Chapter 2
Once he’s processed everything, it’s fairly easy for Kakashi to get his feet under him. Literally.
He’s watched his dogs run around often enough that it’s ingrained in his memory even without the Sharingan. His puppy legs are a lot longer than his ninken’s were, and his puppy paws are absolutely ginormous. He wanders through the forest peacefully. It’s completely unmarked by battles – no divots or gouges from kunai, no odd terrain or scorch marks from jutsu. Not one Hashirama tree, either. Those grew anywhere that a Mokuton user had fought.
It wasn’t like Hashirama was the only Mokuton user in the world – there were plenty before him who had made the bloodline famous and given it its name. The trees were scattered throughout the entirety of the Elemental Nations.
His peace isn’t only from the lack of battle signs. There are no predators in the woods, at least, none big enough to threaten him. He’d seen signs of badgers, and maybe a few foxes, but no other wolves or animals like bears. There is simply no flora large enough to support herbivores bigger than a pig. Though he had seen some pigs big enough to eat a man.
He trotted over to a still pond in a cut-grass field. Farmland of some sort, maintained.
This is his first venture into human territory and away from the safety of the trees.
Kakashi’s reflection isn’t even too far off from what he expected: a pile of thick white fur on his scruff; a dark gray, almost black muzzle, jaw, and neck; black-tipped ears and tail; silver-white fur everywhere else. The only surprise is the scar still over his eye.
A quick examination of his paws and legs confirmed – scars from his human life had carried over.
Thin, furless lines on his paws and webbing from handling blades for so many years, more ropey scars on his torso from enemies. A fuuma shuriken to the ribs, a fist that had shattered his collarbone and broken his skin, a tanto to the thigh, etc, etc.
Kakashi is a map of violence and war, even in this new body.
A strange lowing made Kakashi’s ears twitch. Slowly, he raised his head away from his reflection and across the pond. He was faced with a herd of… something. Bovine, like goats. Shaggy brown fur. Deer-like eyes. They looked like fat horses, or tall pigs, or particularly deer-like (and tiny) water buffalo. But without any horns or antlers or sharp teeth.
Herbivores, definitely. So not a threat unless he spooks them.
His ears flick again when a suspiciously human whisper comes from the top of the hill, just out of his range of sight unless he feels like turning his back to the creature that could trample him in a heartbeat.
He takes a step along the shore, keeping the bovine not-goat not-horse not-Kiri Water Buffalo in sight. The human noises (words, they are words, Kakashi) are nothing but snippets “-wolf-” “-how?” “-Britain-” and remain immaterial. Nothing concrete. Then, when Kakashi is only ten paces from the not-water buffalo that looks more pillowy than anything, he gets a full sentence.
“It’s getting closer to the cows! What if it attacks?” “No, no, look at it’s tail. It’s wagging.”
Huh. His tail was wagging.
He was faced with a new creature, in a new world, with a new form. He was excited. How could he not be? He was home.
The creature (cow?) had clearly never been attacked by a wolf (or dog, considering the humans’ surprise at the presence of a wolf). But Kakashi had always been a cautious soul and so gave off as many “not-a-threat” vibes as possible. The deer-eyed beast blinked dumbly at him. Its ears flicked at a fly.
A glimpse under its belly gave Kakashi an idea.
See, Kakashi – despite being a good hunter, tracker, and ninja – couldn’t hunt his own food. His paws crashed loudly on the floor, he couldn’t move fast enough, anything he could smell could also smell him, and, well, he hadn’t trained for this. His hunting in his last life had been in a human body, where he could follow from the trees. His ninken and pack would help him surround the prey and trap it. He had access to projectiles and weapons of all sorts.
He had armor.
Here, he was defenseless.
His only armor was his fur and thicker skin. Kakashi’s only weapons were his teeth and claws. He had no pack to help him surround and take down prey. He was stuck on the ground instead of the trees.
He had every disadvantage.
Maybe, if Kakashi had a full stomach and more guts he could fight a badger, or strike down a fox, or cat. But as it was, he hadn’t eaten in the few days since he’d woken up.
This is where Kakashi’s idea comes in.
The cow-thing is twice his size. He’s likely the size of its young. It’s on human land, which means it’s livestock. Humans keep livestock for companionship, meat, or milk. By the udders on the creature, it’s the third one.
Wolves are usually fully weaned off of milk by two or three months, but lactose intolerance can take a while to set in. Some never develop it. Though Kakashi’s body is six months old, there is a good chance that he will be able to process the milk. Even if he can’t, it might be worth the risk.
He’d certainly done odder things for the sake of missions.
He let the creature sniff at him, and only relaxed once he was sure it wouldn’t kick him away. He’d been kicked once by a horse.
It hadn’t felt good.
The milk was fine, though the knowledge that people, fellow humans, were watching him made the experience more mortifying than it should’ve been. Kakashi drank his fill and thanked the cow before creeping away from- everything. If he didn’t get an upset stomach, this might be a viable solution to his food issue. Herd animals were common – especially ones cultivated by humans.
The basic tenets of survival were finally completed. Water – creeks and ponds – food – milk, bugs, whatever he fought or scavenged – and shelter – the thick brush that populated this strange countryside.
He could do this.
He would learn to thrive in this new world.
—
All over Britain, news went viral at the sighting of a wolf.
Facts and misinformation spread like wildfire. “-Well that's just it Tom, dire wolves like the pup discovered by two Scottish farmers are notoriously wild. Unlike wolves and dogs they cannot be domesticated. They're more like cats, or coyotes and dingoes in that respect.”
“Thank you, Janice. Can you tell our lovely viewers what to look for if there is a wandering dire wolf pack in the UK?”
“Of course. Dire wolves are a dog-like subspecies native to the North Americas. It is suspected that they simply developed alongside modern Gray Wolves, and are a completely different species.
“On average, they grow twice the size of a Gray Wolf – around 1.5 meters at the shoulder. Their coloring is often in various shades of red, russet or brown. They have black-tipped ears and tails, and sometimes paws. Silver coloring like the pup in the video is uncommon, but was often noted after a few generations in captivity – it might be a sign of stress or just a recessive gene that doesn't survive in the wild.
“Dire wolves – Aenocyon dirus – were declassified from near- to extinct in 1863, when the last known dire wolf passed in captivity at the age of 24. For the next fifty years the scientific community argued over whether the last specimen had truly passed, as dire wolf pelts continued to show up on the black market, and there were many rumors of live wolves being passed around rich and famous collectors.
“A bounty has been restarted by scientists and researchers, promising £10,000 for anyone who brings the wolf pup—or other escaped dire wolves—in alive and unharmed. This could be a gold mine for farmers and countrymen alike, and it's estimated to be the best way to keep this near-extinct species from returning to the extinction list.
“A reminder: the wolf is silver-gray with black around its scruff, ears, tail, and paws. It's been caught drinking cow milk by multiple farmers and has only been seen alone. It's estimated to be four to seven months old, and not yet capable of hunting. Any farmers concerned about their livestock have nothing to fear—the wolf isn't old enough to hunt anything larger than a rabbit and the reward for bringing it in, unharmed and alive, is 10,000 pounds.
“Currently, experts estimate that the silver dire wolf pup is not only dire wolf that has escaped captivity, and likely it's unintentional introduction to UK soil won’t drastically affect the environment. Back to you, Tom.”
“Well that was an informative section from Janice. Now, onto other concerning measures. Escapee and mass murderer Sirius Black still roams the streets of England. He's been caught and sighted at multiple farms across the country, stealing chickens, clothing, and weapons. Experts are concerned with his rate of movement and traveling pattern, and believe that he is headed straight south towards London, likely to either his childhood home, or the scene of the crime. He should reach it within the week.
“Other news has-”
Vernon flicked off the TV.
Harry sighed, annoyed. Marge was over, so of course the section on some weird American wolf was perfectly fine to listen to, but the mass murderer on the run wasn't.
Honestly. Some people wanted to keep a lookout for danger! Harry had only gotten the barest glimpse of wild, ghost-blue eyes and tangled hair and a skeletal frame with pale skin. That could be anyone on the streets! He had tattoos, sure, and those were visible in the news pictures, but easily covered up. Some people actually had a vested interest in looking out for any potential murderers out there. Harry’d already had enough murder attempts for a decade.
Harry continued cooking dinner.