After that eventful day we learned that Mallory was mostly right about Fenris. She had a knack for knowing what he wanted. His growth was quick, but so was his intelligence. He was talking within a month, just a few words. He was going out at night to hunt by three months, first with me by his side, then alone. He only had to be told anything once to remember it.

That winter, when he was almost a year old, and almost fully grown, he told us he was thinking about venturing out on his own.

“I want to see if there are any more of my kind out there,” he explained.

“Fenris, we trust you to keep yourself hidden from human eyes, and to hunt only animals, but you’re talking about traveling to places with unknown dangers!”

“I believe I am ready Master Marcus.” His voice was calm and a deep bass already.
And so we let him go, with a couple of nearly bone-crushing hugs, and some tears on Mallory’s part. He flew off toward the moon, his shadow across the face of it etched into our memories.