We are Ku

The young boy stuck mud in his ears, dusting them across the blue markings until you could not tell they were there. At least he had the same scent as Haiku, the twin smell, and the scent of mother's milk and den and pack gave them no ‘individualism’ like that stuff his dad was trying to throw down his throat.

He was still a little grumpy about Puppa separating them for the day. He didn’t understand why it mattered. So what if he was Ru, or Ku? Or both? Well. If he couldn’t explore with his brother today, then at least he was going to make everything think he was Ku. He wiggled at the thought of mixing up the wolves he might run into. Forgetting, entirely, about the white markings on his shoulder that his brother had more of.


"Speech"