Howl

by Annalise Grey

  As the near scalding water ran over my flesh, I willed it to take away anymore thoughts of my nightmare. The small drain at my feet absorbed the little remnants of stress like a sponge, happily sucking it out of me. After toweling dry, I threw on my clothes and let myself out. I couldn't even think of waking Jaime for fear that it would trigger those images again.

  I fished around in my jacket pocket for my MP3 player, put the ear buds in, and pushed the volume button as high as my ears would permit. I made it home in time to see the first rays of sunlight slinking across the yard. Nobody was up yet when I crept in the door so I started the two pots of coffee and went up to my room to change, figuring it would be better to stay up rather than give the nightmare any more opportunity to slither in again.

  ~World apart~

  “Fifi, I’m going for a run tonight - you in?” Tristan used his childhood nickname for me from time to time.

  “Yeah, I’d love to.”

  “Cool. Thomas said the rangers are done their monthly sweep so we’re golden.”

  Though I didn’t say it, I already knew the sweeps were done for September. Jaime had talked of little else earlier in the week. The sweeps were when the rangers located the tagged animal populations and brought them in for check-ups as well as pulled in carcasses. It usually took only about three to five days but it was critical that we stay out of the forest at that time. Not only did we have to avoid killing and eating tagged animals but we had to minimalize and control the tracks we left before each sweep. Now that this sweep was done, we were free once again to hunt and run as we pleased.

  “Fantastic.”

  Gavin appeared around the corner. “You guys are talking about going hunting?”

  “Tonight. You want to join us?” Tristan asked.

  “No, I’ve some stuff around here to do. But listen, Thomas heard this afternoon that there was a suspected animal attack on a hiker near the Tionesta trail. He was told the guy is in a medically-induced coma and his wounds were pretty extensive. This is after another hiker went missing about two months ago and hasn't been heard from since. We don't know if these two incidents are related but we're keeping a look out just in case. The Game Commission has been notified but nothing is happening – yet. We’re monitoring the situation as best as we can but until we know more just keep your tracks limited and as far from any trails or roads as possible, got it?”

  Tristan and I both nodded grimly.

  “Whoa.” Tristan turned to me as Gavin headed out the kitchen door. “Trouble is definitely not what we need.”

  “Could have been a bear or a cougar.” I noted to my twin. “At least we have Thomas to keep us informed. Not sure what other packs do without spies.”

  “True.” He nodded. “Anyway, I’m off to the lumber yard with Gavin. We’re taking in some trees we felled this morning so I might not see you before dinner.” He gave me a fist bump before departing.

  “I meet you by the creek at dark.” I hollered just as the kitchen door shut.

  *

  As night fell heavy around the forest, I slipped quickly through the trees. Heart racing with excitement, I skipped over fallen branches and swatted away the gnats as they encircled my face. I frequently told my family I was hunting but instead I used my time to see Jaime. In reality it had been at least two months since I’d been out running. I missed the feeling of dashing through the trees, catching the scent of rabbit, deer, foxes, and more, following the trails to their belly-filling conclusion.

  “Took you long enough.” Tristan sat on a massive slab of worn-down rock along the creek’s edge which surrounded the clearing I had just crossed. This was sacred space to my family. Peaceful and secluded, there were no roads this far into the forest. This was where we met to run, hunt, and gather away from home. Better to control tracks leading to the house this way.

  Grinning, Tristan stood up and tore off his shirt, running off into the shadows. Alone in the open field, I slithered out of my sneakers and socks, then jeans. I slid my top off and dropped it onto the crumpled pile. After unhooking my bra and wiggling out of my panties, I stood for a moment in the open clearing, naked, soaking up every noise of the surrounding forest. Bubbling water over the creek bed, the scurrying of the opossums and raccoons to my right, a cougar crying in the distance – no more than a mile away.

  I took a deep breath. This night was supreme. The air was fresh and just cool enough to send a ripple of goose bumps over my bare skin as a breeze floated past me. The Harvest Moon was waning in its brilliance being a day past its peak. Still, the silvery light illuminated the open field of patchy hay grass and wildflowers before me on into the thickness of woods beyond.

  Even the sky above was clearer than it had been for days. The storm that had brewed earlier in the week left almost no evidence of it’s having been there at all. The ground underfoot took in every drop of rain and kept it stingily stored away, not allowing even the tiniest amount of mush or mud.

  Everything felt clean and vibrant. The stench of skunk cabbage by the creek’s edge competed with the sharpness of wild onions and sweet plantain between my toes. The surrounding forest itself give the impression of a singular, living being opening her arms to welcome back her long-lost, wayward daughter. I relished every moment.

  Tristan’s howl echoed through the trunks of trees, making its way to my still human ears. It was a call to freedom, the thrill of the hunt, and the promise of an appetizing meal of game. At this thought, my belly gurgled with hunger though I had eaten dinner with my family mere hours before.

  Without pause, I sprang forward, hands and head first. The sizzling ripple of heat started in the core of my stomach and made its way to the tips of my toes and fingers before I had even landed. My pale hands now dusky fur covered paws, I bounded after my brother under the sparkling sapphire sky.

  Each fiber of muscle was injected with lactic acid as I moved forward, faster, harder, longer. I had been neglectful – not getting out running in almost two months wasn’t good. I had so much pent up energy that yearned to be released and my muscles ached from lack of use. As my paws clawed their way through the brush and fallen leaves, I gave myself over to the animal inside. I let go of my joys - recollections of smiles and peals of laughter from those I loved - all consciousness of my human world. Even Jaime’s face, so hauntingly comforting, grew fainter until it dissolved completely into the background of my memories. For a while, I forgot who I was and just let myself be.

  Ahead of me by no more than a few yards, Tristan caught a fox trail. A low bark signaled me to pick up the scent and track it. As the trail led us behind a small, rocky mound, Tristan and I slowed to a near crawl. The fox we tracked led us to his home. There would be more than one. We positioned ourselves for attack and subsequent chase should the foxes attempt to flee. It took less than a minute and the two of us each had a small meal between our jaws.

  Deeper into the forest, I caught a trail left by the cougar I had heard before shifting. He was alone and stalking a meal of his own. I howled to Tristan, tailing me now. A cougar would make for a fantastic final course plus the added advantage would be his willingness to give chase. Unlike wolves or bears, which we never attack out of kinship and reverence, respectively, mountain lions are in a whole different sphere. They always run away and when you catch them, they fight with the ferocity of an animal four times their size. The anticipation was intoxicating.

  Tristan and rounded another clearing, this one with a ledge of rocks at its north-north western borders. He didn’t need to signal me, I just knew how to proceed. I took the long way around the clearing, giving the clearing enough berth to avoid the wind catching my scent and tipping off the cougar. Tristan and I diverged at this point, me to my path, him to the southeastern entrance. Creeping to a spot on the ledge from which I could monitor the scene below while remaining unseen by our prey, I spied Tristan advancing. The cougar bounded away from my twin and cornered itself not far from where I sat, patient as death. The moment the cou
gar realized its chances of escape were zero it pounced at Tristan, jaws baring glittering white teeth, claws outstretched. I moved forward a foot or two and sprang down the rocky cliff, mere feet from where the cougar once stood.

  It was no match for us. But it put up a valiant fight. I walked away with a gash several inches long and half an inch deep across my right shoulder and into my chest. Tristan’s hind leg had two, fairly superficial puncture wounds from the cougar’s canines. To show our respect, we gave it a good death, a quick snap of the neck. Neat and honest. I refused to play with my food as many of my kind do.

  The meat was unbelievably satisfying. After going months on a vegetarian diet, fresh meat hit the spot. The blood was warm and coppery as each bite slid over my tongue and down my throat. It was heavy in my gut. I was just a hair slower after polishing off my kill. Tristan and I, tummies contented, started for home.

  Upon to returning to my clothing pile, I shifted back to human form. The gash burned terribly in a way that had been more bearable in my wolf form. As a human though, it took plenty of concentration to not focus solely on the pain. Before dressing, I headed to the creek to wash off the cougar’s blood from my face. Not that it would matter really because my wound bled quite profusely. Still, I didn’t want blood all over my face and neck as well.

  Pulling my bra on with only one strap to hold it up, I carefully avoided touching my gash. I flicked a spider off my panties and shimmied them up my thighs. When it came to putting my jeans back on, it was harder. The slash was stinging so bad that I called to Tristan who helped me to pull them up by the band, as an adult would help a child.

  “You're bleeding everywhere, you know.” He said as I buttoned the jeans.

  “Thanks for that update. I had no idea.” I said, dripping sarcasm and crimson.

  “I wouldn't put your shirt back on. You'll ruin it.”

  “Aren't you Captain Obvious tonight?” I glared at him. My irritation was compounded by the intensity of the pain. “I wasn’t going to put it back on. It would hurt too badly.”

  “Fine then, miss pissy-pants.” He rolled his eyes at me and pointed at my chest, grinning. “On a happier note, that’s going to be an amazing scar with one hell of a story behind it!”

  A scar, a tale to tell…Something in my expression must have tipped Tristan off to my reluctance to laugh. He jerked his head toward home and smiled. “Come on Fifi. We have a brother to piss off with a late night phone call.”

  Tristan’s assumption was spot on. Mom panicked at the sight of so much blood pouring down over my bra, soaking the waistband of my jeans that she dialed Thomas’ number repeatedly until he answered. While she waited for him to pick up the phone, she chewed us out for cornering a cougar.

  “I know I’ve taught you better! You are not pups anymore! You got what you asked for, going after a cougar. They get nasty when confronted! What on earth were you thinking?!” On and on it went until Thomas answered the phone and cut her off.

  Thomas walked in the door not fifteen minutes later carrying an attitude darker than his black medical bag.

  “Just to let you two know, one of us has an intelligent and sexy woman lying naked but alone because of your stupidity.” He grumbled as he gave me a shot to numb my cut. Behind his hand, Tristan snickered. “If you don’t want to die from an infection, you might want to shut the hell up.” He pointed the syringe at Tristan.

  “So the Terrible Two strike again. Why is it always you two?” Gavin’s voice carried over Thomas’. His expression was less irritated but still not pleased.

  After stitching up my gash and giving both me and Tristan an immediate dose of antibiotics, he handed Gavin a prescription and made an appointment for us to be seen at his office in two days.

  With my wound still numbed, I lumbered up the steps to my room hoping I'd be able to fall asleep quickly. In the morning I would have to think of a really good excuse for my new and very permanent mark.

  *

  The office of Dr. Matthews was crazy busy when Tristan and I slid open the double glass doors. Parents comforting concerned kids with sick dogs and cats, pet parakeets and lizards, took up nearly every seat. As my eyes scanned the waiting room, I realized how out of place we must have looked without an animal in our arms or a child to console. After a surprisingly short waiting time, Tristan and I were called back to one of the exam rooms.

  I stripped off the poncho I’d worn to conveniently conceal my wound. It was hurting terribly and I hadn’t been sleeping very well because of it. The gash went into the muscle and now anything more than breathing was very painful. Thomas tilted the blindingly bright lamp light directly onto my wound. He poked and prodded checking for swelling, of which there was a good degree, and infection. “You’ve got a mess in here Sophie.” He chided.

  A nurse knocked on the door and pushed it aside enough to poke her head in. She glanced back and forth between Thomas and myself, covered by nothing but a bra and clearly having stitches checked by my brother. I was pretty sure there is some rule against a Doctor of Veterinary Medicine treating humans. A momentary concern for Thomas’s reputation passed over me.

  “Dr. Matthews, Jaime Robertson is here. He needs a quick word with you.” My heart soared and landed somewhere in the vicinity of my voice box.

  Jaime’s here!

  “Tell Jaime I’ll be out in a minute. I’m just talking to my sister.” The nurse nodded and closed the door. I had a sneaking suspicion the last sentence was for the nurse more than for Jaime. About the moment the thought passed over me so did a serious wave of pain as Thomas sliced into my stitches. I wrung my hands together and inhaled sharply through my teeth.

  “Sit still Sophie. I'll numb you as best as I can but you may still feel this. You're a mess. This wound needs to be cleaned out before I can stitch you back up.”

  He wasn't exaggerating. The pain was so bad a rumbling growl erupted from my chest and before I could try and stop myself, my canines burst forth and my back convulsed as the pain brought on the shift.

  I heard the slap before it ever registered on my cheek. “Sophie!” Tristan’s hand raised again, ready to strike. I breathed in and out slowly for a moment as my teeth retracted and the spasms ended.

  “Thank you.” I heaved. To control the urge to shift, I nearly crushed Tristan's hand while squeezing. When that didn't work, I forced myself to focus on the magazine rack across the room, studying the mundane cover. Then I counted the lines in the floor tiles, desperate to focus on anything that would keep the pain and my wolf in check. For several excruciating minutes Thomas poked, cleaned, and finally stitched up my gash.

  “Okay, I’m writing you a prescription for a second antibiotic. It’s a different type than the one you’re already taking so together they should be able to clear up the infection raging under the surface. Let me know if you start running a fever, if the pain gets worse or it swells more. And even though it’s not oozing yet, it might start.” He shook head as he tore the top off a little white pad of paper and handed me the sheet. “I hope you learned a valuable lesson about going after mountain lions.” His eyebrows arched stiffly as if he was just as certain that I wouldn’t learn my lesson even after this.

  Tristan’s leg was glanced over quickly and he was declared in good condition. The puncture wounds were minor and were healing quite well. Thomas’ displeasure was abated somewhat by Tristan’s minor wound. At least one of us fared well enough to take no more time away from Thomas’ work.

  “I have real patients to attend to. You know, dogs with broken bones and cats with colds.” He ushered us out of the room, Tristan first.

  Jaime leaned against the check-out counter, waiting for Thomas to exit the room across the very narrow hallway. As Jaime and I crossed paths, our eyes settled on each other for about two beats. His unblinking blue eyes blazed as they caught mine. His perfect lips quivered slightly, battling a grin playing at the corners of his mouth.

  His left hand, slightly concealed by the placement of hi
s body, opened enough for my hand to brush over it wrist first, down to the burning tips of each finger. The very air around us exploded with static so violent and pure I could almost make out tiny arcs of electricity between our palms. And then it was gone again. Our energies which fought so vigorously to unite returned, conquered, to their prospective homes inside our skins. Connection broken, I silently let Tristan guide me through the corridors out of the building and to my car in the parking lot.

  “Did you see the way that nurse looked at your stitches?” Tristan began as we pulled out of the parking lot. “I really thought she was going to have a conniption!” Between trembling barks of laughter he said, “Humans. If only they knew.”

  I managed a weak smile and turned my face to the window. Disquiet settled in my belly, heavy as if I’d swallowed rocks. I spent the rest of the ride home preoccupied by thoughts of Jaime. He would be sure to see my wound and the scar that would follow. How would I explain this? I debated between a rogue tree branch while out hiking and an actual cougar attack. But to admit that I'd been attacked by a cougar would clearly lead to the rangers sweeping and bringing in the cougar which meant more rangers in the woods where we hunt. However, a tree branch was weak at best. The conditions would have to be absolutely perfect for a tree branch to tear my flesh through at least two layers of clothing. It doesn't even make sense. I thought. As the rocks tumbled as harshly as my thoughts, my gash burned even more.

  ~Daniel~

  He was sitting at our table with a plateful of spaghetti when Tristan and I came home. I could tell he was super tall before he even stood up. Several inches over six feet. He was pale with really dark, curly hair tied in a ponytail. His warm light grey eyes greeted us before his voice did.