Pack Ties, Blood Lies

Chapter 5 - The Wait Begins

The delivery the next day was better than expected. We even got a small generator with a fridge and the water was turned back on.

Most days we fought in the hall. But when the weather was good, we moved to the clearing out front to spar under the sun.

Some days we fought with Jack shifted, some days not. But all days were tough from dawn until dusk.

Annoyingly. I only beat him half the time while he was shifted, which, whilst it was an improvement, wasn't my goal.

Sparring could go either way and generally ended with us both too tired to move, rather than a clear winner.

Cuts and bruises were attended to in the more 'human' way of bandages and I was beginning to look like a mummy by the end of the second week.

Somehow, we had managed to pull back to our cheeky friendship, for which I was grateful. In fact, this time together had made us a lot closer.

It was our last night at 'camp'. Jack was poking our small fire with a stick, a soft smile on his face as he watched the flames dance.

I had prepared some rabbit stew in a large pot, the smell of it simmering had taunted us for hours and my belly did a loud growl.

"Woah, I thought for a second you just got your wolf!" Jack laughed, his handsome face cast in half shadows from the firelight.

I stuck my tongue out at him and stretched, deciding it was time to dish up the soup.

We ate in comfortable silence, with only the rustle of leaves and the crackle of the fire to be heard.

Jack hummed appreciatively as he ate, making me smile. He was very easy to please with food and seemed to enjoy almost anything. I felt like he could be presented with a rotten squirrel and he would say it was delicious.

Regarding me over the top of his bowl, he cocked his head curiously. "How are you feeling about tomorrow?"

I honestly had no idea.

The Qual's seemed to have come around so quickly that I hadn't had time to worry about them too much. Although, on closer inspection of the idea, I felt a little sick.

"I'm nervous. Obviously..." I paused to slurp some soup. "I just don't know if I'm ready."

Jack drained the last of the broth from his bowl and set it on the grass beside him. He leant forward with his forearms on his knees; eyes filled with earnest. "You will be amazing. You should be proud." He hesitated and then added, "I'm proud of you."

A small, embarrassed smile bloomed on my lips and I looked away from his navy gaze.

Clearing his throat, he lay back in the grass and looked up at the moon.

It was almost full. A few more days and it would call to my brethren. Pulling them into the forests.

Moon Hunts were a monthly social gathering. The one time every month that the pack got together in wolf form. They would chase, play fight, and hunt as well as often finding a partner for the evening to have sex.

In wolf mythology, wolves mated for life in an instant, unmistakable lightning strike of a moment. They were bound to one another, unable to entertain the idea of any other mate.

In reality, it was a lot more complicated.

Wolves recognised their mate for sure. But not with an absolute blindness to all else. A mutual affection is easier to find in a mate, but it is not guaranteed or infallible.

Wolves can cheat just as humans can. They can ignore the bond if they so choose. A wolf does not have theatrical rejections and suicide inspiring heartbreak as legend would have you believe.