A Wolf Called Wander

“I sit on my wag, but it will not hold still. I breathe in the smell of him, deeper and longer until his scent holds a spot in my memory right next to Mother. I will do anything for him! […] ‘Father! Mine!’ I cannot stop smelling the red on him. It makes me hungry like the smell of mother’s milk, but this is a new smell. A richer smell. I can’t resist it. I nose his chin. I lick his face. He leans toward me and opens his mouth wide.”

When Wander meets his father for the first time, he immediately recognizes his father’s position of power in the pack and appreciates the instantaneous bond despite his instinctual fear in the presence of such a large and intimidating wolf. From his father’s mouth, Wander receives his first taste of meat and learns that elk, as the wolves’ primary and preferred prey source, are essential to sustaining the health and growth of a pack.

“I watch it all: the quick and silent approach, the line of attack, the direction of the wind, the way my father circles around the front, turning the deer back into the jaws of Mother and Song. In my head I’m there with them, chasing, circling, springing. I will feed my pack. I will. Better than all of them. I watch Father hunt every day. Even after I grow from a pup to a yearling. I learn. I remember. I run.”

Wander is instinctively motivated to ascend to the role of hunter from the moment he begins to venture forth from his den as a young pup. He is more serious and introspective than his siblings; he seeks out every opportunity to learn about pack dynamics from his elders, becoming a fixture at his father’s side so that he might learn how to emulate the qualities of a leader. He structures his mindset around cultivating the skills necessary to earn the responsibilities he wishes to assume in the future.

“All winter long we hunt, filling our bellies, leaving red-stained snow and scraps for scavengers behind. All winter Father chooses me to run the herd, and Sharp to help him make the kill. I can run circles around them all, but Sharp is the biggest. We are yearlings, but he is as tall as Father, and if he keeps getting first go at the meat, he will be as big as Father soon. I am not the bringer of meat. Maybe I never will be. I grow restless as the season turns.”

Wander is disappointed when his brother Sharp is chosen for a central role in the hunt: one that carries respect and influence within the pack. He regrets that none of his preparation or natural aptitude for speed and agility allowed him to achieve a similar status. Adding to Wander’s feeling of dejection, Sharp frequently receives the praise and preferential treatment that Wander hoped their father might instead give to him. Wander is still young and does not understand that his father’s decision is strategic and takes into account the strengths of all pack members.

“They lunge all together for Father. We dive in to pull the attackers off. Two of the smaller ones fall, but there are many more. An enemy wolf breaks away from the fight and smells the ground. If he finds the pups’ trail, they will be lost. I dash after him. The pale wolf is thick with muscle. I cannot win, but I can draw him away from my family.”

Pack mentality is deeply ingrained in Wander, and his strong sense of duty is exemplified by his unwavering motivation to make decisions that prioritize the greater good of his family over his own safety. Wander understands that pups are the future of a pack, and thus, their vulnerability and his love for his mother drive him to challenge a rival who could very likely kill him. Wander’s intelligence is evident in his appreciation of his disadvantages against this enemy, for instead of challenging him, Wander decides to use strategy, agility, and background knowledge of his home terrain to manipulate the interloper.

“I am only halfway home when I hear, carried on the wind from deep in my home ground, my father’s last song. All creatures have one at the end. […] ‘Carry on. Carry on. Carry on…’ My fur stands up and I lift my head for one last —one very last—smell of him. But I am far and all I can smell is the enemy wolf and all I can hear is the enemy pack answering, drowning out my father’s last song with their chant.”

The death of Father results in the decimation of Wander’s pack. As he traverses hundreds of miles in the months to come, looking for a place to call home, he will wonder what became of his other family members after the battle with the pale wolves. Without his father, any surviving pack members would be scattered, left without protection or leadership. His father’s command to carry on will resurface in Wander’s mind at his lowest moments, encouraging and comforting him, but at this moment he is filled with loneliness, fear, and despair.

“The smell turns my stomach over. These were my trees. My meadows. My cold streams and ice-capped peaks. But the border-mark stops me like the face of a cliff. I must not pass. I cannot leave Warm to the teeth and claws of the intruders. I wet-mark a tree on my own side of the border. I beat the ground with my paws, laying down a scent he can follow. I run along the prairie side of the border and wet-mark the scattered oaks and aspen as I go. I cannot kill the pale wolves, but I can light a path for Warm to find me.”

Wander’s grief over the destruction of his family is compounded by his frustration over his inability to do anything about the invasion and occupation of his home ground. Markings that are left by wolves serve the purpose of clearly delineating territory lines and paths of travel. Wander’s relationship with Warm is one of dominant to subordinate; his brother recognizes Wander’s strength and expresses his devotion and deference to him from a very early age. Wander feels a responsibility to lead and protect Warm as best he can under the circumstances, which in this case means leaving a trail for him to follow if he can.

“I check my run and circle back, only to have the elk turn again. In less than a heartbeat he kicks, slicing deep into the meat of my chest. My breath wooshes out. I hear the crack of bones. Fire runs up my neck and down the pads of my feet. I hit the ground, and night falls as swift as a thunderclap.”

Wander has always been ambitious and eager to seek greater pack responsibility. Now, despite how acutely aware he is of his isolation and vulnerability, Wander does not consider how the hunting schematics he has been engaging in with his family might be dangerous to undertake on his own. By cooperating and choosing weakened targets for a kill, the pack has managed to avoid injury, but in his enthusiasm and overconfidence, Wander makes a drastic mistake in underestimating the power and threat of an angry elk.

“When I wake, I smell a wolf again. Just one, and it is far from me. I desperately want it to be Warm. I need it to be a wolf from my pack. Someone who will find me and help me grow strong again. Not an enemy wolf, who will kill me on sight. Not one of the bachelor wolves, who might kill me if he had the chance. If they are low enough to eat sheep, they just might. But there is a thought worse than being killed. They might find me and then walk away because I am no pack mate of theirs. I might have done the same just a few sunrises ago. Not now. Now I know what it means to be alone.”

Wander is still a young wolf, and his sense of identity is defined by his relationships with the other members of his pack and his position relative to theirs. There are moments throughout A Wolf Called Wander when Wander begins to show weakness under the extraordinarily trying circumstances in which he finds himself. He occasionally considers actions that oppose the personal values that his father instilled in him, but ultimately, each time he presses on and resists the temptation to take an easier path.

“I remember how ravens talked to my father. How they led him to food and he thanked them with a gift of scraps. I need my pack, and maybe this raven can help me find them. I would give an entire elk to know what she can see from their air.”

One of the pervasive concepts impressed upon the reader throughout Wander’s narrative is the omnipresence of the myriad relationships between wild animals and the natural environments they inhabit. The survival of one species is inextricably linked to the health of other species, and the symbiosis between these animals often determines their mutual survival. Wander gradually integrates what he learns from observing his father into his own approach to his solitary life, and in discovering how to cooperate with the raven, he slowly hones himself into a more mature wolf with the ability to relate more fully to the nuances of his habitat.

“And then I see them. Claw marks. From his back to his rump. […] I feel a revenge growl deep in my throat. Who did this? I will tear them part with my own teeth! But even as my growl builds to a snarl, I know that whoever did this was bigger and stronger than me. How will I protect Warm now? I am wounded and weak myself. […] I lick his ears the way he likes. ‘Across enemy ground, and clear out here on the flat, you never gave up.’

‘I would follow you anywhere,’ he says.”

A recurring source of anger and grief for Wander is his sense of powerlessness as a young wolf with much to learn, for he is cast too early into the wilderness and is largely unprepared for the challenges and dangers that he will inevitably face. Wander is far better equipped to deal with threats to himself than he is to abide affronts against those he loves. When Warm finds him, Wander is heartbroken because his joy at their reunion is short-lived; even before his brother is killed, Wander feels as though he has failed, because he cannot imagine how he will be able to protect Warm as he promised.

“I feel-smell the sharp tooth of something whiz past my ears. We leap up, scampering away from the light that now swings back and forth across the grass. The lightning comes again in bursts. Again I feel it scorch the air above my head. […] I will draw it away from him. I yelp to attract attention. I make noise as I sprint, while Warm runs in complete silence, with all the strength he has left. The light swings toward me and away, as lightning snaps at my feet. Warm cries out: one sharp wail drowned out by lightning. My heart is bursting. I cannot see Warm. I can only run and hope.”

Wander often expresses confusion and fear in his brief interactions with humans, and in this chaotic, violent, and fatal encounter, he describes his perception of pursuit and gunfire. The men are presumably ranchers, because they kill the bachelor wolves as the two young males feast on the calf. Wander and Warm are collateral damage in the exchange, and through her descriptions of the humans’ wanton cruelty in this scene, Roseanne Parry highlights the lack of distinction often made by those who kill wolves indiscriminately and believe them all to be an equal threat to the welfare of their livestock.

“The bruises from my fall are slowly fading. But the hard edges of my memory become sharper. They push deep into me like a tooth. Warm followed me. He found me. I promised to protect him. Promised. […] He made me the wolf I am. And I lost him. I was not strong enough, not fast enough to save his life. He died alone, with no one beside him to sing his name to the wolf star.”

Wander’s motivation to continue along his strenuous, seemingly endless journey is his hope that he will one day discover a place that feels like home and companion wolves with whom he can form a pack. The loss of his closest pack mate, who depended upon him and pledged loyalty to him, is a significant emotional wound. Wander recognizes Warm’s contribution to the wolf Wander grows to be, and Wander’s inability to live up to the responsibilities of a leader and protect his younger brother is a long-standing source of guilt, sorrow, and shame.

“I grow stronger every day—stronger in my body. But the farther I get from the mountains, the harder it is to hold up my tail. There is no one here to care for and wrestle with and share smells with. No one to sing with. No tails to catch. No ears to nip. No one to sit shoulder to shoulder with and watch the wolf star as it rises before the sun. Even a summer night is cold when you sleep alone.”

Wander’s story is based on the journey of a real wolf known as OR-7, whose movements were tracked by researchers who fitted him with a GPS-enabled radio collar in 2011. OR-7 was particularly special because when he crossed west of the Cascade Range, he was the first wolf to do so since aggressive hunting by humans completely eradicated wolves in the region by the mid-20th century. The absence of wolves in Wander’s vicinity for most of his travels is consistent with OR-7’s experience and illustrates the extent to which human encroachment on wild spaces can so heavily impact a species.

“I should take her far away, where she will be safe. The almost-wolf is inside the lines with a big pack of mother sheep and their pups. The almost-wolf is looking right at me, whimpering and wagging. A man pup is inside the gray lines with her. It is touching the almost-wolf. It is stroking her beautiful fur gently around the ears where mother used to lick me. […] She copies my howl with no more understanding. The man pup pulls her away from the lines, and she obeys it. It is small. She could break away from its grasp with no effort at all. She could crush its bones in one bite. But she stays.”

The not-wolf that Wander describes is a livestock guardian dog. Bred for their loyalty, courage, and protective instincts, dogs like this female keep watch over the sheep and are responsible for defending vulnerable farm animals against predators and other intruders. Wander is confused because despite the fact that he and the dog share an overwhelming number of characteristics, she nonetheless demonstrates strong loyalty toward the very humans whom Wander has learned not to trust.

“As I nose among the bones, I see that something is very wrong. Every rib is broken. Not one cracked bone, as happens in a fall. All the bones are shattered, as if a huge boulder fell on the deer. There is no boulder beside the body and no cliff for one to fall from. This is a blow like nothing I have ever seen. […] A noisemaker did this. Crushed the deer in mid-gallop and kept going without stopping to eat or even give a nod of thanks to the life that sustains all who run on four paws. Mother was right. There is no understanding men.”

The black river that Wander learns to mistrust is a paved road; throughout A Wolf Called Wander, there are many examples of the dangers posed to animals by human habitation, and all of them are characterized by human indifference to the impacts their actions have on the natural world. Wander was taught by his father that gratitude should always precede feasting in the aftermath of a successful hunt. In recognizing that the deer had been hit by a noisemaker, or car, Wander is shocked by the potential for physical destruction that a vehicle contains, as well as by the apparent callousness with which the deer carcass was left on the side of the road after its death.

“Do all wolves do this? I have to try. I think about how Growl looked at me when I was about to cross a line. I move directly across the black river from the black wolf. I put my body in the pose of an angry pup-watcher. I wait for the light from the noisemaker to wash over me, and I give her my fiercest pup-watcher growl. I know she cannot hear me, but she can see the way I stand and beat the ground and lower my head. She can see me watch her with that commanding look, my lips curled back with growling.

‘Do not pass!’”

Mirroring the willingness to sacrifice himself that Wander demonstrated when he courageously lured the pale wolf away from the scent of his mother and the wolf pups, Wander foregoes his desire for companionship with the mystery wolf in favor of assuming a protective role and sparing her a potentially violent death. Over the course of his narrative, Wander integrates the lessons that he learned from the elder members of his pack, implementing them as applicable situations arise. In replicating Growl’s behavior in the hope that it will convey to the mystery wolf that danger is present, Wander is carrying his pack’s legacy with him as he matures into the adult wolf he will become.

“She carries on eating and squabbling with her pack as if I am not there. As if kinship between a wolf and a raven is impossible. As if all the days we have traveled together mean nothing at all. When the shadows grow long and the air cools, every one of the ravens takes to the sky without a backward look. They roost together on the other side of the water, far away from me. My raven has her pack now.”

While Wander and the raven both benefit greatly from the collaborative relationship they develop over the course of their travels together, the raven does not hesitate to rejoin her species when she meets another flock of ravens at the lake. Wander is sad to lose her companionship, because while she has found her own kind, he still has yet to encounter his. The raven is Wander’s only source of prolonged social interaction for several months, and he is sad to be reminded of just how alone he truly is.

“This is a mountain. A mountain! There should be wolves. I have run for days and days. The moon has gone from fat to thin and is growing fatter again. Ever since I crossed the black river, I have not seen a single wolf scat. No paw prints. No scent marks. I had brothers and sisters, a whole pack. I never imagined that the world could be so big or that I could be so alone in it. I remember the wolf on the shore of the black river. The one I drove away. I am not sorry that I saved her from being crushed by noisemakers. I want her to live. But I never wanted to be alone. There must be wolves somewhere. If only I knew which way to turn.”

OR-7, the real-life inspiration behind the character of Wander, covered approximately 1,000 miles on foot at around 15 miles each day before choosing a place to settle. According to the California Department of Fish and Wildlife, OR-7 traveled through “ponderosa pine forests, mixed conifer forests, lava flows, sagebrush shrublands, juniper woodlands and agricultural lands” (“OR-7 – A Lone Wolf’s Story.” California Department of Fish and Wildlife). Each of these climates is depicted in A Wolf Called Wander, and the inhospitable nature of some areas that Wander traverses illustrates why he had such a difficult time surviving and why he had to search for so long and travel so far.

“The new horse is what a cougar would want. I should walk away. But the horses are not sneaking, solitary creatures. They are not mindless grass-eaters like sheep. They are a pack. I could warn them. I should. A cougar is bigger than me. He can jump rivers I have to swim, and leap into trees like a bird. With a pack at my side I would not fear him for a moment, but I am on my own and cougars are treacherous. It is coming into range. In a moment, smell will give me away. I make my choice. I give one sharp bark. It is all the warning I can spare.”

The birth of the wild foal rekindles many of the cherished memories that Wander has of his own wolf pack. Although very different in characteristics and temperament from the horses, Wander recognizes in them a bond that is reminiscent of the one he shared with his family. For the first time, Wander begins to envision himself as not just the leader of his own wolf pack, but as the father of his own pups. When he sacrifices his safety to draw the cougar away from the newborn foal and the band of wild horses, he is replicating the gesture he made to his own family when he drew the pale wolf away from his younger siblings’ trail. It is out of respect for the familial structure of the herd that Wander is willing to risk his life in service of the greater good.

“I will kill this black-horned deer. Father would want me to. I can never get him back, but I can make I live in my hunting. I will howl his song over the meat. The stranger wolf will come to me. If I feed her, she will follow me like Mother and Song and Growl followed him. If I feed her again, she will follow me again, and if I feed her all through the winter, she will never leave me.”

Wander is not familiar with pronghorns, so he does not anticipate that they will outrun him, but his determination to kill one is a testament to his desire to initiate a relationship with the mysterious female wolf in his vicinity, and to do so in a way that will compel her to join him in creating a new pack. From his mother, Wander learned that leadership is defined by a wolf’s ability to provide meat and ensure safety, and in his enthusiasm to prove his capabilities to Night, Wander is willing to stretch the boundaries of what he has done before to accomplish this goal.

“I will not bow down to this fire. Even as the unburned circle of grass where I stand grows smaller. I squeeze my eyes shut against the wind. The ground under my feet slopes down. Water will flow down. I turn to the downhill side of the ring. Eyes still closed, I gather myself for a great spring. I burst through the swirling circle of fire. I hit the ground on a downhill slope. I roll over and over in the dirt until the smell of burning fur is gone. I spring to my feet and run. The fire is on my heels, scorching my paws. Fire is above my head, singeing my fur. Burning branches topple and light up more trees. The ground gets steeper, and I pour on the speed. Carry on. Carry on. I promise it to my father, my pack, myself.”

Over the course of his narrative, Wander encounters a vast array of different threats to his safety and survival, and his escape from the forest fire toward the end of the novel is symbolic of the cumulative potential of nature’s power to overwhelm and thwart an individual’s ability to thrive in an environment that is often hostile. The fire is Wander’s greatest test, and as he does throughout his journey, he draws upon the strength of his love for his family and all that they taught him before they were separated. Wander knows that he is likely the only wolf remaining to carry on his father’s legacy, and that escaping the fire means honoring all that he cherishes about his family.

“There is no border to find. No mark of rival wolves. I make my choice and run toward the new wolf. […] Not everything is the same. There are trees I can’t name. Birds I have never seen before. But it is like home. It could be home. […] Everything I need is here. I stand up against a pine tree and mark with my claws as high as I can reach. I wet-mark it. Not the faint gentle smell-marks my feet make. Not the marks that say, Here I am. Follow if you like. This mark says, MINE. Mine for living. Mine for hunting. Mine until you kill me to take it away.”

The discovery of his new home is the climax of Wander’s story, the moment when he finally achieves his goal of finding a place that epitomizes all of the characteristics that he loved about his home ground, but that is untouched by the presence of rivals and full of promise and abundance for his future. After all that he has conquered in his efforts to find this place, he has matured into the kind of wolf his father would be proud of. When they first met, Father’s first words to Wander were “Son. Mine.” When Wander marks his new territory, he claims ownership of his home just as his father claimed leadership of his pack. In so doing, he is stepping into the role of an adult for the first time.

“We stand over our meal, red running from our mouths, and she knows. She waits. Just for a moment. To be grateful for the life we have taken. In that moment I’m more grateful for the life I have found than the one I’ve taken. She still will not lower her tail to me, and I suspect she never will. But she has not made me lower my tail to her either. An equal bond. Like Mother and Father.”

Wander initially expects that Night will defer to him and respect the position he tries to assert through his posturing and display of prowess. Instead, he realizes something about his own parents’ relationship that he had not been able to appreciate when he was merely a pup. Though his father was their highest-ranking pack member, his relationship with Mother was a partnership built on mutual strength and respect. When Night refuses to submit to Wander, she is showing herself to be worthy of being his equal. Their equal status is cemented when they bring down an elk together, for although Wander is never confident enough to try to kill another elk by himself after his debilitating injury, he and Night are able to fell one together.