There was nothing Angel loved more than flying.

The wind in her fur. The gentle ruffle of her feathers, reflecting all the colours under the sun in a brilliant white. The comfortable warmth of the sun's golden rays. When she was up here, not even the wolves on the ground could see her from below. She was completely camoflaged, one with the sky, and in the happiest place she could ever be.

But not today.

Today, she flew with two pups on her back. Both of them were very heavy. That sort of took away from the weightless feeling she adored. As did their immediate mortality and lack of flying ability.

Instead of looping the sun, lost in her own world, Angel was forced to fly unbearably straight and slowly. Her wings flapped stiffly at her sides. She found herself hating the silence more and more, and longing to fill it with some sort of verbal sound, yet she had no idea what to say.

So when the time finally came to curve her flight path downwards, descending into the trees, she physically breathed a relieved sigh.

Pulling her wings in, she slid through the branches, her shoulders tensing as she shifted in an attempt to keep both pups stable. If one of them, the golden one, fell to her death, it might not matter so much. But if the Peltless died... well, according to Dawn, that meant lots of terrible things. Which was why she had to force herself to be very, very careful with him.

In her eagerness to reach the ground, she maybe flew the final few strides a little too fast, which resulted in the grey pup tumbling from her back and into the dry grass below. Shaking her head, she watched him fall as her own paws softly slid into contact with the earth. No harm done. Instead, she just felt a strange interest as she observed his struggles back to a standing position, the Thunderwylf hurrying over to dust him off frantically.

Dawn's words rang in her ears. He will bring us the hope we need. Would he? The instant Angel had laid eyes on the pup, watching him as he howled pitifully, she'd felt nothing but heavy disappointment. From him size, he couldn't be more than twelve moons old, and unusually small even for that. He showed no muscle or extreme intellect. All she saw was a feeble young puppy, probably neglected, with zero skills whatsoever.

You were like that once, her mind protested. He can learn. He can become a fighter, like you did.

Yes, maybe, but the huge war is coming soon, if Dawn is correct, she replied firmly. We need him to be able to save us all from great dangers in the next few moons, at the latest. There isn't time for training.

Flicking her tail in an attempt to cast away her doubts, she stepped over to the smaller wolves. "Welcome," she announced to them, "to the home of the Twilytra. My home."

It did fill her with pride to gaze across at it. The lanterns and the trees. But she was especially proud of the wolves that emerged from those trees, the wolves she called her friends. Each of them held a special place in her heart.

It was Fiammetta that reached them first, her bronze Pelt rippling orange in the dim glow of the flames. She inclined her head briefly to Angel in greeting, before turning her gaze on the pups. Her snout wrinkled in surprise. "Which one is it?"

"Which do you think?" she exclaimed. "The Peltless, of course." A second later, her mind reviewed the response and cringed. It sounded so abrupt, as if she were criticising her friend. Her wings flicked nervously as she fought for something else to say to repair the insult. Fortunately, Fiammetta's attention had already shifted.

"What's your name, then?" she asked the grey pup, bending down so that her snout was in line with his. He stared up at her, looking terrified. Beside him, the gold wolf shifted her forepaws in front of him. It was kind of cute, how she kept trying to defend him. Maybe she was his older sister?

Still, the Peltless moved aside, as if trying to fend for himself. "Thirty-Four," he answered, the quiver in his voice clear.

"And I'm Lexi," the Thunderwylf added, her tone firmer, but still a little scared. Angel knew that tone - it was one of a wolf who was trying to appear strong and brave, yet in reality felt anything but that. She'd used it plenty of times before herself.

Nodding, Fiammetta straightened again. Thirty-Four was about as tall as her foreleg. "It's lovely to meet both of you," she said, her eyes twinkling in a smile. Angel fidgeted on the spot, feeling a pricking jealousy under her fur. Why couldn't she be so effortless in her interactions? Everything social she did just felt awkward and clumsy.

Before she could dwell on the issue any further, however, they were joined by more Twilytra members. Alvis slid out of the undergrowth, his pale tan-yellow chest heaving from his run. He sat down nearby and tilted his head to the side, observing the smaller pup curiously. A few moments later, Morgan followed, shaking the leaves from his own blue-green fur.

It was as if he sucked all the air from the entire grove. Gasping, Angel trained her eyes on the ground, taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm her racing heart. Why did Morgan do this to her? Was this hate? Did the crawling sensation across her spine mean she hated him? Yet... she didn't want to hate him. She wanted to like him just as much as the others. So what made him different?

The real question is, what makes this social thing so hard? she muttered to herself as a further sensation joined those brought on by the Seawylf's entrance. This was a gentler prickling, filled with divine energy. Magical. It brought her eyes up immediately.

The branches parted, and Dawn stepped into the clearing.

Her purple fur, shimmering with regality, seemed alight with moonbeams tonight. Her gaze sparkled silver as she surveyed the two pups. She strode towards them with an air of grace no wolf could ever exceed.

"Here is the one who howled, Dawn, as you requested," Angel proclaimed, if only for something to say. She pointed her claw at Thirty-Four, for absolute clarity. "His numeryc is Thirty-Four." There was no need to mention Lexi. That one wasn't really supposed to be here, and she didn't think Dawn would appreciate the joke circulating Angel's head. Two for the price of one!

For a long while, the Mystwylf examined Thirty-Four. The others remained silent, awaiting her approval, and so Angel did the same. Her claws tapped the dirt anxiously.

Eventually, Dawn spoke. "Pup, how old are you?"

The Peltless shuffled, obviously uncomfortable about the answer. "Nearly eighteen moons." Tendrils of bitterness mingled with the terror in his tone. Angel's eyes widened. So not young. He's just a runt.

Great. A runt is going to save us from certain death-by-war.

Immediately, she internally kicked herself. That was no way to think. She should be trusting the pup, because Dawn said he would be great. And Dawn was never wrong.

"What do you mean, 'the one who howled'? Lexi protested, planting her paws in front of her maybe-brother to shield him from everyone else. "How did you know he was going to howl?" She shook out her golden fur. It wasn't obvious whether the shiver was purposeful or fear-induced.

Twitching her wings, Angel glanced uncomfortably from her to Dawn. Should I explain, or will she?

Thankfully, Dawn saved her from jumping in. "Thunderwylf, your friend is very special," she began, moving closer. Lexi took a hesitant step back, her tail resting against Thirty-Four's flank. "I knew he would howl because the goddess I worship informed me that a special wolf would howl tonight, and it was he who answered the call. Therefore, it is his destiny that shall save us in the times to come."

"What... what destiny?" Thirty-Four's snout poked out from behind Lexi, his blue eyes shining like sapphires in the faded light. Though his words shook and stuttered, his gaze held unbroken as he met eyes with Dawn. Cautiously, Angel crept over to stand beside the Mystwylf, brushing her wing gently against her friend's flank. She felt a little more confident stood here. But still she let Dawn speak in response to the question of the Peltless.

"War is coming, little one. If we are to lose this war, death and destruction will be brought upon all the lands of Sylvera, and all the Wylfven wolves that reside here." Even hearing them for the second time stabbed fear deep into Angel's heart. She shifted closer, pressing into Dawn's side, as she continued to recount the coming future she had heard directly from the goddess herself. "Yet there is hope. Hope that resides, quite fortunately, in yourself."

There was a stunned silence. The Twilytra waited with bated breath, unsure of the pup's reaction. Right now, he appeared mostly confused. "How?" he asked. His voice was a little more steady than last time.

Glancing over, Angel met her friend's gaze. Dawn's moon-silver eyes lingered long enough to send minature sparks zipping along her spine, and she shivered, her whole body alive with otherworldly magic.

"I have spoken with the future goddess, Bhavisha," Dawn continued, tracing her mesmerising gaze back to Thirty-Four. "It was she that told me of this. She described a Peltless wolf, filled with hidden power, who will win this war for us and prevent the devastation promised by our loss. That wolf, Thirty-Four, is you."

The message finally seemed to transmit. The grey pup slumped to the ground, his eyes as wide as huge blue gems. His snout opened, then snapped shut soundlessly. Still standing over him, Lexi shook her head. Angel saw her claws dig deep into the ground, scraping tiny trenches in the dry earth.

"No," she said, still shaking her head as she stared back at Dawn. "No. Bhavisha isn't even real. There's no way you could be predicting the future." Her tail lashed, flashing in the lamps' glow like a golden bolt of lightining. "There's no science to prove that. None."

Narrowing her eyes, Angel glared down at the Thunderwylf. How dare she decline Dawn's prophecy? It was a crime to speak against the prophet of Bhavisha. This newcomer had just broken the laws of the Twilytra, and Angel was ready to tell her so. They had no use for this scientist. It was time to take her back to town and focus on the important pup.

Yet a warning look from their prophet was all it took for her to nod solemnly and back down. Dawn knew best. She would set Lexi straight.

"Thunderwylf," Dawn addressed the pup, calm as always, "you may choose not to believe in what I speak of. But I know this to be true, and if your friend searches inside himself, he will know, too."

All eyes turned on Thirty-Four. It was Lexi that caught his wide-eyed gaze, her expression pleading. She doesn't want it to be true, Angel realised. It goes against everything she's ever known. I know what that's like, she added to herself, remembering.

Slowly, the Peltless nodded. He spoke no words, but something silent passed between him and Lexi. It was enough to force the Thunderwylf to collapse beside her friend, the weight of Dawn's claim finally pressing her down.

For the first time in a short while, Dawn turned around, addressing the gathered Twilytra members. "Let us leave these pups to digest this new knowledge. They will sleep in the forest tonight. Fiammetta, ensure that they are both comfortable." With the final word, she marched away into the trees, past the lamps. Her purple fur vanished into the darkness.

Sighing, Angel obeyed the command. Her own sleeping quarters consisted a particular tree, one with wide boughs and broad leaves, to shelter her from any rain. With a few wing beats, she was slipping into the canopy, white feathers tucking into the position they always did.

As she settled her wings, she couldn't help but shift her snout to lie beside an opening in the branches, where the pups were still visible. Her mind wandered, as it often did when alone.

She wondered whether the pup was fit for his destiny. She wondered whether the Thunderwylf had any part of it, and if not when she was going to be removed from the base. Perhaps they'd make her swear a vow of silence about its location.

But, most of all, she wondered about the war. The Shadewylves she'd fought in the prison cave. And she wondered whether she should be scared.

Because - though she tried to deny it - she was. Very scared. Every thought of those midnight-black Pelts left her shuddering in terror. She'd hoped that seeing the saviour pup would help, as Dawn had said, and fill her with hope. But no.

Instead of hope, all Angel felt was dread.