Northern Lights: The Druid of Black Lake

Chapter 1

Temperatures in Saskatchewan get pretty cold, especially in the winter months. I was in our family room, reading the latest copy of National Geographic which had arrived in the mail the previous day. The weather outside was cold, ice cold. It wasn't snowing at the moment but it had snowed for the majority of the weekend, now it was Tuesday, I don't think I had stepped outside for five days. I wasn't complaining about it; I would rather be inside our warm house when it was minus thirty degrees outside. However, I wanted it be warm up just a little so my skin wouldn't freeze when I stepped outside for more then ten minutes at a time.

I had been sick for two days. It wasn't anything serious, just a cold. Warm camomile tea with honey was my grandmother's trick. Grandma Daisy had all kinds of remedies for all kinds of things. Most of which involved food, drink, kind words and good company. That woman could fix anything. The honey helped sooth my throat, the home remedy also helped to calm my nerves.

My National Geographic magazine was not holding my attention like it usually did. I stared at the cover, it read March edition. The month of March, which meant there was only one more month until the big exhibition. I had been dreading it for the past two years, but since Christmas time I had begun to have trouble sleeping and concentrating. It was almost time for the exhibition that every unmated werewolf between the ages of seventeen to twenty-five in our treaty territory knew was coming. It was the Mating Exhibition.

I know what you are thinking, and yes there are werewolves in Canada. It's not a silly story like your friend's imaginary girlfriend who lives in Canada. You know, the one he met at "summer camp" last year. We are real, we are numerous and we hide in plain sight up here.

There are four territories, the West Coast, Central Prairie, Eastern Coalition and Maritime Fellowship. I happen to live in the Central Prairie Territory, which makes up half of Alberta, Saskatchewan, Manitoba, Nunavut, and half of the Northwest Territories. It is the largest land mass werewolf territory in Canada, but not the largest population by far. That belongs to the Eastern Coalition. We do, however have the most ground to cover, which can be problematic with rogue packs but our pack leaders do the best they can to work together within the territories.

I was born here in Saskatchewan to my mother and father, Dorothy and James Gillies. My father is the Delta of our pack, the Red Rose Pack which is active in the Prince Albert National Park area. We are not a huge pack, only about three hundred members, but for a Saskatchewan pack that is a fair size. We are the third largest in the province after the Riverbed Pack in Saskatoon and the True Dawn Pack in Regina. I have been all over the province with my family, and I can safely say no other pack territory is as beautiful as ours here in Red Rose. The humans created a provincial park here in 1927, long after our pack was already in the area for generations. We are conservationists, hunters, trappers, geologists, anthropologists, and botanists. We live off the land, work the land, respect it and the life it gives us. In return, the land here has turned our pack into a healthy group of wolves. We are blessed. The river runs through our territory, the trees are high and thick. The game is plentiful and delicious. I have everything I could ever need here. I love it and I want to stay. However, I know that isn't possible. I know my time at Red Rose is coming to and end, and there is very little I can do to stop it.

My sister Marie knocked on the door and opened it, sliding her hand to the inside of the handle on the other side and peeking her head in. She smiles at me, her green eyes and strawberry hair mirror mine. She lifts her chin to gesture that I need to follow her and she points her thumb out the door behind herself. I nod knowingly, tossing the magazine down with a sigh. I want to read it but National Geographic will have to wait for another day. I rise off the sofa, fold the blanket that I had been wearing like a poncho and set it back on the sofa. I gaze outside one final time, it has started to snow again. I follow Marie out the door, down the hall and into our family's living room where everyone in our home is gathered, waiting for us.