Batclaw let out a growl as he approached the bush. It smelled like a new wolf. And not one of any of the clans he associated his pack with.

He was especially on edge as the new wolf was near the den where Softpaw was resting. And he’d be damned if someone hurt his mate while she was pregnant with his pups.

Batclaw became a pillar in the Gotham National Park. After wolves began dying out around their state, officials desperately tried to save Batclaw’s breed. He remembers the way he felt when the poachers killed his parents. And he’d couldn’t imagine how the wolves whom lost their entire packs felt.

So Batclaw took charge and created his own misfit pack to protect the wolves who were brought to the sanctuary.

With his pack came the pups. Nightfang, Redpelt, Ravenmaw, and his littlest pup, Dawnclaw. His packmates liked teasing that he was weak for the little furballs. You just needed to breathe near the old dog and he’d pamper the little pup way past pampering age.

So when he snapped at the wolf in the bush and a confused puppy tumbled out he froze.

“What are you doing in my territory? Where’s your pack little one..?”

He smelled the vets on the young one. He assumed it’d been dropped off with some other new wolves and managed to slip away from the quarantine area.

Well, it appears Batclaw has a new pup once more.