That was it—my mind was made up. Icouldn’t leave an animal to suffer like that—even a dangerous onethat might hurt me.
I had to let it in.
ChapterFour—Wolf
Hurts. It hurts. Ithurts ithurtsithurts. Thoughts are not clear when I am Wolf but that is alwaystrue. I am running, trying to get away from the pain in my leg butI can’t, o, I can’t. The wind coming through the trees tells meother wolves are there, other wolves are following. Do they know Iam hurt? Are they closing in for the kill?
Instinct sends me home, to thewooded house the man built. He/I—we share this body. Sometimesanother shares it too but I don’t like to think of him. The almostWolf. The in-between one. He frightens me until I want to bitesomeone, to gnaw my way out of the danger and run and run andrun.
I reach the edge of the woods andsee the man-house standing there in the first light of dawn. I wantto go toward it but something tells me not to—a message, distantbut direct, coming from the man who is somewhere far in the back ofmy head.
“Don’t go nearthe house. Leave the girl alone.”
I howl in pain and confusion.
What girl? Why should I care abouther? The man-house means safety, refuge from the hunting pack thatmay or may not be chasing me. And maybe even a stop to the pain,the sharp, piercing agony that grips my left foreleg and won’t letgo.
I want to go to the house. I canfeel the man in the back of my head, watching me, telling me no.The impulse he sends to stay away tries to stop me again but thistime I ignore it. The house is safety. The house means no morepain.
But when I get there, the woodendoor is shut. Why is it shut? The man always leaves it open for me.He knows I walk the day sometimes, keeping the body we share longerthan I truly should. He leaves the door open and some meat on thefloor, in case I haven’t caught anything during my hunt. But notthis time—this time it is shut.
I push against the door, rattlingit in the frame. The silver biter digging its teeth into my pawhurts more with every minute. Why can’t I come in? I want to comein!
I lift my head and howl, givingvoice to my frustration and pain. Let me in! Please let me in!
Suddenly, a miracle—the dooropens. I start to go to it…and stop. Standing there is a girl, butnot just any girl—a dead one. A growl starts to build in my throat.Wolves don’t like dead ones. They are not right—not natural. Myinstincts say they shouldn’t exist. I do not like things thatshould not exist—they confuse and frighten me.
The dead one is pale with big,sky-colored eyes—a pale girl. What is she doing in the man-house?Why is she in the place the man and I share?
I growl at her again but the palegirl doesn’t seem frightened—or at least, I don’t catch the scentof fear from her. She crouches down and whispers to me, calling meby a name that sounds familiar. The man’s name? I cock my head toone side, trying to understand. Slowly, I limp-hop a stepforward.
“That’s it.” Thepale girl’s voice is soft and coaxing. It sounds nice…soothing. Shecalls me from the doorway and I take another hobbling step forward.Her scent is stronger now and I take a deep whiff. Funny, shedoesn’t smell much like a dead one. But she doesn’t smell humaneither. She smells…she smells almost like another Wolf. Whichdoesn’t make any sense. How can a dead one be a Wolf?
“Come on, boy.Come on,” the pale girl coaxes. I am almost to the door now butwhen she reaches for me I am suddenly frightened. I don’t knowher—how can I trust her?
I jump back outinto the yard and give a short, painful yip as the silverbiter grinds its teeth in my paw. Hurts. O, it hurts and hurts andhurts. Please, make it stop. Make it stop hurting!
The pale girl is still crouched inthe doorway. She looks up at the sky and now I smell a fear scenton her. But she isn’t frightened of me—she is scared of somethingin the sky. The sun? The light? It is getting brighter andbrighter—soon it will be day. I should leave and let the man takeover but somehow I can’t. I am stuck, as I have been many timesbefore.
The pale girl looks stuck too. Shewants me to come to her but I cannot—I fear her touch. I fear thepain in my paw. I fear I will be stuck forever and the man willnever come forward again.
The girl looks up at the sky oncemore and seems to make up her mind. Slowly, carefully, she stepsoutside, past the doorway. At once her fair skin begins to blister.I see the pain in her eyes and smell the hurt in her scent but shedoesn’t shout or cry or run away. Instead, she walks slowly towardme, talking softly in that soothing voice.
I am beginning to like that voice.Beginning to like it very much.
“Come on, boy,”the pale girl whispers, holding out her hand to me. “Please comein. I can’t be out here much longer, the sun is almost up. Please,just come in and let me help you.”
Her voice is kind and her scent isright. I make a decision. Going forward, I butt my head gentlyagainst her knees. The pale girl strokes me, her fingers gentle inmy fur. I shiver all over—she is good. I know it now—the pale girlmeans me no harm. She will help me—she is part of the house. Partof the safety and the end of pain.
I let her lead me in.
* * * **
Taylor
I sighed in relief when the wolffinally moved past me into the house. I didn’t know if it wasVictor
