Wolf

Farra avoided the pack-meet for the rest of the day and all night, even declining an invitation to the hunt that evening. The absence of her presence made it the best pack-meet I’d been to in years. I was actually enjoying myself, something that has never happened before. My former pack members accepted me wholly, or at least as much as they could while still respecting my choice to sever all ties with them. We gorged ourselves on raw meat, bringing down a small herd of ten or so deer, and feasting on them right where we caught them. There wasn’t much left when we were done, besides bones, and we left whatever we couldn’t eat for the scavengers. I can actually accept being wolf when I’m with the rest of my kind; I didn’t leave because of them, just Farra. I always knew, instinctively, that Farra wasn’t meant to be an Alpha. It’s wrong, none of my pack is even supposed to exist; we’re abominations, freaks, if it was even suspected that the pack was out here, they would be destroyed. And Farra, that bitch, would squeal where I was before the Hunter slit her throat.

About halfway through the pack-meet, that is the second day, I had a chill; something bad was going to happen, maybe not now, but soon. I knew suddenly that I had to get back home, pack my shit, and split fast. The only people who didn’t seem upset to see me leave and were disappointed that I had to go so early, I made up some lame-ass mumbled excuse, was Farra (no surprise), and Sven (but I’ve mentioned that he’s not all that bright so I didn’t expect him to even notice me). Before I left I tipped off a good buddy of mine that I had a bad feeling and told him to spread the word to keep an eye out. He promised that he would and wished me luck, telling me to “travel safe.” I told him that I would, and that if I didn’t the Tooth would definitely assure my safety. We both had a good little laugh about that. The guy wouldn’t make a bad leader, if things were different he already would be.

I tried to take my time, but there was a feeling of being hunted that I couldn’t get rid of, no matter how hard I tried, and I ended up streaking through the forest like a pack of baying hounds were on my scent and thirsty for my blood. I’m such a coward.