Secrets.

Unhappy (part 2).

Chapter 5- Unhappy (part 2).

   But the bite never came.

   Instead, I heard an aggravated moan and then a whimper, neither my own. I couldn't help it; my eyes snapped open and I took in the scene with surprise.

   Against an old, gnarled tree trunk was the wolf that, only seconds before, had been going to rip my throat out. Now, he was incapable of even licking his own wounds. I was sure that he'd be fine. (All the books said Weres heal fast.) But looking at him, it was hard to believe. His limbs were twisted in a painful looking way. He looked like a plush toy, not a real live werewolf; he seemed that broken. I felt sorry for the slumped mongrel.

   Looming over him, teeth stripped, was an even bigger wolf. Power radiated from him. His head was poised over the injured wolf's neck. A deep growl erupted from his throat. I stared at him in awe. He was both magnificent and terrible. His night coloured coat was sleek and somehow it appeared to be tinted blue. It gleamed under the moonlight. His shoulders were broad, his teeth sharp. Even hunched as he was, you could see the muscles rippling on his back. His legs were long, but not awkward looking. All in all, everything about this animal screamed that he was built for strength and agility.

   What had I gotten myself into?

   I bit the inside of my cheek. What the hell was I meant to do? I didn't like the thought of one wolf killing another. I tend to prefer animals over people. And I really wouldn't like anything rash being done on my account. If I intervened, I'd most likely get myself mauled. Right now, with these beasts in front of me, that was less than appealing. It'd be downright stupid to get any further involved.

   I guess I'm stupid.

   Holding my breath, I edged closer to the pair. I yanked off my Mettalica hoodie as fast as I could, then, using it as a whip, swung it in the huge wolf's direction.

   "Back off!" I yelled, advancing on him.

   He retreated a few steps. I had to bite my tongue as I repeated the step. I was actually terrified. Only a crazy person wouldn't be. In your face mother, I thought. I crouched down in a protective stance, just waiting for him to pounce. I forced myself to glance at the hurt wolf that I was now in front of. His wounds were already starting to heal, his legs relining.  I crept closer to him in an awkward backwards shuffle, not wanting to take my eyes off the more dangerous creature. Despite not being in the best form, my new charge was eyeing me up as if to consider fighting me. Even now, I'd probably have no chance.

   "Wolf-boy, I swear if you dare growl at me, I'll stick a muzzle on you so tight, your jaws will lock! Save all the crap for after, okay?" I hissed.

   His head bowed and I took this to mean that it was all good.

   I had been wearing a black and blue, long-sleeved top underneath my hoodie. It was cheap and, easily, I ripped off the sleeves. Cautiously, I wound one sleeve over a broken looking paw. He yelped, giving me a murderous look.

   "Suck it up," I spat. "Now, please, stand up."

   Slowly, he rose, holding his bandaged paw up. Using the other sleeve, I made a make-shift sling as best I could; he was pretty big after all. I stood up and admired my work. It was semi-decent.

   I sprang back as the  large wolf brushed past me. I cursed under my breath as I whacked my head off a low-hanging branch. Nobody was paying any attention to me. In the dark, it was hard to tell, but it seemed to be pretty sturdy. Before I could chicken out, I hauled myself up on it and then began grabbing other branches to get up higher and higher.