The first spring and summer of a young wolf's life pass in frolic and dependency, but with fall comes a crucial initiation into adulthood, as the pups join in the hunt. Pursuing large ungulates, armed with nothing but your teeth, is a dangerous and exacting occupation. The youngsters have much to learn. The first stage in their apprenticeship has been pouncing on mice and bugs back at the den and rendezvous site; the second stage will be watching the adults.

In a book called, The Muskoxen of Polar Bear Pass, by David R. Gray, it tells of a wintery September day when he and a group of colleagues watched six wolves, including two pups, trot towards a herd of twelve muskoxen towards massive, swinging horns and heavy, slashing front hooves backed by an average body weight of more than 3,000 kilograms (700 pounds). Travelling in singel file, the wolves approached to within about a hundred metres of the herd, which grouped, then separated. As it shifted around, one wolf lay down as two others circled the milling herd." Most of the muskoxen turned and fled, but the dominant bull faced his attackers. A wolf rushed at him, and the herd returned to stand together, shoulder to shoulder, in a defensive phalanx.

By now, several adult wolves were running loops around the closely grouped herd, while the pups stood quietly on teh sidelines. Then two huge muskoxen lunged at one of the adult wolves. The adult backed off for a moment, then boldly renewed its attack, but the youngsters sped away with their tails between their legs. Whenever a muskox charged out at a wolf, another wolf rushed in and tried to cut it out of the herd, but the muskox always quickly regrouped in formation. Four minutes after the attack began, the wolves gave up and went to join the pups. "The herd remained grouped tightly together as all the wolves lay down to rest."

In many ways, this was a typical wolf hunt: dramatic yet inconclusive, coordinated yet far from rigdly disciplined. Each wolf took advantage of opportunities created by another's attack, as together they attempted to isolate a muskox from the protection of the group. On other occasions, wolves have been known to adopt even more elaborate strategies that imply an ability not just for quick response but also for forethought. For example, one wolf may act as a decoy, by attacking and dashing around, while the rest of the pack moves in unnoticed to catch the prey off guard. Or sometimes one or two wolves run beyond their quarry and hide, out of sight. When the rest of the pack sets the prey in motion, this advance guard waits in ambush to attack. Once a kill is made, everyone shares in it.

When humans carry out coordinated strategies, their actions are usually the result of formal planning. But wolves cannot hold councils and talk their way to a consensus. Instead, each individual must decide for itself how to react, selecting from amoung its innate and learned hunting behaviours, and reacting to specific circumstances. What is the lie of the land? How is the prey responding? What actions have the other wolves, especially the high-ranking leaders, begun to take? We do not know how wolves make these quick and complex choices without benefit of language, but we know they do it.

Obviously, a hunt requires focus, concentration, commitment. Yet it's not uncommon for wolves to break off for a short period of observation or rest ("one wolf lay down as two others circled the milling herd"), or to give up the attempt altogether even when it seems to a human observer that the predators still have a chance of success. Were Gray's wolves not hungry enough to press the attack (they did have a carcass nearby), or could they sense that it would be a waste of energy to proceed? Just because wolves want to kill an animal does not mean they will be able to. After all, they and their prey have evolved together, and in response to one another, for countless generations. Every advance in the wolves' ability to kill has been offset by an advance in their prey's ability to stay alive.