As he lay there one night under the starry sky staring up, The Hunters Song smiled seeing the Wolf's Paw shining up above him, his mind wandering to when he was but a young colt. He'd been around a fire listening to the stories of other older kin, and one of the hunters started to talk, his words slow and measured making sure all eyes were on him as he spoke of The First Wolf.

The First Wolf was larger than any wolf alive today, as tall as the trees, and as wide as...well that was a hard one. Some said as wide as five trees, others said ten. Some said a mountain. So no one really knew just how big and wide The First Wolf truly was, just that he was huge.

Even with his massive size though he didn't hunt for sport, he hunted for what he needed to survive, which despite his size was surprisingly little in the end. So no one felt particularly afraid of The First Wolf, no instead he kept all of them safe and sheltered from harm.

The years passed and The First Wolf grew older and yet his protection didn't diminish, and when a threat came that threatened them all he was there, defending them all to his last breath. The First Wolf died, jaws locked around the neck of the predator that had come for all of them, and as his spirit rose to the sky a large paw print took shape to show they were still being watched by him. It wasn't long after that the lesser wolves they all knew became known, the offspring of The First Wolf. Not all were as good and kind as he was, some turning into predator as well, but many were and those were the ones that kin befriended far and wide still being watched over by The First Wolf even in his death.

The story he remembered was one he himself shared often around campfires to kin young and old, keeping the old hunters tale alive and The First Wolf's heroic actions known to all. Rolling over he smiled at his own wolves and yawned as his eyes drifted shut, dreams of larger than life wolves and unnamed threats filling his dreams.