I felt a familiar ripple of excitement as I spurred myself on to even greater speeds, barely touching the crisp snow on the ground. My progress was marked by barely audiable footfalls, light thuds on the frozen ground. Ghosts, in shades of silver from pure white to black itself, fanned out behind me, their leader. Their footfalls mingled with mine as we moved, together, united. We were an unbreakable pack, our bonds stronger than the metals that the humans compared our coats to. My grey eyes pierced the night, lit by the full moon and I focused on our target. The large elk was stumbling from exhaustion, a lumbering thing in comparison to our weightless grace.
The pack flashed through the trees, those that had flanked me now coming around to surround the floundering prey, trapped by a particularly deep snow drift. As my anticipation built I covered the last few metres and sprang. I felt the triumph of the hunter as my jaws closed around the jugular. Warm copper ran down my throat and I lifted my spattered muzzle to release the haunting cry of triumph that alerted everyone to the power of this pack. Moments later, the pack added their voices to my own, the notes mingling, the strongest and the weakest merging to create the song that all knew as the wolf's howl. We were the pack, strong and unbreakable.