Frozen Wolves Beg Man to Enter the House! He’s Shocked by What Happens Next…

The larger wolf paced nervously, occasionally sniffing the air outside the makeshift shelter, as if searching for something familiar. The smaller wolf rested with half-closed eyes, better after the sedative, but still clearly in pain. Kara, Warren asked at one point, do you think they sense their pack might be near, or are they just anxious? She considered his question.

Wolves have powerful instincts for tracking pack members. It’s possible they can sense a distant scent or a familiar territory. But given the storm’s aftermath, any scent trails could be lost.

Restlessness and concern weighed on them as the hours ticked by. Warren, unaccustomed to such prolonged inactivity, volunteered to scout the immediate area for more firewood. Kara agreed it was a good idea, so long as he stayed within sight of the shelter.

Don’t go too far, she cautioned. The snow’s deep, and we don’t want to lose you if the weather turns again. Arming himself with warm clothes and a sturdy shovel, Warren ventured a short distance away from the creek.

The landscape, cloaked in fresh snow, was both stunning and treacherous. Each step sank knee-deep, forcing him to conserve energy. Still, he managed to gather enough fallen branches to keep the fire going through another cold night.

On his return trip, however, something caught his attention, a faint set of tracks leading away from the creek’s bank. They weren’t large enough for a moose, nor small enough for rabbits or foxes. His heart quickened, suspecting they might be wolf tracks.

But were they from his two wards or another animal entirely? Curiosity prodded him forward. He followed the tracks for a short while, noticing the stride seemed uneven, as if the wolf, if it was a wolf, was limping. Could it be another injured member of the same pack? Or perhaps the smaller wolf had wandered around before he’d taken it in? The questions swirled, fuelling his sense of urgency.

A sudden gust of wind lifted the surface snow, stinging his face and blurring his vision. Warren realised he had strayed farther than intended. The shelter was now out of sight.

He glanced back, orienting himself by a crooked pine he’d passed minutes earlier. Better to head back before he got lost or the weather shifted again. But as he turned, he caught a glimpse of movement in the corner of his eye.

A flash of grey fur among the trees. His breath caught. Another wolf.

He carefully laid down the bundle of wood, not wanting to appear threatening. Hello, he murmured, aware of how absurd it sounded to greet a wild creature. Yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that this wolf might be connected to the pair he was sheltering.

The figure slinked closer, staying behind the trunk of a gnarled birch. Warren caught sight of a thin muzzle, tall ears and a patchy coat. Definitely a wolf, but in rough shape.

It observed him warily, as if uncertain whether to approach or flee. Warren stood still, adopting the same calm posture he’d used with the injured wolf in his cabin. Minutes passed in a standoff of sorts.

Finally, the wolf took a tentative step forward. Warren could now see it was severely underweight, its fur matted with ice. It held its head low, not in a submissive manner, but in exhaustion.

A pang of compassion resonated within him. How many wolves out here were fighting a losing battle against the relentless winter? He recalled Kara’s mention of a pack. Was this yet another separated member? The idea tugged at him.

If they could reunite these wolves, perhaps they’d all stand a better chance. Then, abruptly, the wolf growled a deep rumble that startled Warren. It bared its teeth, though it appeared too weak to truly threaten.

Warren instinctively raised his arms, palms out, showing he had no weapon. Easy, he whispered, heart thudding. But the wolf’s eyes flicked past him, focusing on something behind him.

Warren risked a glance over his shoulder, seeing only snow-covered branches and the tracks he’d left. The wolf’s growl intensified. Then it bolted, disappearing among the pines with surprising agility for its emaciated frame.

A swirl of confusion and unease settled over Warren. Why had it run? And what had spooked it? Clutching his bundle of wood, he headed back to the shelter, the entire encounter replaying in his mind. When he returned, Kara spotted the troubled look on his face.

Everything okay, she asked as he deposited the wood near the fire. Warren explained what he’d seen. Kara listened intently, her expression growing pensive.

Another lone wolf, injured or starving, could be part of the same pack. Or it might be a rogue. Either way, it’s risky to follow it without backup…