Disclaimer: I own nothing but this drabble.

The Howling

He hears them on clear nights, when the moon is full and highest in the sky, their voices haunting, jarring.

It has been a long time since he last saw the wolves of the Seeonee, too long in fact that Bagheera has left him, and he can no longer understand the words to the songs that drive him to the brink of madness him on nights like this.

The song grows louder as the wolves come closer. He wonders if they hunt tonight, or they are merely at play, running wild and free just beyond his village's border.

And it is while he sits there, with his eyes closed and his heart aching, that the wolf inside of him surfaces and the language barrier is broken just long enough for him to hear two familiar voices, aged and tired, calling out five words that make his stomach churn.

Come back to us, brother.