A Father/Son Talk

"I don't hate you."

A partial truth. He was my father, and I loved him. I just hated his ongoing sermons and training. He was a wolf living in a human world.

I was a human who merely also happened to be able to live as a wolf. I grew up human, despite our family excursions as wolves. I was part of a deep and cultural human community. I had family beyond just him and mom. I was part of my mom's tribe, a connection with society Dad never had, and possibly, I realized, a connection he couldn't completely comprehend. I had an identity beyond being a wolf. I honestly couldn't see myself having any trouble out in the world.

My dad was right about me sharing mom's desire to learn, and his too. Teacher he might be, but in his heart, Dad was an eternal student.

Dad gave a little hmph as if he knew what I was thinking. He probably did, as often as we'd yelled it back and forth. But then Dad grinned a bit as he walked over and put his hand behind my head. He pulled on me until our foreheads met.