Life is quiet and comfortable for Gael. Abel has moved in to his house, school is going great and he has his little solid friend group.
But as the population of wolves grows from one to four, Gael has to figure out how to navigate them looking to hi...
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"Lots of wolves now," Mags said as she rummaged through a basket filled with yarn.
"Yeah, four besides the two of us," I said and picked up balls of yarn from the floor that rolled out of the basket.
"More than four. Though they're not quite ready to talk to you yet, it seems. But they're out there. I gave one some clothes during the last full moon. And a lovely scarf. Now I'm making another scarf for another little lone wolf. They're watching you before they come into the light. Smart little pups. But they can't avoid me in my own woods now, can they?"
I didn't have anything to say to that. I put the yarn back in the basket and sat down on the sofa. Mags smiled sweetly at me and tilted her head to the side.
I realised she was waiting for me to say something. "I can't very well force them out, can I?"
"No, you have to be patient with them. Some will come forward; some will leave again without a word. Some will realise they aren't ready. You need to be patient with them."
I nodded. "I will. I promise."
"I like the girl. Meera. She's very polite. She comes by too, you know. She knits. She knitted me this sweater." She pulled out on her sweater, showing off the pretty patterns. It fit her perfectly.
"It's a nice sweater," I said and smiled. She did too.
"Patience, Gael. Patience with them all. All of them." She sent me a saying look and pulled on the yarn, getting a long string free from the ball itself.
I groaned and leaned back in the sofa, staring up at the ceiling. "Sounds like you've been talking to River."
"He comes by. How did you think he found you?"
"I dunno, supernatural ability to find me and be a pain my ass?"
Mags laughed and started rocking a little in her chair as she swung the knitting needles around. Looked like she was starting something new, but I didn't really know diddly shit about knitting.
"There will be interferences with your plans for this town, Gael, and not all will be bad. Not all will be good. But keep your eyes on the finish line, yeah? Remember what the ultimate goal is."
"What's the ultimate goal?" I asked, still staring up at the ceiling. It was made of this light exposed wood, making the little cottage even more snug.
"A refuge for the wolves. A place they can call home, just like you've done. A place to belong."
"I'm no good at this, Mags. I don't know why I thought I'd be good at it." I peeled my eyes off the ceiling and looked back down at the small elderly woman, sitting in her rocking chair, knitting.
"You were here first. You spread your scent everywhere. You made a name for yourself across the mountains and all over the valley. Them's the stakes."
"Them's the stakes?" I asked, unable to hold back a chuckle.
