Tripdare the Wolf

Once upon a time, there was a pack of wolves in the big forest. They were all the same age, but they had very different personalities. Some were bold and liked to fight. Some were like hyenas, always joking and laughing, playing, and jousting. Some were gluttons who just wanted their next meals. Some were ascetics who gave the big guys their scraps.
One of the wolves was named Tripdare the Wolf. Tripdare the Wolf was a different kind of wolf. Whereas the other wolves were aggressive and always ready to attack, Tripdare was sensitive and reserved, never wanting to offend anyone. It was a mighty challenge, being both sensitive and a wolf, but Tripdare the Wolf was both, and it made life very challenging living in the pack.
The other wolves would tease him, telling him that he wasn’t “man enough” to lead the pack.
“If I know one thing for sure,” said one wolf. “It’s that Tripdare will never lead this pack. He’ll have us getting heeled over by a faun or a doe, slipping across muddy rocks in the rain. We wouldn’t ever get a bite to eat. And I get hungry!”
The other wolves were no different. Many had expressed the belief that they should leave Tripdare the Wolf behind and go on without him. No one seemed to like, much less respect, him, and he often felt out of place.
Tripdare the Wolf knew he didn’t belong, knew that he would never be accepted, but he had nowhere else to go. Being as sensitive as he was, he knew that no other pack would accept him.
One day, the pack of wolves was traveling a path that they hadn’t traveled before. No one knew where they were going or what they would find at the other end of the forest. Forsall, the pack’s leader, was adamant that they should continue going, though the rest of the pack was sluggish.
“Come on, you lily-livered pack of fragilastics!” said Forstall, nodding in the direction of a mountain pass. “We’ve got to make it there before moonrise. Let’s keep going.”
The pack of wolves was reluctant, but they kept moving on. Tripdare the Wolf was thinking. Something was wrong. He didn’t know what, but he felt that they were making a mistake going up this mountain. The terrain was harsh and unforgiving and there were many signs of avalanche. The rocks were sharp, piercing, and there were many thorns strewn across the path.
As they continued, the weather got worse and began to snow. What started as provisional then became torrential. The snow got into everything. One couldn’t even breathe without ingesting the white flakes.
Tripdare the Wolf called out to the leader, “Forstall, we should turn back. There is something wrong. I’m sensing a disturbance.”
“Silence, interloper,” said Forstall, to which the other wolves laughed and hooted.
“I beguile you not, benefactor,” said Tripdare the Wolf, remaining calm. “But this mountain, she is not all one. There are many conflicting personalities.”
“I said silence, interloper!” said Forstall.
That last one stung quite a bit. Tripdare kept following, but at a slower pace. The rest of the pack was together, up ahead, going towards a ridge. Then, suddenly, a lightning bolt struck the mountain high up, above their position.
Tripdare the Wolf saw it, but the others appeared not to. Suddenly, there were many large rocks that fell from higher up on the mountain. An avalanche, as they say. Tripdare could only watch as one giant rock fell, instantly crushing many of his pack, while the rest were pulled off the mountain by gravity and fell to their deaths.
Tripdare the Wolf was dumbstruck. He had no idea what to do, where to go or who to turn to. Just like that, he’d lost the entire pack. But he’d survived, though he’d lost everything. He immediately began to shake as tears came to his eyes.
He stood there for what seemed like forever, thinking of his pack and what he felt about them. What did he feel about them. Suddenly seeing them all die in such a terrible fashion left him without any simple answers or summarizing principles.
No saying he had ever heard could encapsulate the loss, the feeling of utter bewilderment and indeterminant evil that had befallen him. He could move, couldn’t eat, couldn’t go back home, couldn’t do anything that a normal wolf could do.
“I’ve got to survive,” said Tripdare the Wolf. “I’ve got to…got to stand up and move ahead. I’m the last one, the only one left. It’s just me.”
With every ounce of strength within him, he pulled himself off the cold ground and made his way back down the mountain. On the way back, another pack of wolves came to meet him. They were hostile and didn’t trust Tripdare the Wolf. First, they growled, then they barked. Tripdare the Wolf was used to hostility, but this was different. He didn’t know these wolves. They were a strange force, far outside of his realm of familiarity and influence.
“What are you doing here?” said the lead wolf.
“What?” said Tripdare the Wolf.
“I said what are you doing here?” said the lead wolf again, holding his ground, as a bolt of lightning tore through the sky. “Tell me or perish.”
“My pack-“
“Don’t listen to him!” said a voice from behind Tripdare the Wolf.
He looked behind him and saw that it was a wolf from his pack. Tripdare the Wolf knew who he was.
“Pasir,” he said.
“Do not speak to me,” said Pasir.
“What do you mean? You-“
“I said do not speak to me!”
Pasir was covered in his own blood. He also had multiple missing teeth, a missing eye, and one of his four legs was broken.
“What is going on here?” said the lead wolf. “Do you know him?”
“He was supposed to be in our pack,” said Pasir. “He let us go ahead, through the mountain pass, even though there was an avalanche. He let us die!”
Suddenly, all the wolves of the pack surrounded both Tripdare the Wolf and Pasir. He didn’t know what to do, so he began to plead for his life.
“I never meant for this to happen, to either one of us,” said Tripdare the Wolf.

Growling, snarling, and pouncing, the wolves of the other pack then attacked Tripdare the Wolf and Pasir, biting at their faces, backs, and legs. At first Tripdare the Wolf tried to cope, but soon the pain was too great. They both died within minutes.