**FLASHBACK**
It was the first event where any one had attempted real peace. The Alphas of both packs had put on a festival.
A Blue Sky harvester drove a large tractor around, and in the back, all of us kids sat and hung out, taking in the sights of the various animals.
I had to be around eight or nine, but even at that age, I knew that my first love would always be the land. From my seat on the tractor, I looked out at the fields, then at my hands. I had helped plant those fields. Nothing felt quite as satisfying as when my fingers were deep in soil. I knew that what I had planted would grow into something that would help another werewolf live.
The very thought excited me.
“You’re awfully happy. What are you smiling about?” One rude boy from the Red Moon pack said to me.
