16. Running Wild

Paul’s wolf - Runcu village

I have no other option than to grudgingly accept being petted and laughed at. My self-esteem is lacking, not being able to even raise my ears again. The only good thing is that my pack isn’t around and that my human has declared this area off-limits to all wolves. I’ll die of embarrassment if any word of this comes out.

After the little girl leaves with her father, I flick my tail, creating the momentum to shake my whole body. My instinct tells me this way I get rid of all those humiliating fondles and scratching, but I know the moment will remain there like a scar for life.

“Come on. Let’s go to the shop where the girl went missing.” Laura starts walking in front of me, and I follow.

Humans claim that wolves are colorblind or that we only perceive black, white, and gray. They couldn't be more wrong. Even if I only see blues and yellows, the tapestry of colors is beautiful and merges well.

I instinctively tilt my head, watching Laura. Her hair has an intense color unlike anything I’ve seen before. This is how red looks like? Now even I want to sniff her more thoroughly and begin to understand my human’s attraction toward her.

Increasing my pace, I walk beside her now. The sadness on her face strikes me. I want to bump my head on her leg to make her feel better. That’s the way I do it with other pack members to comfort them and let them know they’re not alone. But she’s not one of us, and I know it. My human shouts inside, "She’s a strigoi," and he’ll keep at it as long as it’s needed until it sticks inside our minds.

My pack loves to play, shouldering one another, bumping bodies together, flopping tails over each other's backs, and leaping up, placing forepaws around each other's necks. I miss all that and more. While pups play to develop their strength and hunting skills, adult wolves stage mock fights, play chase, and leap on each other. The ambushing of unwary pack members is a favorite game. Sometimes I join in, sometimes I just watch, remembering that I miss having a mate to share everything with.

“Do you want to run?” Laura asks, breaking the silence between us.

I look up, eager to escape the confines of this village and go back into the forest.

"We all run for something, but we'll have to stop at some point."

Now I'm starting to believe she's talking about her, not me.

As I follow Laura down the narrow street, I make sure to keep an eye on the surroundings. It wouldn't do to be caught off guard by anyone. I notice a small, furry animal scurrying through the bushes. A cat, by the smell of it. I want to chase it, but my human won't let me. I growl, disapproving of him having the last word even when we're in this form.

In front of a locked store, it smells of fresh bread and apples. Laura stops and leans down to me, with her hand holding the scarf outstretched. “Can you find the girl?”

I look up to let her know I’m up for the task. But I sure hope she won’t ask me many questions for the love of my neck. Only when I howl at the moon, do I stretch like this.

Using my pointed muzzle, I sniff the scarf. A minty scent comes from the object and arouses my senses. A faint trail starts from the small shop toward the forest. It's strong enough, so there's no way I can't track it. 

I give a loud bark to show her who's still in command here. There is less snoring coming from within the homes now, and I'm satisfied. Obviously, she doesn't have the same hearing as I have, but that doesn't stop her from scowling at me.

I start running, following the scent. I hear the rustling sound of her dress as she runs after me, but I stay focused on the trail. Once in the forest, I feel more at ease. Even though I don’t know if Laura can keep up the pace, I’m not stopping to wait for her. My vision is perfect even in the almost complete darkness under the canopy.

The sprint brings the change of pace my brain has been missing. I feel free outside of my city, running wild. My human agrees. No more suits and worldly constraints. My claws are strong and sharp because the tips are not worn off by constant contact with the ground like they would be for a normal wolf. Being in this form only three nights a month has its advantages. I use my claws to mark the trees, leaving behind a trail that Laura can follow.

Even in this form, with our senses heightened and free in the wilderness, my human thinks of her and his feelings come rushing toward me. I can't stop thinking of her—the wide arch of her eyebrows that frames her turquoise eyes, the paleness of her skin. And her mouth. Her words always carry a slight sting, but they come from such beautiful lips.

I come to a halt. Another fragrance mingles with the one I'm following. It smells nasty and horrible, much like a strigoi. Laura is the only one who doesn't smell like rotten meat. As I approach, I notice a decaying wooden structure. The windows are closed with large, tin-covered planks, creating the ideal setting for a strigoi to hide. In the absence of the girl's scent, I would not have been able to find this place, shrouded in bushes and deep within a ravine.

It also smells of blood, old and new. I have to tread with care since my bite is lethal to a strigoi, and the Council will cause problems if I were to kill one of them. Maybe Laura will talk with him and make him come willingly with us. 

The perfume of lilac mingles with the other scents, spinning about me. Excellent timing! But something is wrong. I can hear her teeth gnashing before I even see her. In the full moon's light, her eyes twinkle. I've seen it in the eyes of other strigois, a craving for blood, an uncontrollable need. What happened to her?