This is a fanfiction on Kinkajou's mother, Pire, from when Kinkajou was growing in her belly to when she was only a few days old. It reveals her dim past before she came to the MacNearts. ☯☮Sorrel. That's the name. Ignite the light...☔ 03:21, July 22, 2013 (UTC)


A light brown she-wolf padded through the Outermost, sniffing for any trace of food. Her name was Pire, and life was harsh in the Outermost. Less food, more wolves. More wolves meant more dead wolves; and that meant meat. She pushed some bracken aside, and saw a dead wolf. As much as she hated cannibalism, meat was meat. And she was starving. If her pups were going to get milk when they were born, it had to form from something. Pire forced her jaws to chew the flesh. Imagine its caribou, Pire. she hadn't tasted caribou in moons. Pire felt a pang of loneliness as she returned to her den. The wolf with whom she had mated was  the kind of wolf that didn't hang around to help with the upbringing of the pups or even hunt a bit of prey for her. They became mates and he left. Pire gnawed a bone, which had long lost the scraps of meat. She blinked her single eye as she fiddled with it. Pire had been born with one eye, and taken away from her milk giver by a strange she-wolf with an odd scent. Pire had remmebered being left on something cold and slippery, which made odd groaning sounds. She had managed to crawl off it before it cracked, and she had survived when a creature of sorts fed her with her milk. But when she had considered joining the clans, she had seen what abuse the deformed wolves had gone through. She didn't want to be pushed around and made to sink into awkward positions of submission. She curled up, a and closed her eyes.

The next morning, Pire padded out of the den. Snow had fallen in the night, deep and very cold. She snuffled along the snow, sniffing deeply. Then she caught the whiff of hare. Her belly gnawed uncomfortably as her mouth watered.

More coming soon