OCTOBER 2021
It was cold outside—in the upper-40s, but Black Summit’s biweekly pack meetings didn’t really work anywhere else, and it wasn’t too cold. I estimated that there were somewhere around 150 wolves in attendance today, some standing, some sitting in the dead grass.
I liked autumn in Vermont. The clusters of trees that flanked either side of the field boasted leaves of vibrant red, orange, and yellow shades, and I was sure that soon enough, the mountains in the distance would be capped with snow.
For the time being, I didn’t mind outdoor pack meetings.
Our meeting had just come to an end, and immediately, Reid and I both were approached by pack members who were wanting to speak to us.
He was approached by a young warrior whose name was Joey. From what I overheard, he want
