Wolven

Chapter 6 - A Mother's Love

My slumber is restless.

Nothing of clarity passes through my mind during the night, just brief flashes of blood and the smell of fear, as wolves run and nip at one another across my subconscious. Ferocity battles fear, dread combats hope. In a frenzy of jumbled scenes of war and wolves, only the clear sound of a soul-splintering howl rises to pervade all else. The lament lingers on a single note, claiming a silence over my mind as an all-encircling peace answers its call. The tone falls in pitch, and the void that follows settles in my mind like a crisp breath of arctic air in my lungs.

Then there is nothing. Glorious nothing.  For a few refreshing moments, the beat of my heart is the only thing in existence. It quickens with the arrival of a presence. A misty light brings warmth, and relief of all things, soothing my being with its company. The soft touch of fur graces my mind.

I’m shaken awake by Rowan after what is probably the best night of sleep I’ve had in a very long time, and I actually feel drowsy when I come to.

“Been sleeping all morning, you alive under there?” he says as he jabs at me through the blankets.

“I’m up... I’m up,” I mumble, pulling myself to sit upright and rubbing at my eyes. “Where’s Ataneq?” I startle even myself with what came out of my mouth, barely passing through my brain before it did. Rowan cocks an eyebrow. “And do you know anything at all about what happened to our village?” I add. “About Halin? The hunters?” My brother picks up a tray that was placed on an end table beside the couch, and hands it to me as he takes a seat. Scrambled Ptarmigan eggs are piled on the tray, beside some berries, with a glass of goat's milk.

“Scouts visited the village last night, posing as hunters from another village who had heard of the attack. Halin’s fine, Rhea. He suffered some lacerations, and is being flighted back to the States where he belongs.”

“Everyone else?” I ask, pausing in picking at the eggs.

“Only a few dead. Two or three.” My fork clinks on the plate as I look at Rowan squarely in disbelief.

“We live close to the arctic circle, Rheaden. Our village knows how to handle their own.” Relief fills my heart at the truth in his words.

“I’ve still got a lot of questions, Row.”

“They’ll be answered. King’s busy at the moment, I’m sure he’ll be in to see you soon. Though, feel free to roam about the Vale. We’re very safe here.” Setting the now-empty plate down on the side table, I stand to rid some of the restlessness that’s been building as I face my brother directly.

“What is going on here, Rowan?”

He stares at me for a beat before his eyes look left, then right, around the cabin.

“As in...?” My mind has been an increasing whirl of thoughts and unanswered questions since I woke up, his games are trying my patience.

“We’re surrounded by werewolves. That’s fictional, Rowan! The tales aana told us when we were young are just stories...”

Or, they should be, I think to myself. Rowan looks at me like I’m the crazy one. “Surrounded by werewolves, Rowan!” I repeat through my teeth.

“You say that exclusively,” he snorts as he stands. Leaning toward me quickly, a rough animal snarl emits from his throat, sending me jumping back. “Did you know we can still do that when we’re humans? Growl, I mean. You gotta be good at it, though.” He winks at me like a fool, striding across the room to the door. “I’m not supposed to say much more. That’s King’s job. I’m just sorry your instatement into all of this was so abrupt. I really am, Rhea.” Snow flutters in on his way out, and the flash of light from the brilliant day causes me to squint.