Destined Fur More

In Which I Yell At Many Things

Okay, you know that awkward moment when you wake up first at a birthday party or something and you don't know what to do because it's not your house, so you just lay there, staring at the ceiling, asking yourself why you're staring at the ceiling? Yeah, well, I'd never had to face that problem before now. But, as it turns out, there is a first time for everything! Isn't that just marvelous?

The thought inflated me with bitter air.

Since when do you do awkward, Fisher? I asked myself. You know what people think of you—there's no awkward to be had when you already know what people think of you. That's what awkward is, isn't it? Not knowing how the other is judging you? So I continued the inner conflicting banter. How could you, Fisher, have awkward, when the other two are asleep and you know their opinion of you? Isn't that just being stupid? Would you like them to think of you as stupid as well as fugitive from… From what?

That got me thinking. I shoved the top fold of the sleeping bag off, awkwardness forgotten. Rubbing my chin and fiddling with my lower lip, I tried to think of a noun to finish that sentence. Fugitive from the law didn't work—I hadn't done anything. Fugitive from… religion? That just made no sense; the shifter religion wasn't even mandatory. Fugitive from the fugitives? Now that—that had a ring to it. They were, technically speaking, doing illegal things such as trying to make me conceive children. Didn't that make you a fugitive, or was it just after you'd been apprehended then escaped you get the prestigious title?

I wrinkled my nose as the smothering aroma of smoke from the logs, and sending the pile of black, burning wood, a dark glare. The fire was out at this point, but I couldn't believe I'd slept through all the smoke. If I got lung cancer when I was seventy, at least I'd know why.

So, I pulled on a pair of rubber boots, a woolen hat, an even more woolen scarf, and thick jacket most likely made for people who went to these sorts of places to have fun and make memories. I made a face at those people.

Giving unconscious Teague and Erika—who still looked pretty, even with her hair tangled and arm lying in abandon on the wooden floor—a withering glance, slowly opened the door to the cabin and exited. It slammed shut with a rather loud bang, making me flinch, but neither of the two seemed to notice.

The melting snow mingles with mud, and together they sloshed under my feet, sounding like I was walking on zombie corpses or something. It smelled like cold water and worms, as did all Alaskan springs. I wrapped my arms tight around my chest in memory of the river ordeal yesterday. Was it only yesterday Teague had left me? Only yesterday we'd been at the Gathering? How could such a big turning point in my life last only a day? How could so much have changed in twenty-four hours? I sighed and shook my head.

I weaved through the trees, though there wasn't much weaving on account they were all still dead. I suppose Chugach was pretty this time of year; the birds had emerged from wherever the hell they went during the winter and were now flitting about in a manner that only partially made me want to shoot them. My disdain for nature was slowly lessening, that was for sure. I mean, I still thought that the flat, brown bark of all the trees like look half-dried dog shit and the reflection of the sun off the few patches of ice left was disgusting, but there was definitely less malice towards it all. Maybe because I was just now getting to know it after my seventeen years, and before I'd just written it off as some indecisive asshole in the sky pressing buttons and making me sweat excessively and freeze two minutes afterwards.

The frigid air brought forth a new thought: what had Erika meant by 'genetic experiments'? I'd just kind of gone with it then, but now I was really curious. I thought they just wanted me to have kids, whether I wanted to or not. What genetic experiment was she talking about? Would they, like tap into my DNA and pluck out some essential parts of Fisher? The part that made me a shifter and clone more of me, in hopes of preserving some endangered animal? What did it even matter, if shifters and leopards were different species altogether? Did that make me a leopard, or just something that just looked like one?