Call of the Wild

6 - The Trail

Disregarding the kidnap and the kibble, Mason makes for a surprisingly gracious host. He asks if I'd like a shower and — convinced at the mere thought of warm water and washing all this dirt and dried blood off my skin — I agree at once.

I wrap the blanket around myself — it's huge, so it engulfs me — and slowly stand up. My muscles tingle and ache, but I manage to follow Mason out of the room. Robin wanders along behind me, staying far enough away for some semblance of comfort. Even still, I devote most of my focus to listening to her footsteps— just in case.

My first impression of the house and its size — a grand yet archaic place — is only strengthened as Mason leads me through different rooms and to the two-storey entrance with the dramatic stairs I practically flew down in my attempt to escape. A warm, rosy light floods in through several huge windows. It's mid-afternoon, I think.

I look around, enthralled at the size of the room and the strange accents carved into the ceiling far above. "This is your house?" I risk asking. Mason looks around my age— barely into his twenties. And I certainly can't afford a place like this. All I have to my name is... well, not even the clothes on my back, I suppose— since I'm naked and using a stranger's blanket as a cape. All I have is my fur, and I'm not even shifted.

Mason glances at me over his shoulder and smiles disarmingly. "Yeah, it is now. It was my great uncle's, but he gave it to me in his will."

"Oh," I let out, recalling his conversation with the cops. "That's... nice."

"It's really not," he tells me with a little shrug. "It's a bit of a nightmare, to be honest, and it needs loads of repairs but I've got no clue what I'm doing."

Robin speaks up from behind me as Mason leads us upstairs. "I'd sell it and move in with me, if I were you, Mase."

Mason laughs. It's a light sound. A joyful one. "Of course you would." For my benefit, he adds, "Robin and I lived together at university."

I frown. University is a foreign concept for shifters. We're meant to live our lives separate from humans, so mingling in lectures isn't exactly ideal. And besides, it's a difficult feat to hide your true self behind a mask of mediocrity.

That's what my pack always told me, anyhow.

I give myself a sharp mental shake. Not my pack. Not anymore.

Mason takes me back into the room where I'd first woken up— the one where I panicked and tried to climb out the window. As Robin collapses onto the bed with a sigh, as though the short walk has exhausted her, Mason motions me over to the second door, tucked away in the corner.

It's a bathroom; contemporary and clean. I follow him inside.

Mason opens the window a little, letting fresh air in. I can make out the sound of birds chirping, and the air is crisp with the mossy fragrance of the woods. I take a deep breath and savour the peace flooding through my veins at the familiar scent.

Mason gestures to the shower. "Do you... um, know how it works?" he asks softly, wincing against my fury. Regretting his words at once, though I'm not sure why. Humans and their strange customs.

I merely shake my head. "No," I tell him. There were showers in the house my pack lived in, but they were for the older, stronger wolves only. I washed in rivers so they could have the hot water. The only hint of warmth I got was when Kain and his disciples would make me wash up every night. Dunking my hands into that warm, soapy water was pure bliss. It was my favourite chore.

Everything else they had me do, not so much. Acting as target practice, or punching bag, or prey during hunts. Chopping firewood for hours in the dead of winter, or tree logging for new training arenas in the scorching summers.