We found the kid on a routine raid into the planes and hills near the borders of my lands. Every handful of years, I lead a group of our best hunters to clear out the packs of feral wolves that would occasionally wander beyond the fringes of my territory, and we'd had a few kills a bit close to a couple towns lately. We had tracked this particularly violent pseudo pack of Ferals within a few days of their den when we came upon their latest kill.

Three adults and two children lay in the small clearing, all dead and mostly devoured. I called a halt, sending my scout, Vic, to see if he could pick up the Feral’s trail. I sent my second to check the bodies, his mate trailing meekly at his side. Being the healer of the pack was the only reason she had been allowed to come; females didn’t usually participate during a Hunt. I saw Dean motion her to check the area surrounding the bodies; saw her nod and being to search the underbrush, and thought again that this needed to stop. Dean was technically within his rights to order his mate about, but during a Hunt, I was in charge, not him.

I threw a quick look around, knowing that my Hunters had seen, as well. They were milling about the clearing, sipping water; most were pacing or walking in circles to keep their muscles loose. Ten minutes went by, and I was silently snarling with impatience when Dean’s mate found something among the underbrush, not too far from the rest of the bodies. My second motioned to me as he went to look.

“I don’t know how much help it’ll be,” Dean mused as I strode over. Ashley was bent over the body of a blonde little human boy that was barely big enough to make a meal of, her fingers on its wrist. She nodded as I looked down on them; the child was alive.

“Wake it up, then,” I muttered, turning away to look at the corpses, “And see if it knows anything.” I motioned with my head, and Dean followed me to the bodies. They were mutilated, but not beyond basic recognition, save one: Two of the adults were males, the other female; the children were a boy and a girl, both much older than the unconscious boy. Dean and I checked the bodies for anything to identify them by so we wouldn’t have to wait for the police to match the dental records.

The first man we looked over was a homeless man with no identification who had been dead a few days; his corpse was the most decomposed and nearly picked clean of meat. The other two adults looked to be a couple out camping with their family. We found ID’s on both of them, as well as pictures of the kids. The family was a fresh kill: all entrails and vital organs had been eaten, but only some of the flesh on the adults was gone; the Ferals must have caught our scent mid-meal.

“As near as I can tell, the family was herded here. There’s no drag marks near the old kill, either, which makes me think this pack is more insane than usual.” I glanced around as Dean gave me his evaluation. The only tacks leading from the clearing were decidedly not human, and they indicated a hasty, disorganized retreat.

As we finished our inspection of the bodies, Dean went to confer with the wolf appointed to lead the Hunters. I stood and glanced around, looking for any evidence of the victims fighting back, maybe doing enough damage to help track the Feral wolves by. Ashley approached me from the side, the little boy clinging to her hand. Dean glanced at her and frowned, but she glared at him defiantly. “He’s terrified,” she muttered under her breath before turning to me.

“He doesn’t know anything, Sir,” she said, speaking to the ground, “He says he was wandering through the trees, and then some huge dogs chased him into this clearing. There were more dogs eating some animals,” She laid subtle emphasis on the word, “Over there. He says once they had chased him into the clearing, the dogs saw the others eating, and went to join them, and he backed into the bushes and fainted. He doesn’t remember anything else until I woke him up.”

“And where did he come from, Ashley? If he came from a house on the outskirts of town…” I let the sentence hang in the air, unwilling to give voice to what we all knew was a possibility. Ashley tightened her grip on the little boy’s hand and frowned at her feet.

“He doesn’t know, Sir.”

“He doesn’t know. He doesn’t…know.” I squatted suddenly and looked into the child’s eyes. I saw stark terror and confusion. “You don’t know where you came from? Where you live?” I asked in my most gentle voice, which was nothing less than a soft growl, and he shook his head and clutched more tightly to Ashley

“Where’s your family? Mother, father…” I trailed off and considered as the boy shook his head again, “You do have a mother and father? A home? Or do you live in these woods, by yourself?” The little boy stubbornly shook his head again, and I snarled and stood, glaring at Ashley, then Dean.

“Get rid of it,” I told Dean as I watched Vic emerge into the clearing, his eyes seeking mine. I heard a disbelieving little gasp from Ashley as I walked to speak with him. Let Dean deal with it, since he’s so keen to give orders, I thought as I motioned for the Hunters to be ready to move.