/ Werewolf / The last Guardian / Chapter 7: Aftermath

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Chapter 7: Aftermath

작가: Six Roses
last update 최신 업데이트: 2023-10-21 00:51:58

** authors note Okt. 20th 2023:  dea readers, I have rewritten chapter 6 and added parts that will be absolutely crucial to the story line, if you’ve already read chapter six, please re-read it before starting chapter 7. My apologies for the inconvenience**

Tara’s P.o.v.

 Did I really just dream that whole thing,  did I actually fall asleep on the sofa last night and have my mind just conjure up the entire part of barely sleeping, the walk, that strange voice that came from seemingly nowhere and the horror that ensued after? It would explain why I thought I saw a black bear further south than those animals have ever been reported and why I heard that voice without anyone being near,… it doesn’t explain the splitting headache or how bruised my back feels though.  

Maybe I hit my head too hard when I fell and this is actually the delusion, that would make some sense, but then again, the whole thing in the woods is just too weird to be real, heck, even mister Mason giving me the day off is just too out of character for the man. That must be it! I fell asleep on the sofa and my mind just went rampant, it created two whole days of weirdness and impossible events! None of it was real, I’m certain of that now, it’s the only logical explanation. But as I get up, my back screams in agony, what the hell did I do?

I slowly and carefully make my way into the bathroom, it’s not just my back that hurts, it feels like I’ve been hit by a semi-truck. Letting my robe slide off my shoulders I try to take a look at my back but the mirror is just too small and to high up to see a thing while looking over my shoulder.

For the first time in almost 7 years, I wish I was back at my mother’s house, with the lavish bathroom and huge floor to ceiling mirror that covered nearly the entire wall. Back then I absolutely hated it since there was just no way to escape looking at yourself while taking a shower, unless of course you kept your eyes closed. Her appearance was the most important thing in the world to my mother, there were mirrors absolutely everywhere, if only her soul had been as beautiful as what those mirrors reflected back to her.

Not wanting to think about her, I shake my head in attempt to rid myself of the memories, oooff.. wrong move! With the way my head feels one would think I had a concussion at the very least. I gently run my fingers through my hair, looking for anything that doesn’t belong on my scalp, a bump, maybe dried blood even, but I feel nothing of the kind.

Did I drink last night? I don’t think I did, I’m not much of a drinker anyway so it’s doubtful. Checking the parts of my body I can actually see, I don’t find much to explain the way I’m feeling. There seems to be a small bruise on my knee, but it’s already starting to yellow so it must be a couple of days old already. I often bump into things at the diner so I’m not surprised, other than that single discoloration there is no visible evidence to explain the hurt I'm feeling. Though it’s dark outside and I have no idea what time it is, I decide to take a quick shower in the hopes of clearing my mind.

Putting on a pair of sweatpants and a soft hooded sweater I wander around the house. I still can’t explain what the hell happened, or didn’t happen. Everything seems to be in it’s usual place, it truly looks like I got home from work, did my usual routines, crawled on the sofa and fell asleep, that is until I step out on the porch, the large cup I drank my coffee out of on my unexpected day off, still sits on the small coffee table next to my rocking chair. I never drink coffee at night and don’t take the time to sit outside if I have to go to work. I look past the garden and indeed, my truck is not there, so it did break down and I did walk through the woods to town. That means I also must’ve had the weird interactions of that day and mister Mason actually did give me a day off. But if that’s the case, why was it pitch black outside now when it was late morning when I started out on my little hike and there definitely were a couple of hours of daylight left when I got to that pond. My mind is reeling, there is just no way all that my mind tells me happened, is real.

Movement catches my eye, and for a second I think I see a man standing just past the white picket fence, but when I turn my head and look in that direction, it’s a dog, a huge dog! Even from this distance I can see it’s in a rough state, the moonlight that reflects off of what little fur is left on its body gives him or her an almost silvery shine. The dog is skinny, like it hasn’t eaten in weeks and what appears to be blood covering big parts of its body, poor thing! The darkness of the night and the state the animal is in, makes it hard to determine what breed it is, all I know is that its big and it's hurt.

Remembering the grey flash that may or may not have saved me from what could be a bear or a figment of my imagination, I cautiously approach the injured animal, my heart filled with a mix of concern and determination. Its large frame towers over me, but it’s eyes hold a glimmer of trust, despite the pain it obviously endured. The poor creature whines as I get closer.

Careful to not scare it off I hunch down slightly further and stick my hand out, with the palm facing up. “Hi buddy” I coo, “are you ok? Can I have a look at your leg? “ in my mind I scoff at myself, like the animal is going to understand a word I’m saying, yeah right! But knowing that dogs do respond to voices and the tone used, I continue. "hey, come here, I won’t hurt you, it's all right, I just want to help." I coo to the animal again.

The skinny animal steps forward just a little, placing it’s enormous head in the palm of my hand and I’m sure, had it been a cat, it would have purred. There’s a sort of rumble coming from its chest, soft and friendly sounding, so I softly pet his head, stroking the soft fur and inching a little closer. “I’m going to take a look at that foot ok?” and as if understanding me, it actually lifts its paw. I determine that what I thought to be blood, is indeed blood and from the angle of its foot, I would say its broken but in the dim moonlight it’s nearly impossible to see how badly wounded it really is. If I’m going to treat this animal, I will have to get it up to the house, somehow.

With gentle whispers and reassuring gestures I coax the dog away from the garden fence and onto the safety of the porch, the bistro-style string lights I draped along the entire ceiling of my covered porch give off enough light to notice it’s a boy and truely assess the damage this sweet dog has sustained, his injuries are severe and not all of them seem recent, this dog has had a rough life by the looks of it. I fetch the first aid kit I keep in one of the kitchen cabinets and with steady hands examine each wound, I clean them meticulously, tenderly applying antiseptic solution and gently bandaging the deeper cuts.

Throughout the process, the dogs eyes met mine, a silent understanding passing between us.  As I worked, the dogs tense body gradually relaxed, its breathing growing calmer, I could sense the trust and gratitude in every gaze he directed my way. The wounds were now addressed and what looked like a broken paw, was probably just due to the angle he lifted it up in, the scarce light and the tufts of hair missing, it seems fine for now, but I’ll have to see what happens when he puts his weight on it.  Putting the first aid kit aside, I settle down on the porch, I’m sure the dog still needs solace and rest, giving him a reassuring pet and with a weary sigh, he rests his head upon my lap, its breathing growing deep and steady, the pain momentarily forgotten as sleep beckons him.

With a tender touch I stroke the bits of fur on his head, my presence offering comfort and security. As the Dog drifts into a peaceful slumber, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of connection. In this quiet moment, it was as if the world stopped to acknowledge the bond that had formed between us. Looking up I noticed the moon had started its descend and behind the trees I could see the oranges and reds of a new day dawning beginning to rise, and in that moment, I vowed to care for this gentle giant, to provide the love and healing it deserved. With a new found purpose, I remained by its side, ready to stand as a steadfast companion throughout the dog’s journey to recovery.

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