Minerva

Chapter 2: Darin

The wolf was chatty.

He seemed cold and cool to start, holding tight to his secrets and only letting necessary information slip out. But it seemed the closer we got to Ireland, the less tense he became. Until eventually he simply wouldn't shut up.

She hardly found anything worth storing away in her memory, but Minnie admitted- though only to herself- that she did enjoy the sound of his voice. He was gruff and manly, that feeling enhanced by his massive size. He spoke animatedly about his home and all the things there were to do in and around the castle. He spoke about his family, which sent a familiar, longing pang through Minnie's chest. He spoke about his king with a trust and reverence that she was in awe of. She had and would never be so dependent on another living being, but it was interesting to view with her own eyes how attached other people could be, even if she did accredit some of it to Darin's unavoidable loyalty to his Alpha.

Minnie hardly had to speak at all. The barest amount of nods and 'um-huhs' were required to keep the wolf going. She took time to study his face while he distracted himself with another anecdote.

He wasn't traditionally handsome. There was a long scar down the side of his neck that she knew had a much more interesting story than any that he had told on the flight. His nails were ragged with dirt beneath them. His skin was full of blemishes and sun-patches from too many days spent outdoors, and his scraggly hair could happily part with a few inches. But his smile was wondrous.  eyes were beautiful. The history is in the eyes, as her grandmother used to say. And what a history it must have been.

Every change of emotion, every thought was displayed so easily in those dark brown eyes. On the odd occasion that Darin's gaze crossed with hers, she could swear she was looking at a creature that was more animal than man. She wondered if his wolf was active when he was in his man-form, or if it hybernated or something. Wolves had always been so interesting to her, much more so than vampires. Even when she was younger, though, learning material had been scarce on the most reclusive paranormal race.

Finally when she could help it no longer, Minnie blurted out, "Can your wolf speak?"

Darin stopped short in the middle of a sentence. "When I shift I can communicate mentally with others nearby."

That wasn't quite what she meant. "But can he speak. Or it- does your wolf have a gender?" His eyes flashed at the question.

"He is definitely male." Minnie could practically see his chest puffing.

"And if you allowed him to, could he speak? Now, I mean?"

Darin's eyes were locked in hers, intense. She got the feeling that he was drawing more from the question than she had intended. "Do you want to speak to him?"

The only thing that kept a blush from her cheeks was a touch of sneaky magic. "Not necessarily. I was just wondering if it's possible."

The giant nodded understandingly. "It only happens rarely- and mostly to very young or untrained shifters."

"Has it ever happened to you?"

His cheeks gained a bit of color. "When I was young, yes. My wolf is quite- tenacious."

She couldn't help but tilt her head slightly at the admission. "And?"

Now that was a story she would like to hear.

"One of my brothers was being annoying- as brothers are. My wolf decided he'd had enough of it and came out for a little talk. It goes without saying that my brothers left me alone after that."

Her eyebrows raised. Interesting. He hadn't spoken as if his family had any distance between them. They must have gotten over the incident. Minnie had to remind herself that not all familiar problems were as black-and-white as hers. There was room for adjustment for more normal people. People whose parents didn't try to start wars.