Hello,
Apologies for the 2 week break, I was ill last weekend. This chapter starts immediately from where the previous left off, so I advise a recap if you can!
Also, I wanted to add a name list as usual, since they are usually chosen to carry meaning...
Red/Sil - nicknames, the colours red and silver
Chanthira - Red's grandmother - Moon
Dara - Red's mother - Star
Saksit - Sil's wolf pack elder - Sacred
~~
A crescendo of swirling, anxiously agitated wolf howls, as an alien, twisting transformation took possession of Red's body - awoken by that act of love between two.
"Hush! Didn't I tell you it was him?", Sil's firm bark silencing the pack, leaving in its muted wake only eyes of disquiet, trepidation rippling and radiating like the waves of human-folks' atomic weaponry, explosive destruction to the tranquility of nature's throne room and the woods around.
And suddenly Red felt that fear too. Was paralysed by it as he watched hand and nails morph agonisingly into furred paw and claws. He heard a pained wail - from...his own lips? Flashes of glinting silver and gleaming ruby behind his eyelids as they squeezed shut - sea sickness on land - Sil's arms catching readily as he swayed, swayed, and then succumbed to the vertiginous velvet of the unconscious void.
//
He dreamed of a tabby, Siberian Forest Cat with brightest emerald eyes. She wound her tail about his ankle, holding him tightly - protectively? - in place, until at last looking up at him, Moon speaking with his Yaai Chanthira's voice, to say:
"Wake up sleepyhead, it's time"
//
It was the same voice Red heard as he blinked blearily awake on command, lying still for some seconds, adjusting to his surroundings - peering somewhat warily at his own once-again-human hands, no trace of fluff, or whiskers above...
He was on his Grandmother's bed, stretched out atop an ancestral patchwork quilt, in all the regal elegance of a bobbly, floral, towelled dressing gown. Through the crack of the open doorway, three figures were positioned around the room about the hearth's hearty fire. Yaai in her armchair, Sil - tense back to the interior as he faced outwards from the small window - and a third, older man, grey hair twisted back in a knot, seated opposite the hostess upon a creaking, wooden dining chair. Another wolf shifter, Red instinctively sensed.
"We have to get him back to his mother - Dara will worry so", his grandmother was arguing, yet -
"No! Not until his fever burns out and he's stronger again"
"Sil, show respect!" - it was the unknown elder, then. A voice that croaked as if it had not been used by a human mouth for quite some time, years even, though authoritative nonetheless.
But Yaai was already chuckling as she sipped knowingly from her tea cup...
"No harm done, Khun Saksit, his possessiveness is to be expected, since his partner is in a state of vulnerability"
Vulnerability? It was the point at which the listening Red moved to swing his legs from the bed in assertive protest...instead only whimpering at the sudden, throbbing ache that attacked his lower back, legs flopping down to the mattress as he lost all strength in a moment.
A rush of heavily-booted footsteps bringing Sil to his side - hand on his cooling brow, then stroking gently at a cheek:
"Your fever's passing, but don't try to move - please, you need rest. Your body's been through a lot in these hours"
YOU ARE READING
Si Daeng
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