wrapped, gently, around her waist. Their paws rested on her hips, holding them, slightly. The still unfamiliar, masculine jaw that formed the lower part of Alexei's muzzle rested on her shoulder. The male's jaw muscles rippled as he murred, making Anastasia blush and squirm against him.

"Alexei..."

"Alexei..." she whispered, murring softly, "comrade... thank you..."

"No, Ana, comrade," the male breathed, gently nipping his mate's ear, before licking it and nuzzling her long, soft hair, "thank you..."

The Wolfeness let out an involuntary gasp of pleasure as she felt Alexei's big, hard member's head rub at her slick opening. With a moan, she shifted, spreading her legs a little. Biting her lip and closing her eyes, Anastasia groaned, softly, as Alexei pressed his member into her.

"Comrade... so tight... I am not hurting you?" Alexei moaned softly, squeezing Anastasia gently.

His thick fur acted as a barrier and a blanket for the Wolfeness. He broke the wind for her, and being that his arms were wrapped around her, warmed her, too. Anastasia blushed and nodded vigorously a few times, hugging Alexei's arms.

"No, no, Alexei... I am quite alright, comrade... now please," she whimpered, almost whining as she ground her hips backwards, "please, Alexei... take me..."

The wind, by now, had died down. Snow fluttered all around the two Wolven but did not coat them. Alexei moved too quickly, two powerfully, too gently, too tenderly, too passionately for that. Anastasia did not know how many times her eyes rolled to the back of her head in pleasure. She did not know how many times her slick, warm slit clenched around Alexei's member and she did not know how many times he made her orgasm. She did not know that her paws were clasping his so hard that it hurt, and she did not know that, finally, when Alexei buried his muzzle into her collarbone, muffling his loud groan as he climaxed, one of his semen cells swam up, deep inside the Wolfeness... and achieved its purpose.

All she knew was that, later--how much later, she did not know--she was on all fours and Alexei was still on her. His arms were wrapped around her, protectively, and he had not yet removed his member from her. He seemed reluctant to leave his mate, even though both mates knew they would need all the sleep they could gate, but Anastasia did not mind. All that mattered, then and there, were her and Alexei, and their young, but strong, love...

For Alexei and Ana, it seemed like it had been only moments ago when, together, they had silently crawled back into the shelter and huddled up among their pack-brothers. But, of course, Sergei and especially Matvei were lively and fresh when they awoke.

"Good morning, comrades," the alpha had said, after he'd stretched a little, cracking his neck.

Sergei gave a somewhat lazy murmur of acknowledgement, and yawned, scratching his jaw. Alexei and Ana, though, remained fast asleep. Their quiet snores hissed puffs of moist, warm air into the shelter, and for a moment, Matvei felt the desire to let them sleep in, if only for five minutes.

But, of course, that was impossible. They had a mission to do, and they could not spare even five valuable minutes. The pack had had plenty of time to rest, and so Matvei cleared his throat, his blue eyes hardening before he called, loudly, his voice amplified by the walls and roof of the shelter.

"I said, GOOD MORNING, COMRADES!" he yelled.

Alexei and Ana yelped, loudly, as they jumped to their feet. Both Wolven's heads hit the shelter's ceiling. Anastasia whined a little, rubbing her head, and Alexei murred in protest, apparently unhurt.

Sergei laughed for a few seconds, and playfully, and perhaps unwisely, cuffed Matvei on the shoulder, before heading outside.

"Good morning to you too, comrade alpha."

Matvei glared, a little, at Alexei and Anastasia. His face took on a grim expression, and the dark Wolfen and the Wolfeness whimpered, backing away, as Matvei stalked towards them.

"Laziness, comrades..." he growled, glaring from Alexei to Anastasia and back, "we have trained to never show any sign of it..."

Alexei tried, desperately, to not meet Matvei's eye. Ana was a bit more successful in avoiding the harsh gaze of her alpha, but poor Alexei had crushed himself to the shelter's wall, cowering, whining a few words of apology as Matvei continued to advance, his paws closing into fists.

But then, those two icy, blue eyes softened, and the alpha's fists uncurled. Alexei was a seven and a half foot Wolfen with the largest muscles, strongest bones and best combat skills of the pack... but he was a whimpering, pathetic ball of fur in front of his angry pack-brother, his tail curled up protectively around him. Anastasia's voice escaped her, and all she could do was let out a low moan of sorrow, as Matvei got closer to her mate yet.

Alexei's eyes had closed and his paw had cupped around his face to protective himself from a harsh blow. But when he felt something, it was not the sting of a punch or the dull pain of a kick. It was the gentle stroke of a paw...

Eyes widening, the male looked up. Cool, slate eyes met warm blue orbs, and Matvei smiled, grinning, a little, and ruffled his pack-brother's fur a little harder.

"Do not be such a sleepyhead, comrade. Alright?" Matvei asked, scratching Alexei's ear so that the male murred in delight, canting his head and nodding, slowly, comfort and relief washing over his body.

As if reluctantly, Matvei lowered his paw, stepping away. It occurred to him, vaguely, that such intimate contact would be punished, severely, by the trainers, but it also occurred to him that, perhaps, this was the best way to teach his comrades and to make them the best soldiers of the Soviet nation.

It also occurred to him that, for some reason, it made his insides... warm, in a way, to pet his pack-brother. It made his mind calm and it made him smile without realizing it, and it made him look to Anastasia, for once, without scaring her half to death.

"Do you hear that, little Anastasia? Do not be such a sleepyhead... yes?" he asked, tapping the Wolfeness's nose.

Anastasia blushed and nodded... and, before Matvei could pull his paw away, she gave it the briefest, the lightest of nuzzles. The alpha's smile grew wider at that, and drew away, heading into the freezing outside world a moment later.

Anastasia and Alexei were left alone in the shelter. Both Wolven were smiling, and from the way Alexei looked at his mate, Anastasia knew that he had not misinterpreted her actions. It was true that she and Alexei were mates, but it was also true that that bond of matehood was not the only bond that either of them had. They had each other, but they also both had Matvei and Sergei. In a sense, the Wolven were surrounded by love, they just... had taken until now to realize it.

"Come on, comrades!" Sergei called, peeping his head back into the shelter, grinning, "we are going to move out, soon. Or shall I tell Matvei that you have both dozed off again?"

"No, no, comrade, that is quite alright!" Anastasia said frantically, before growling a little in frustration at the way Sergei laughed.

"Just a joke, little Ana, just a joke. But really," he said seriously, turning from the Wolfeness to Alexei, "it is time to get up, comrades. We have a big day ahead of us, now? So come."

The technician then left the shelter, trusting his pack-mates to be responsible. Anastasia and Alexei shared a glance, and knew that they had to get up. But the mates managed to share a kiss--a quick, brief, tender peck--before standing up outside.

"Wow... it really has come down," Anastasia said quietly.

Indeed, at least two feet of snow had fallen over the past night, coating everything under a thick blanket of whiteness. Alexei squinted, holding up a thick forearm to protect his eyes, before nodding in agreement, and sniffing, heading over to where he'd slaughtered the caribou.

"Yes, Anastasia, comrade... it really has..."

Matvei had uncovered their backpacks and, of course, was pacing around, slightly, muttering incoherently to himself, muzzle buried in a map. Sergei was murring a folk-song to himself as he started another fire to make water and warm up some meat: the frigid night would have killed off any potentially harmful germs in it.

Before they even knew what they were doing, Alexei was stalking around, rifle in paw, to check the area for threats. Anastasia was silently, unobtrusively examining Sergei, Matvei, and then herself for any signs of injury or illness, and when Alexei returned, she took a few more seconds to look into his eyes and smile, knowing that he was alright.

"Alright," Matvei said suddenly, striding towards the small fire Sergei had built.

The entire pack converged and knelt, looking as the alpha used his furred digits to point out their present location, and their destination.

"From what I can tell, comrades, we are here," the blue eyed Wolfen said, indicating a point some one hundred miles northwest of Fairbanks, "and we need to get here..." he sighed, pointing to an area to the east of Vancouver, "as you remember, it is where the General told us to go if things were to go wrong."

For a moment, silence reigned. Even the soft hissing and bubbling of Sergei's cooking meat seemed to diminish.

"Yes, Wolfen Pack... about fifteen hundred miles."

"But comrade Matvei," Alexei said after a moment, "it will take us months to travel that far. And our mission is very important..."

"That's the thing of it, little Alexei," Matvei sighed, glaring at the map, as if trying to intimidate into changing its discouraging facts, "and yet--wait," the alpha said.

Anastasia and Sergei shared a glance, as the weapons expert cocked his head cluelessly. He hadn't spent enough time around his pack brother to know that when Matvei paused like that, it meant that he was working on a plan. Snow distracted the Wolven, for a moment, and Sergei began to pass around the boiled meat, eating at his portion emotionlessly.

"Comrades..." Matvei said, grinning deeply for a moment.

His blue eyes gleamed as they traveled around the faces of the Wolven, as if weighing their worth. Anastasia, Sergei, Alexei... all were strong. All had their slight imperfections, but all were the greatest soldiers of the greatest army to ever march on Earth; the Soviet Red Army. And so, all Matvei saw was potential, and the opportunity to harness it.

"I have a plan..."

The moon's pale, dim light didn't illuminate the ground totally. Shadows everywhere offered plenty of camouflage; and the outskirts of Fairbanks offered plenty of cover from its endless sea of pines, as well as the occasional shed or outhouse.

The Wolven had had no trouble so far.

With their suppressed pistols held at the ready, they moved, cautiously, and silently, along the town's southern edge. Save for Alexei, of course, who used his Nagant as a reconnaissance device as well as a weapon.

The pack crouched, as the weapons expert peered through its scope, his finger well away from the trigger. They were on the side of a gradual hill, and trees all around them rendered them invisible; but it did not hurt to be cautious regardless.

The plan that Matvei had offered was simple. All the pack had to do was observe Fairbanks for a few days to understand patterns in its train system. Following that, they'd board a train as it left town and stow away in a car. Upon nearing Anchorage, they'd dismount, and take the rest of the trip to Seward, a port town, on foot. When they got there, Matvei said, they'd stow away on a southern-bound ship and use it to get as close to Vancouver as possible.

Simple, straightforward; but the slightest glitch or slip-up would expose the Wolven. Worse, the plan had to be thought-up on the go. All intelligence they had was intelligence they had to gather themselves.

In the end, it seemed, there was no real pattern in Fairbanks' trains. The pack had observed the town for a week, risking everything to get within eyesight of it, evading hunters and playing children as they did. Sergei attempted to use long-range audio boosters to listen in on to a railroad operator's office, and, finally, the pack had their opening.

Now, at three AM, they were exploiting that opening.

The meat from Alexei's first caribou had long since ran out, so he'd taken a moose. Its meat was richer and more hardy and there was a lot of it, too. So, weighed down with food and water they'd taken care to collect, the pack was ready to move.

Alexei made a brief, slight gesture with his paw. The conductor had ended his conversation with the train's engineer, and now, was preparing to depart.

Much to the dismay of Fairbanks' citizens, surely, the train's engine began to chuff into life. Alexei lowered his rifle and turned, looking to his alpha grimly.

Both Matvei and Alexei were dissatisfied with their next move. Between the treeline and the train was at least forty yards of open terrain--plenty of time for a casual glance to spot the Wolven. What was worse was that it had snowed, recently, a lot. The fresh snow would preserve their tracks, well, and new snow to cover them could not be expected for a few days.

And yet, these risks had to be taken. The next train might not arrive for, potentially, a few more days. And the more time the pack spent around Fairbanks, the more likely they were to be detected anyway. It seemed that the American government was not as inept as it had seemed: Sergei's eavesdropping had revealed that, several weeks ago, in accordance with the time that they had landed in Alaska, a military communication had warned citizens to be vigilant and on the look-out for oddities that might indicate "unknown enemy combatants".

Even now, the conductor was carrying a rifle. And every other human the pack had come in contact with; or rather, had avoided contact with, had been armed and very cautious. Perhaps the Americans were not so much unlike the Soviets, at least in their willingness to unquestioningly serve the will of their country.

Matvei bared his teeth at his pack, and dared to speak, albeit in a deathly soft, scarcely audible tone.

"All right, comrades... this is it. All we have to do is run to the train and board it. If we are spotted, look to me and I will decide whether to run to the woods or commit and board the train. If one of us cannot get onto the train..." Matvei paused, for a moment, and swallowed, feeling actual, _physical_pain when he spoke again, "then... the rest of us must continue. We will regroup to the east of Vancouver as soon as possible... and if we do not, then I swear to you that I will spend the rest of my life looking for you, my brothers and sister, if I must. Our duty may demand that we leave one of us behind, temporarily... but my duty demands that I never leave any of my pack alone."

A pause, and the train's whistle sounded. It was starting to move.

Matvei turned, sharply, and crouched, preparing to sprint. Struck by his sincerity, the rest of the pack took a second before they got situated, too.

This train was a long one. Perhaps fifty cars filled with coal, lumber, and other goods trailed behind the engine. All that weight would mean that, hopefully, it would take the train some time to gain any real speed. Perhaps things would not be so bad.

"Wait for it, comrades..." Matvei murmured, as the engine passed the Wolven, "steady... steady..."

"Steady..."

"...Go!" the alpha hissed, and, within ten milliseconds of each another, the Wolven began to run.

Alexei was first, of course. As such, it was his job to get a car's door open so that his brothers and mate could get on. For a second, the Wolfen struggled with the latch of a car that smelled of sugar and cinnamon, but then managed to release it.

The weapons expert jumped and pulled himself onto the car's somewhat dirty, dusty ground, eyes widening... the train was moving so fast already. But Alexei's shock lasted only for a second before his training kicked in.

Bracing his dark form against the car's door, the Wolfen let his arm and leg hang off, into the open air. Wind from the speed of the train froze him, ruffling the few bands of fur that his thick clothing bared, but Alexei ignored it.

Matvei was the first to grab hold of Alexei's limbs, and pulled himself into the car without much difficulty. Without even taking a heartbeat to relax, Matvei said a few harsh words of encouragement to Sergei.

The technician had a more difficult time pulling himself onto the train. By now, its chuffing was loud and constant; it had hit maximum speed. Thick plumes of smoke billowed into the air as it roared along. The town was several hundred yards back, by now, so the Wolven males on the train could yell to Anastasia... who was falling behind.

"Come on, comrade, you can do it!" Sergei yelled, without even a trace of playfulness in his voice, "just a little faster, comrade--no, no, come on, comrade, take my paw!"

"Anastasia, come! We are waiting for you, do not leave us!" Matvei called, but it was no use.

The Wolfeness was rapidly becoming exhausted. By now, she had sprinted for a full thousand yards. With so much gear on her back and the lack of a routine sleeping pattern, she was not in her best condition. She had had to run the longest out of all the pack, and it showed.

She was starting to slow...

Whimpering, tears of terror starting to leak from his eyes, Alexei looked back, extending a paw, as if to grip the figure of his mate's rapidly diminishing form.

"Ana..."

Only twenty yards away, Anastasia looked up. Her green eyes, filling with tears of exertion and fear, met Alexei's... and, growling, she began to speed up. It was as if Alexei was lending her some of his strength; that, or the strength Anastasia was being lent was lent to her by love.

Regardless, she closed in on the train, coming to within an agonizing two feet of Sergei's paw.

"NO! JUST A LITTLE CLOSER, COMRADE, DO NOT GIVE UP NOW!" the technician howled, wriggling his paw to try to get it just a little farther back, so that Anastasia could reach it.

But it was no use. The Wolfeness's booted feet continued to kick up snow and etch deep, telltale tracks into the terrain... but she was starting to fall behind again. And no matter how hard she pushed herself, no matter how deeply she looked into her crying, begging mate's eyes... she could not run any faster.

"I am weak..."

Suddenly, a paw gripped the Wolfeness's. But it was not Sergei's.

Matvei had jumped, impossibly, recklessly, throwing himself towards Anastasia. Out of instinct, Sergei and Alexei reacted, pouncing on his lower half and pinning it to the car's ground, thought kicking in seconds later.

"COMRADE, ARE YOU CRAZY? YOU SAID THAT WE MUST LEAVE THOSE THAT FALL BEHIND, BEHIND!" Sergei yelled over the roar of the wind that rushed past him.

"SILENCE, COMRADE! I AM THE ALPHA, I SAY WHO IS LEFT BEHIND AND WHO IS NOT! NOW, PULL ME--ANA, NO!"

The Wolfeness's legs had given out, and she collapsed, her body being dragged alongside the train. Whimpering, she looked up at Matvei, speaking too softly to be heard. And yet, the blue eyed Wolfen, who had known his pack-sister for life, could read her lips... and, in a way, her mind, and her heart.

"Matvei... leave me behind. Let me go," the Wolfeness whimpered, "I am weak..."

"No," the alpha snarled, clinging to Anastasia's paw tighter, as she struggled, giving up all hope and squirming, trying to force Matvei's paw to slip, "I will never let you go, Anastasia, and do not _ever_say that you are weak in my presence. You cannot fall behind, comrade, we need you. Sergei, Alexei, and me... me, comrade. I need you. Do not let go..." Matvei said, and, for the first time in his life, allowed a whimpering, begging tone to enter his voice.

Anastasia blinked... and, slowly, her grip on Matvei's paw tightened. She struggled, growling, and managed to get her footing again, running and ignoring the screams of protest from her thighs. The Wolfeness managed to best the train's speed, by a little, and that was all it took.

Matvei held, tightly, as Alexei and Sergei pulled, seeing that this was their only chance...

Anastasia was yanked aboard the train, and due to the power of Alexei's and Sergei's efforts, the entire pack was thrown against the car's far wall. Without sitting for a second, Matvei stood, walked over, shaking, and slammed the car's door shut.

Light spilled in through the car's barred window, illuminating the other three Wolven. Softly shedding tears, Anastasia wrapped her arms tightly around both Alexei and Sergei. Each Wolfen had wrapped his arms around their sister and was nuzzling her, licking her, as if to make sure that she really was there, with them, alive, in one piece. A moment later, Matvei joined his pack-brothers, laying down on Anastasia's leg, wrapping his arms around her. The alpha rested his head on the Wolfeness's belly, murring in relief, even as Anastasia's arm reached around Sergei's body and gently stroked Matvei's head.

The blue eyed Wolfen looked up, for a moment, and spoke.

"Comrade... you are still here, yes?... and you will not leave us, yes, little Ana?" he whispered, as Alexei nuzzled the Wolfeness's arm roughly, leaving behind streaks of wetness there that had accumulated in his eyes.

Anastasia nodded, and squeezed her pack-brothers gently, sobbing dryly once. A tear fell from her eye, gently splashing down on her shirt.

"Matvei, comrade, I--I am--"

"Shh, shh, comrade, there is nothing to talk about, little Ana... hush..." the alpha said softly, "there is nothing to apologize for and there is nothing to worry about, comrade. We are here, and we are together, and we are not going to go anywhere and we are not going to let you fall behind, yes?"

"So... shh..."

(Sorry for the really, really slow update. I intended to write more, this chapter, but near 20,000 words is a bit much already. Next chapter should see the pack into Canada, and even America. So, review if you like what I've done so far... see you next chapter.

2016 Update: If you are interested in hearing about what was supposed to happen in the following chapter(s) of Project Wolfen, PM me. Other than that, I have no intentions of completing this series, as I have moved on to bigger and better things. PM me for information on those, too!)