"Son, pay attention; keep your feet on the ground and stop climbing trees. miniature wolf, be careful where you put your paws, so you don't leave tracks. If you aren't going to eat them, leave the squirrels alone. miniature wolf, get over here and tell me what you can smell ... "
Dad's training from my childhood echoed in my mind as I moved through the nighttime woods. I took a deep breath, trying to dispel the memory of blood-tainted air. My eyes automatically sought the best path as I blinked back tears. I glided with ease through the bushes and scraggly underbrush in this part of the wilderness. Moonlight slipped through the leafy canopy, reflecting off the occasional rock that poked through the ground here and there. I avoided those pockets of luminescence without even thinking about it.
I traveled by instinct, my paws barely touching the ground. My mind was unable to focus on my surroundings. I hadn't wandered these woods since the night my mom died a year ago. Memories of my dad's desperate howl, my mother's mangled body, filled my mind. I shook my head to dispel the memory as I headed deeper into the forest, where the hardwoods grew more prominent, and the underbrush was less pervasive.
There was a way to move Dad simply referred to as gliding, a smooth loping pace low to the ground. He often made fun of Mom when she called it ghosting. I focused on my paws as I remembered the many times she and I would go hiking when I was younger, just to practice.
"Ghost with me, miniature wolf, " Mom would say. "Flit across the floor of the forest like a free-moving spirit wisping through the trees."
Are you ghosting with me now, Mom?
A silver streak flashed in my periphery, making me lose my stride for a moment. Dad would have my hide for getting distracted. I focused more on my surroundings, hoping to catch another glimpse of whoever was in the forest with me tonight. It couldn't have been my dad, whose fur was solid black.
A sad, drawn-out howl had me gathering speed. All of my senses strained toward my dad's cry. I sought the hills and ridges above the river, not far from where my mom's life had ended.
When I caught my cousin's scent, I smiled slightly, my canines glistening in the moonlight. Running Elk had helped take the edge off my grief. His constant pestering during the past year reinforced the sense of family within me, letting me know I wasn't alone.
Somehow I wasn't surprised he chose tonight, of all nights, to spend in the wilderness. Grandfather had pressured me for a few years to seek my spirit guide, a task at which I had failed. I figured my cousin had recently experienced the same harassment from our elder. The only reason I could think of for Running Elk to be out alone like this, in the middle of this particular night without confiding in me, was him attempting to acquire his spirit guide.
Despite the attention Running Elk had given me during the summer, I missed Dad's companionship. It had become common for Dad to take off during the past year for a night or two, but this last time he'd been out for almost a month. Dad had been more on edge as the anniversary of
Mom's death approached. The level of grief in Dad's howl made me wonder if I would be able to break through his inner turmoil and bring him home.
A different howl off to my left, announcing the presence of another wolf, made me pick up my pace. A third howl from behind me sent chills up my spine. These woods were part of my family's territory. There hadn't been any ordinary, regular wolves around here for a long time.
I kept waiting for Dad to respond to the invading pack. The hoot of an owl rang through the night, and leaves rustled from the breeze flowing through the trees, but nothing from my dad. I headed to higher ground, moving around the gullies that would slow me down. My paws scrambled against loose pebbles as I dug my claws into the ground for leverage.
Two more howls, then another, quickly followed by three more, revealed the size of the unknown pack. I altered my path, heading toward the direction Running Elk had taken. Relief flooded me when I came across my cousin's trail. Nose to the ground,I sprinted toward the place where my mother, River Woman, had breathed her last. There was no way I was going to let my cousin alone with a real wolf pack around, no matter the spiritual importance of his solitary journey into the wilderness.
I let out a call of my own, two attention-getting yaps followed by my short howl, as I caught a more substantial, fresher whiff of my cousin's scent. Come on, Dad, I thought, you have to know he's here. I can't protect him from a whole wolf pack on my own! I came to a sudden stop, snout to face the son of my mother's brother.
I think I just scared ten years of growth out of you, cuz, I thought with a grin.
The two of us stared at each other a moment, man and beast when we were both startled by a humorous snort coming from the rise above us. I sat back on my haunches, wagging my tail at the big black shadow that separated itself from a nearby bush. Eyes reflecting moonlight stared down at us. My dad only showed himself briefly before sliding back out of view.
Really Dad?
I looked up at my cousin, who had no idea the beast in front of him was anything more than a wolf. I tried to hold back my grin, not wanting to alarm Running Elk with my mouthful of canine teeth. How often when we were boys would we pounce at each other, becoming a tangle of arms and legs? We would wrestle around pretending to be wolves until my mom came out with snacks. I wagged my tail again, hoping to reassure my cousin.
To be continued.......
I wished I had a way to carry my phone so I could capture the look of fear and confusion on Running Elk's face.A low growl had me spinning around, hackles raised. I placed myself squarely in front of my human cousin. The light grey timber-wolf facing me was showing teeth and hanging low, testing boundaries.I became aware of the rest of the invading pack circling us. My cousin cussed and stepped closer to the short wall of dirt behind him. Two more males, both darker grey than the leader, and a rarer russet-colored female ranged nearby. The old silver I had glimpsed earlier was off to the side and above them. And, there, the sixth timber wolf, a female about to have a litter, hung back behind her mate.This pack was challenging for den territory. They wouldn't understand that my dad and I didn't care about the region as they did. My unwanted opponent growled again, stepping forward. My shoulder blades tingled as my hackles rose. I snarled back at my adversary.Out of the corner of my
Things became awkward fast. I let go of my cousin's shoulder and stepped back a bit. I could tell Running Elk needed a moment to take it all in."You ok?" I asked with concern.Running Elk shook his head, taking half a step backward. It took a moment before words managed to spit their way out my cousin's throat. "Ok? Damn, miniature wolf, you always played up the wolf you were named after, but to actually be ... "Running Elk paused, his eyes a little glassy and his breath unsteady. I gave him a small smile. The times I'd daydreamed about showing someone what Iwas couldn't compare to having revealed it to my cousin this way. The nervous fear I could smell wafting from him had me worried."I'm still me, " I reassured him. "You've known me your whole life. Me being able to become a wolf doesn't change who I am, who I've always been."My words seemed to soothe him. He snorted."True, you've always been ... wolfish."We shared a grin, remembering our childhood.When we played hide-and-see
"Been thinking of wearing a doggie backpack," I told him."Hard to put that on as a wolf by yourself," he replied.Instead of answering, I started shifting my body. It's natural for me to begin with my feet when I'm doing a total shift. Concentration and practice, which my dad had insisted upon as he taught me, were essential for changing just part of yourself. I focused on my shoulder, making me look for a moment like a misshapen creature right out of some horror movie, before going on to my hand.Mom had insisted on teaching me animal anatomy, which is very different from human anatomy. She'd been the best vet in the area. How often had she drilled me on this? I could hear her gentle voice explaining how joints on four legs work at different angles. So, shift shoulder, elbow ... ehh ... keep human wrist, get a combo of paw and fingers ... I went back to full human."Working on it," I told Running Elk.From the look on his face, Running Elk was trying not to throw up. I didn't say an
Loping back toward home in the predawn darkness, shoulder to shoulder with my dad, gave me a sense of comfort and completeness. We Had connected up during the night, getting to know our new neighbors. Dad and I had left the new pack behind, the two of us mock-fighting, hunting for small game and playing together.Dad and I were so close physically that our shoulders or sides touched most of the time. We would part for the occasional leap over an obstacle then come back together again, both of us needing that closeness. We had the same pace, and similar heights now. Dad was still huskier than me, and I was a bit taller in the shoulder than him. I could only hope that we would be closer emotionally as well. I know he loved me, but the last year, especially the last few months, had been hard and lonely with Mom gone.Our home was on the outskirts of our little community, right up against a stand of trees. Dad led the way along the row of bushes to the opening in the crawl space under our
"Glasses," he commanded, motioning with his chin while his hands opened the mustard.I could tell by the glance he gave at the empty sink he realized I hadn't bothered using a glass while drinking down the carton. I could almost hear what Mom would say every time she thought I was sneaking a drink without using a glass. Dad was silent as he gave the milk a quick sniff to make sure it hadn't spoiled.He emptied the last of it into the two glasses I set on the counter."I'll go shopping once the stores open," Dad said.There was a pause, with closed eyes on his part, as if he was pulling himself together still. When he opened them, he picked up the milk glass, raising it as if making a toast."Congratulations on getting a response from those many applications you filled out," he said.A slight smile like old times touched his lips before he hid his disappointment at me leaving him soon. I think he just realized he needed me as much as I needed him."I know you've worked hard. Which comp
I didn't feel like listening to another lecture, especially without Mom around to keep things from exploding between my dad and me. I also didn't want to lose the camaraderie my dad and I had tentatively found. He sounded tired and looked drained, but managed to pull on hidden reserves to get him through this.The way he was looking at me wasn't his usual condescending smirking glare, nor was it the demanding drill instructor, the no-nonsense-tolerated, stiff-ass attitude I often got from him when he taught me anything about being one with the wolf.It took me a second to realize he was going to try and speak to me like an adult, someone of equal standing. It's about time, I thought triumphantly. I took a breath and leaned forward a bit myself. I didn't trust myself to say anything other than, "I'm listening."Dad gave me a small, wane smile. I was sure his usual way of talking to me was ready to come out the second I acted immaturely enough, in his opinion, to blow it. His self-depre
"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.
I took a moment while out of Dad's view to wince and rub my shoulder. I stuffed the very wrinkled bag in the back of my sock drawer without even looking at it. Peeling off the ripped shirt, I threw it in a corner. I had to bend over some to take a look at my shoulder in my dresser mirror. Touching it gingerly, I knew I was going to be sore for the next few days.No clean shirts left in my room, which meant nothing to hide the bruise that was working its way across my shoulder. I resented that grip but knew I wouldn't have stayed if it hadn't been there. And I had promised to listen.I demanded to be treated like a man and got more than I bargained for.His words about possibly becoming a rapist came back to me. He never said he had, only that the struggle in a crowded city was too much for him, how finding mom had been a godsend.I didn't want to ask, but at the same time, I was desperate to ask, to be reassured that my dad was who I always thought he was.It was my turn to try and st