Unlike most wolf tribes, ours didn't receive strangers as guests. I won't go into the details about how they were treated, but the Ferryman, who takes people to and fro between North Island and South Island could give you a pretty good idea.
As it was, we now actually had three captives in our prison - the Racoon, an honorary member of our tribe, had ordered it. I thought he had gone to far, pushing himself forward as the leader. Why did Gar listen to him at all? He could kill him with one swipe of his paw!
Yet, our leader left him to himself.
I could only see two prisoners from the entrance: a Boar and an Elk. Gar's sidekick (who loved boasting to the rest of the pack about his 'abilities') told us the third one was a Fox. I supposed he must have been dozing under the bench, or in a corner.
The next morning, the pack set off to hunt. They left me behind, in one of the huts, because I was down with a fever. When they came back, they found the cage door open and the prisoners gone. Gar got really mad and, I suppose, was going to kill me, accusing me of letting them go ('fraid he doesn't think very far when he's mad) - when one of his wives suggested it might have been Shiala, the lone warrior. Also, it couldn't have been me, because I was too sick to walk around, let alone cut open the door.
What made Gar the angriest, however, was that his ancient Human trophy had disappeared. In vain, he ordered his sidekick to search all the huts - but to no avail. So he came to the conclusion that either Shiala or the prisoners must have taken it - the probability resting on the prisoners, seeing as Shiala would have no use for it. He became really mad again. Still nursing his pet theory of my releasing them, he decided to punish me by taking away my most prized possession: my sextant.
For the next few days, however, nothing really happened. Then, the Racoon realised the whereabouts of the ex-prisoners (the Ancient Ruins), and ordered Gar's sidekick to follow them noiselessly.
And then, two days after that, the badly bruised wolf reported back to camp, saying the ex-prisoners had thrown the Orb over the side of the dam and the Racoon had jumped after it.
This was a great shock for Gar. Suddenly, the leadership responsibilities were his! In a panic, he summoned all the male cubs above the age of twelve and under that of fifteen to stand in a row (anyone elder than fifteen was too useful a hunter to send off on some crazy mission) and told them: "The Orb of which Chota the Racoon spoke is missing." All of them knew that by now, but they knew to keep quiet. "You must go out and try find it." the cubs were all glad to be sent on a quest.
I was watching them - I had just returned from a night in the woods, studying the stars - and I was jealous.
Not realising my inferior position, I spoke up. "I can find the Orb just as good as any of them, Sir," I said. "Let me go out too."
With a snarl, Gar turned to me. He hated impertinence... at least, he was in a foul mood that day. Its understandable, I guess.
"Go!" he growled. "And don't come back. If you ever survive what's about to happen to you, don't squeak a word of where you come from, or what your real name is. Or else."
I got a huge fright at the mention of, 'If you survive what's about to happen to you', and I was right to. Gar liked bloody sports, and the Racoon had restricted him from having any for the last few moons, saying they needed every last wolf for a spy or a warrior. Now he set six of his fastest, strongest warriors on my tail (although he did give me a head start) and told them that, if they caught me, they were free to kill me: slowly. So I ran and ran. Thankfully, they were rather unfit. Oh yes, thought I'd mention this: as I ran away, someone threw a wooden box in a leather case at my head, and I picked it up... I don't think the person who threw it knew what was in it, or they wouldn't have thrown it.
At last, unable to go any further, I collapsed in the snow on the peak of one of the mountains, where the Snow Wolves found me. They had no use for a cub not accustomed to their way of life, and they sent me away. And so I found the Mixed Tribe. A while ago, a part of the Hunters of the Dark Claw had broken off, tired of attending to the Racoon's every whim. They were such a small part, however, that they needed to collaborate with other kinds of Morph to survive. So that was them. They were happy to have an extra food-bringer, and allowed me to stay with them. So I stayed with them for a few moons. And then an Otter visited. I had seen the Otter before - he was a mercenary, paid to do the dirty work for anybody who wanted dirty work done. And he worked mainly for Gar. Uh-oh, I thought. I didn't know why he was here, but I knew I had to get out of here - fast. Very fast. I got up in the dead of night and headed for the dock. The Ferryman was asleep. Taking a deep breath, I shoved him off the boat and pushed off, into the sea. (Needless to say, he was livid and going crazy as I left.) But I was home free - or so I thought.
While I was paddling as fast as possible on the sea, making what I thought was a clean getaway, a storm struck up.
When I awoke, Rif and Rhene were towering over me... and the rest is history.
So that's my theory for Sandy's past life and all. It just leaves one thing unexplained: the black sail. But you could say the Ferryman finally decided to mend his sail and took black for an austere/menacing/cool effect. Actually, I don't think that's the explanation, but ja.
Please post a reply, I'd like to know what people think of my idea.
