Karl I’d sent scouts out at 4am this morning to travel to the boarder incognito and see if there were West pack members patrolling. As I got all the pack members who were coming with us situated in their positions for our convoy down, the scouting team called me. “Hello boss.” That was Eric he has always called me boss. Becoming a werewolf late in life made the older ones a stickler for law and order. They were big on ranks and their place in them. To old to challenge and move up, they liked to keep order in our ranks. They often demonstrated this by calling us higher rank wolves boss or Sir. They say it shows respect and is the example they expect to be followed. It made my life easier with the youngsters even though it didn’t feel right that a seasoned federal agent of fifty years was calling me boss. But who was I to complain. And our seasoned federal agents were the best at this type of scouting mission. “Hey Eric, how we doing over there?” I asked him as I rallied the wolve
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