A wolf. Two wolves, three wolves. Emerging from the pack. I stand before them. Too many. I am alone; they are too many to count. Will no one come to my aid? The alpha growls. I flinch. What to do? There are too many. Too many to befriend them all, to bend them towards trusting me. Too many to fight. Too many to ignore. Oh, how I wish they could be ignored. I do not wish to be torn apart. I would not wish that upon my worst enemy. Actually, I did once wish that upon my worst enemy. Too many. I cannot run for my life. I cannot fight back. I cannot do anything but stand, stand, stand, waiting to be rescued or torn apart. A rustle. Two, three, four rustles. Several more rustles of the leaves. Is someone coming to save me? More rustles. My pack rushes towards me. To fight against the others. I join them in the fight. I am the Zeta1. I am the general. I will help my family fight. Tonight, We will win.

1the Zeta is the lead warrior in a wolf pack