Blind Instincts

Chapter Twelve

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I'm welcomed with pain as my body congeals itself, growing new bones and turning into a new creature entirely. At first, the pain of shifting is too much to bare, and I keep in a ball on the ground. After a few minutes of getting used to, the pain fades and I get up. Flashes of life appear before me as I blink my eyes open. For the second time in my life, I'm blown away by the capability of sight. Each blade of grass stands still in the gleam of the moon. Drops of water shine against them in the darkness, my eyes focusing on the minuscule details of each and every piece.

All around me are scattered houses, close together along the paved path in the centre. I decide to continue the way I'm going, hoping to remain unseen. The slight glisten of the moon lights the open area, allowing me to keep going. Every so often I hear the voices of others, conversing after curfew. I don't want to think about what would happen if they're caught by their ruthless alpha, at this time.

Since I've been here, Alpha Alaric has met me with his cold, hateful nature, but also his empathetic and slightly gentle behaviours. Each time I am in his presence, it's unpredictable how he will treat me in the next moment.

I make a left into an opening of the trees, where the light can hardly reach. My already strained eyes squint, though the darkness is too much. I close them completely, listening to the way I move through the forest. I don't only listen to make my way around, but I feel it. I feel the presence of the trees around and in front of me, I know where they are without needing to see them.

My pace quickens and I'm now in a full sprint, the wind blowing across my face in a manner I've never quite felt before. My body shoots left and right, the vibrations beat from the pads on my four feet, rushing to the top of my clear mind. They pulse in sync with my heart, giving me directions of where to go. I feel into the soils of the earth, absorbing the blueprints of nature. Every bush pulses into the ground and into me, every rock, every dead log, I can see where they are without opening my eyes.

I'm swallowed by the free feeling of running with no direction, the way of defiance my body has longed for my entire life. Everything is new and fascinating, bringing me an intrigue I never thought was possible. I want to absorb information about every little being around me, I want to communicate with the moon, I want my spirit to align with the wholeness of the earth, the goddess Gaia as my saviour.

I tread against the power of the oncoming wind, pushing forward. The dry leaves crackle under my heavy weight. My feet kick up, plunging me faster into the thickened layer of trees. Everything is behind me as I make my way, every sound is left in my absence. The blossoming scent of something pure in the dead of autumn, is what compels my running mind to slow down and think.

I've never felt a freedom like the rush I have currently. Nobody is dictating me or watching what I do, I can just be myself. Or rather, discover who I am instead.

I open my eyes once again, being greeted by moonlight through an opening in the trees. The scent is ahead of me, a spec of life in the desolate lands of winter. A dead tree stood gnarled in its spot, hollowed at the base and clawing with its skeleton-like branches. A vine veins across the stem, climbing its way up on a lone branch. Blooms of early wisteria sprout from the vines, making the deceased tree look beautiful again. Few lone hanging flower bunches omit their sweet fragrance into the air.

The presence of wisteria is ironic; a beautiful, flower-blooming vine so invasive and needy that it kills other plants around it.

My eyes don't deserve to see such a naturally beautiful occurrence. The seasons collide against each other, the faith of spring washing away the hardship of winter's past. I reach to sniff the flowers, greeted with a tickle on my pink nose. The scent lulls me into a sense of security, desiring nothing more than the verity of this perfect moment.

Puddles of half-frozen water gleam portraits of life, showing me more of the area around me. Crickets chirp in sync, singing to the hum of buzzing lightning bugs. Drops of water peddle off the leaves, falling into the frosted forest bed. Everything about this moment seems sacred, like the Moon herself is telling me my destiny awaits.

Wings of preying owls sway against the wind above, rustles in the surrounding area play in my mind. Sounds that do not belong in the woods are heard in the distance.

My mind becomes scattered, the cry of a lonely soul exists past the trees. Their lifetime of sorrow exposed to whoever is near, though I expect they remain unaware.

An imaginary path is pulling me closer, coaxing me to investigate. I move, allowing the moon to take me where I need to go. An inkling in my stomach rises with anticipation, feeling a dire need to arrive at my destination. Another cry is eurupts that grabs me at my core.

My entire being feels for the wolf at the other end, now a mere field away. I stop where I'm at and just listen to the despair of their howls into the night, screaming for nobody to hear.

Despite my protests, there's only one thing I think to do, as I am a werewolf, and this is my heritage. I lean into the intimate breeze, allowing it to carry my howls into the night sky. Our sounds intertwine, mixing in a beautiful melody of our entire beings. Our souls combine and we share a moment of intimacy where we are wholly exposed to each other's misfortunes.

The moment passes and they cease their open expression, causing mine to follow. Anybody could be across this field, they could be a bloodthirsty rogue werewolf that is willing to kill me, though I don't feel threatened. Even sitting in my utter lack of being, I don't move, I just wait.
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Word Count: 1081