Werehuman

Tracks

"What do you think did it?" Ralph asked me while we surveyed the mess of the chicken coop.

I helped him move some scrap plywood to the worst of the holes, but we were still missing chickens from the coop. Hopefully I could track some of them down.

"The prints aren't cougar," I said. "Or any cat for that matter. Too small to be fox or coyote, but honestly, these prints are too large to be wolf."

"And you're not just saying that?" he questioned.

"It wasn't me," I grumbled. "I think I know my own prints pretty well. And if you're still uncertain, I'm sure I have some just outside my window. What I don't understand is why a wolf would go for the fenced-in chicken coop near the house and not the barn or stockyard."

"You did," Ralph pointed out.

"I was also sick and dying," I replied. "Which chickens are gone?"

"One rooster and a hen were killed and three of the dun hens are gone," he replied. "You know, I saw feathers all over your room, but I don't think we're down any guineas. At least, it doesn't sound like it."

We both frowned at the guineas roaming the yard, eating bugs and chattering at each other. They were good for pest control, but only if you could put up with the noise. I didn't feel bad when I killed a couple during a hunt.

I took a sniff but couldn't smell more than the chicken litter. This was my second least favorite thing about being human. I couldn't smell anything that wasn't right in front of my too short nose.

"Could it be someone like you?" Ralph suggested.

"Why would someone break into a chicken coop?" I questioned. "And if they were like me, they should be able to smell that this is not their turf."

"They could steal to prove a point," he offered. "I don't know, like gang wars or something."

I stared at him blankly. I had learned an immense amount of information about humans in my two years here, but there were always new things to learn. Hair ties, for instance.

"Pack wars?" he tried. "Don't wolf packs fight?"

"If there are food shortages," I said. "And even then, they'll usually work together. But there is tons of food here; it's spring. "

The porch door slammed shut up at the house. Mel and Susie Lynn were walking to the truck.

"We're headed out!" Mel called. "You boys good?"

Ralph gave her a thumb's up and the two headed down the drive. We turned to the task at hand.

"Can we follow these tracks any?" Ralph asked. "I don't suppose we can use your wolf nose for this."

I shook my head. This soon after hunting, I couldn't use my wolf senses, and so would have to do this the human way: sight. New colors were interesting, but not relevant to figuring out what broke into the chickens.

The paw prints were easier to see in the dirt of the chicken coop, but they were heavy enough to make prints in the grass. Ralph and I followed the short path to the trees, where we found some chicken feathers. Not many, but enough to keep the trail going for several more yards. Then, the tracks met up with two more sets and they headed down a fourth trail together. That trail was harder to follow; the prints blurred together as they ran away from the property. I stopped following; pointless to track a group of wolves on the run; they could be miles away.

"A pack?" Ralph asked.

"A pack," I agreed. "They should know better. They shouldn't be this close to people anyway."

"Should we move the heifers?" he inquired. "I guess I'm asking, will they be back?"

I stared down at the tracks, wishing I had heard them last night. I tried to stay away from the property; I scared most of the creatures that lived here and humans were trying to sleep.

"I think so," I sighed. "This may have been a test. Now, they might be bolder still."

Ralph groaned as we headed back to the house. We weren't so far, and who knows what the other two wolves that hadn't raided the chicken coop had been doing. I didn't like this.

"I'll sleep out at the barn tonight," I said. "If they're wolves, then they should smell me and know to stay away."

"If they're not wolves?"

"Then they'll wish they stayed away," I answered.

Mel worried over me like I was going to die from the lack of a feather bed for the night. She packed me blankets and water and snacks; I wasn't going out of eyeshot.

"I'll be all right," I told her. "I've survived all these years living outside; I think I can handle one night in a barn."

"You had fur all the time, back then," she reminded me, as if I had forgotten. "And instincts. Being human is hard without help."

That was true. Walking on two feet was still odd if I thought about it. I didn't have claws or any impressive teeth. My hearing was dull and my sense of smell even worse.

"If the pack is truly so big, I will stay hidden," I promised. "I can handle three wolves. We don't know if they're coming back tonight."

"Even so." Mel tucked the picnic basket under my arm. "Now you will have some home comforts. Stay safe, Conor."

I nodded and headed for the door. Susie Lynn ran up to me and we bumped fists before I opened the door and walked out into the clear night. It was still a little cold; winter hadn't totally shaken its icy grip on Montana. The stars were beautiful, one thing I had never noticed while being a wolf. Humans did see the world differently.

"Conor! My wife finally let you out of the house?" Ralph laughed. "I thought I was going to have to sleep out here."

He had laid down some hay in an empty stall and set up a light at the door. I set the picnic basket down and retrieved the blanket and a pillow. Ralph peeked inside and shook his head.

"She'd never make me sandwiches for sleeping out in a barn. You delicate flower."

"There ought to be some perks of being human," I answered with a grin and unfolded the blanket to lie on the hay. "I'm good here. You can go back up to the house."

I yawned and sat; I had only slept a couple hours the night before with the hunt and the early accusatory wake up call. Hopefully I wouldn't sleep so soundly that the wolves would come and go without me noticing.

"Here." Ralph handed me one of his rifles. I stared at it and shook my head, offering it back to him.

"I'm not shooting anyone tonight, Ralph. I can't do that."

"And what if they attack? What if you get hurt?" he demanded. "How are you planning on defending yourself?"

"I'm not, I'm planning on climbing the ladder and sitting up there until morning," I replied, pointing at the hayloft. "Wolves can't get up there and I'll be just fine. Go back to the house; I can watch a barn without everyone worrying about me."

Ralph frowned, but nodded his head. "Be safe, Conor."

I leaned my head onto my pillow and was asleep in moments.