Status: We are what we are; don't need no excuses for the scars from our mothers, and we know what we know 'cause we're made of all the little bones of our fathers.
The Last Wolf
Chapter Twenty
A litter of baby rabbits followed us along the edge of the small pond. We sat cross legged on the edge of the bank as the rabbits ventured closer to us. After about twenty minutes of sniffing and backing away the smallest rabbit let me stroke its fur while the biggest leaped into Macon’s arms. The smallest rabbit fit in the palm of my hand. Its whiskers tickled the tips of my fingers as it nosed each curve of my hand. Macon held the biggest like a kitten. “You know, that’s the technical name for a baby rabbit. Kitten, or kit,” he whispered as he stroked its snow white fur.
I swirled the smoky fur of the bunny as he nudged my fingers with his nibbling nose and wiry whiskers. A laugh escaped my lips as the bunnies’ mother bounded between Macon and me. She nudged my knee with her paws until I put her baby in front of her. “They are adorable,” I sighed with relish. My heart seemed to float on one of the cottony clouds dancing on the slow breeze. I lay back against the warm, vibrant grass while my surroundings seemed to take a deep breath with me.
“This is how I belong,” Macon whispered as he placed his rabbit next to its mother and sibling. “It’s hard to belong with shifters when you’re not like them, but this helps.”
“They’re so welcoming.” I rolled my eyes as a cloud shaped like Pegasus formed above me. “I don’t understand any of it. The shifters can do anything they want—yeah, they have they’re favorites—but why would they want to hang around with two pretty much broken werewolves.” The rant poured from my deceptive lips. I didn’t want the wind to carry those words to his ears, but it snatched them from me.
“Speak for yourself.” Macon blocked my view of the clouds. He placed one arm next to my heart as he leaned over me. A smirk filled his features making him seem more like Raider. “I’m not a broken werewolf; my batteries just haven’t kicked in yet.”
“Trust me,” I stated while creasing my brow, “you don’t want them too.”
“What’s so bad,” he sighed and leaned back, removing his hand, “is so bad about changing?”
I thought for a long moment. How could she tell him that the bones snapping out of joint felt like someone grinding a jagged rock against your nose after it had been broken in two places? Your skin burns like fire as the thick fur bursts through your sensitive skin giving the sensation that someone has set you ablaze and threw itchy hay on top. She couldn’t tell him that the absolute worst part about the change was the fact that it was uncontrollable. No matter who you’re with, no matter what you’re doing, it will happen. The moon will take control and all inhibitions, all sense of who you are, fly out of the window, and all you want is for your insides to stop burning long enough for you to think straight. The only think that helps the sting, the pain, is the metallic bittersweet taste of that crimson liquid that seemed to call you like the Sirens calls the pirates to the rocky shores for their demise.
A lone tear made its way out of the corner of my eye as the pain of the change and the guilt brought on by the spilt blood swirled in my memories. “It’s torture,” I stated before turning my face away from him.
“Is it really that bad?”
“What makes you think it’s so great?” I wiped the tears away on the hem of my shirt before I faced him again. “Why do you want this so bad?”
“Didn’t you feel it?” Macon’s eyes focused on mine. He leaned over me again. “Something wasn’t whole inside you before the change, right? You weren’t complete. Remember the terrible immune system from your childhood, Dahlia.” He leaned closer to my face. “That was your inner wolf cub trying to fit itself into your human skin.”
“For me, it was like I didn’t belong in my family…” I trailed off remembering the punch of the industrial broom stick against my ribs. “With those people,” I growled and bolted upright. The birds stopped singing, the rabbits took cover, and the deer ran to their
Macon held out his arms with his palms facing me. Nothing about the gesture offered me peace, but his mouth was set with the corners tilting just slightly while he bowed his head enough to offer an apology while keeping a close eye on me. He took slow, deliberate steps in my direction. “Just, calm down. Okay?” He whispered. I rolled my eyes and sighed as I laid back again.
“Don’t treat me like I’m having a temper tantrum.” I glared at the newly shaped cloud. A howling white wolf billowed across the sky on the wings of the wind.
“Then don’t have a temper tantrum.” Macon chuckled.
I turned my glare on him as I stood from my comfortable palate of grass. “It was a good day…” I trailed off as my glare eased into my detrimental sadness. “Before this conversation happened.”
“I-“ Macon started, but I shook my head.
“Take me back now. I don’t want to ruin the peace here for the others.” I crossed my arms over my chest and tapped my foot impatiently.
“Okay,” Macon whispered as he lowered his head and headed in the direction of the golden glow cast by late afternoon sun.
The black fur of his once shadow like coat burned with the crimson stains over his shoulder and hind leg. He couldn’t move. Not because of his injuries, but because of the snarling beast that dug its talons into his raw wounds. Whimpers secreted from his jowls taking away every ounce of dignity he clung to. The beast made a noise that reeked of victory over the bloodied shadow’s body before its relentless talon pulled from the gaping hole it left deep within his muscle tissue.
The wings retracted into long muscular arms followed by the talons dissipating into lanky fingers. A man stood before the bloodied wolf with a sinister smile plastered across his lips. Colt whined as he lifted his head with watery eyes. “Come on, puppy,” the man cooed mockingly. “Is that all you’ve got.” He laughed as he lowered himself close to Colt’s face. “I thought you took after mom—her strong survival skills and those awful lack of control issues.” He sneered. “Not like dad, and his weak ability to shift into a bird every now and again when,” the man made a gesture like he was sipping a drink, “the spirits gave him a little liquid courage.”
Colt coughed and spit a little blood towards the gloating tyrant. He wanted to jump from the ground, snarling, and fight his way out of this mess. The light couldn’t be seen from his tragic place on the hard ground.
“You know what I want, Shadow.” The man’s face contorted with rage and disgust as the last word left his mouth. “Now, show me.”
I swirled the smoky fur of the bunny as he nudged my fingers with his nibbling nose and wiry whiskers. A laugh escaped my lips as the bunnies’ mother bounded between Macon and me. She nudged my knee with her paws until I put her baby in front of her. “They are adorable,” I sighed with relish. My heart seemed to float on one of the cottony clouds dancing on the slow breeze. I lay back against the warm, vibrant grass while my surroundings seemed to take a deep breath with me.
“This is how I belong,” Macon whispered as he placed his rabbit next to its mother and sibling. “It’s hard to belong with shifters when you’re not like them, but this helps.”
“They’re so welcoming.” I rolled my eyes as a cloud shaped like Pegasus formed above me. “I don’t understand any of it. The shifters can do anything they want—yeah, they have they’re favorites—but why would they want to hang around with two pretty much broken werewolves.” The rant poured from my deceptive lips. I didn’t want the wind to carry those words to his ears, but it snatched them from me.
“Speak for yourself.” Macon blocked my view of the clouds. He placed one arm next to my heart as he leaned over me. A smirk filled his features making him seem more like Raider. “I’m not a broken werewolf; my batteries just haven’t kicked in yet.”
“Trust me,” I stated while creasing my brow, “you don’t want them too.”
“What’s so bad,” he sighed and leaned back, removing his hand, “is so bad about changing?”
I thought for a long moment. How could she tell him that the bones snapping out of joint felt like someone grinding a jagged rock against your nose after it had been broken in two places? Your skin burns like fire as the thick fur bursts through your sensitive skin giving the sensation that someone has set you ablaze and threw itchy hay on top. She couldn’t tell him that the absolute worst part about the change was the fact that it was uncontrollable. No matter who you’re with, no matter what you’re doing, it will happen. The moon will take control and all inhibitions, all sense of who you are, fly out of the window, and all you want is for your insides to stop burning long enough for you to think straight. The only think that helps the sting, the pain, is the metallic bittersweet taste of that crimson liquid that seemed to call you like the Sirens calls the pirates to the rocky shores for their demise.
A lone tear made its way out of the corner of my eye as the pain of the change and the guilt brought on by the spilt blood swirled in my memories. “It’s torture,” I stated before turning my face away from him.
“Is it really that bad?”
“What makes you think it’s so great?” I wiped the tears away on the hem of my shirt before I faced him again. “Why do you want this so bad?”
“Didn’t you feel it?” Macon’s eyes focused on mine. He leaned over me again. “Something wasn’t whole inside you before the change, right? You weren’t complete. Remember the terrible immune system from your childhood, Dahlia.” He leaned closer to my face. “That was your inner wolf cub trying to fit itself into your human skin.”
“For me, it was like I didn’t belong in my family…” I trailed off remembering the punch of the industrial broom stick against my ribs. “With those people,” I growled and bolted upright. The birds stopped singing, the rabbits took cover, and the deer ran to their
Macon held out his arms with his palms facing me. Nothing about the gesture offered me peace, but his mouth was set with the corners tilting just slightly while he bowed his head enough to offer an apology while keeping a close eye on me. He took slow, deliberate steps in my direction. “Just, calm down. Okay?” He whispered. I rolled my eyes and sighed as I laid back again.
“Don’t treat me like I’m having a temper tantrum.” I glared at the newly shaped cloud. A howling white wolf billowed across the sky on the wings of the wind.
“Then don’t have a temper tantrum.” Macon chuckled.
I turned my glare on him as I stood from my comfortable palate of grass. “It was a good day…” I trailed off as my glare eased into my detrimental sadness. “Before this conversation happened.”
“I-“ Macon started, but I shook my head.
“Take me back now. I don’t want to ruin the peace here for the others.” I crossed my arms over my chest and tapped my foot impatiently.
“Okay,” Macon whispered as he lowered his head and headed in the direction of the golden glow cast by late afternoon sun.
The black fur of his once shadow like coat burned with the crimson stains over his shoulder and hind leg. He couldn’t move. Not because of his injuries, but because of the snarling beast that dug its talons into his raw wounds. Whimpers secreted from his jowls taking away every ounce of dignity he clung to. The beast made a noise that reeked of victory over the bloodied shadow’s body before its relentless talon pulled from the gaping hole it left deep within his muscle tissue.
The wings retracted into long muscular arms followed by the talons dissipating into lanky fingers. A man stood before the bloodied wolf with a sinister smile plastered across his lips. Colt whined as he lifted his head with watery eyes. “Come on, puppy,” the man cooed mockingly. “Is that all you’ve got.” He laughed as he lowered himself close to Colt’s face. “I thought you took after mom—her strong survival skills and those awful lack of control issues.” He sneered. “Not like dad, and his weak ability to shift into a bird every now and again when,” the man made a gesture like he was sipping a drink, “the spirits gave him a little liquid courage.”
Colt coughed and spit a little blood towards the gloating tyrant. He wanted to jump from the ground, snarling, and fight his way out of this mess. The light couldn’t be seen from his tragic place on the hard ground.
“You know what I want, Shadow.” The man’s face contorted with rage and disgust as the last word left his mouth. “Now, show me.”
♠ ♠ ♠
It's been FOREVER since I've updated. I'm sorry guys. I just had so much going on for Christmas and family stuff... it's been crazy here. I hope you guys had an awesome Christmas (or whatever you celebrate in place of Christmas :D), and have an an amazing new year. Here's to the best year ever, and hopefully to an epic ending for this story. I think it's almost time to let you guys in on what's going down in the Shape Shifters' world.
