Chapter 5: Silver Wire

That night I lay awake in my mother's bed and listened to the creek.

Something moved in my chest.

It was low and slow, a stretch I knew from every night of my life before the ford.

My wolf had been silent for five weeks.

I put my hand flat over my breastbone.

"Hello," I whispered, and felt ridiculous.

Something answered, quietly, and went still again.

I didn't sleep.

The next evening, the sun was just touching the ridge when Trudy came in from the porch with her mouth tight.

"There's a truck at the bottom of the camp road," she said. "Four men. They've got spools."

I got into my chair and rolled out onto the porch.

There was no ramp yet, only the plank Trudy had laid over the steps.

I went down it carefully.

Four hunters in Redwater grey stood at the edge of the camp, unloading spools of thin grey wire from the bed of their truck.

I knew that wire.

It was silver, drawn fine, and a wolf who touched it would carry the burn for a month.

Hoyt was already standing in front of them with his arms folded.

"Beta's orders," the lead hunter said. He held up a paper. "This is Redwater's south line. The camp's on it."

"The camp's been here eleven years."

"Then it's been trespassing for eleven years." The hunter shrugged. "We're stringing the creek crossing tonight. Your people can stay on their side."

"Our side," Hoyt said, "is the only side with the well."

"Then dig another."

The hunter pushed past him and stuck a steel stake into the mud.

Behind Hoyt, the camp had come out of its doors. Women, old men, a girl with a baby on her hip. Nobody spoke.

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