The Pack House

The Hunt

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The next few days seemed to slip away.

The days were almost...a fantasy. A dark, highly inappropriate fantasy, but a fantasy nonetheless. Marc allowed me to hunt with him. I hadn't realized how long it'd been since I shifts until I was stumbling over my own paws. But, like riding a bike, muscle memory kicked in and I was soon outrunning Marc himself as we tracked down a small doe.

She outran us both and we ended up skidding down a hill into a field of dead grass and bare trees. It was darkly romantic as I looked around. Marc was busy licking my neck apologetically, as if taking all the blame for the loss onto himself. I shook him off and padded around the field a bit.

Marc had his nose deep in the dirt trying to find something we could eat. Sure, it's been a few days, but the urgency wasn't there yet. Or maybe I was just captivated by our surroundings. We had travelled this far before and I could smell running water in the distance--the stream? My ears pricked as I heard Marc coming up behind me. He has a vole in his jaws that he set at my feet. I looked down at the small morsel and nudged it back to him. I could hear rodents rustling under my feet. Plus Zach and I had been so well fed I wondered how long it'd been since Marc had anything real to eat.

Marc whined in offense at what he thought was rejection but I turned away, following my ears to the soft sound of feet pattering over the earth. It didn't take long before my senses led me a small nest of field mice. I let my hunger override the guilt of eating the baby mice, and dug in. Marc nosed his way in, licking at my muzzle as he heard the small crunch of the mice's frail bones breaking between my teeth. I pushed his own kill back toward him.

Marc whined worriedly, as if afraid to eat it. I got up and continued my search.

This kind of food wasn't meant for wolves. The amount of meat I'd gotten from the family had merely tickled my tastebuds. But I wasn't going to complain. I couldn't now that I understood the scarcity. My feelings toward this Pack were evolving. My anger and disgust toward their actions were leaning a bit toward pity.

Did they know any better? It was cheap excuse and not at all reasonable but the senseless violence could easily be related back to the forced cannibalism. What was always said about that? How wolves weren't meant to consume their own kind and it would drive them insane...

Was that was I witnessing? A Pack full of those of diminished capacity stuck in an unfortunate cycle of poverty and hunger? How could anyone expect them to extend any form of kindness when they didn't have the means to even be kind to each other? The Pack was drawn together by primal reasons and stayed together due to need.

Wolves that were too proud or unable to go and face the punishments for their crimes put themselves through their own torture here, among their own kind.

There was some kind of poetic justice in it all.

Perhaps that was why the Moon Goddess had cursed their lands with so little prey? I found two moles and a young rabbit. I was getting a taste for raw meat and I wasn't sure how to feel about it.

I looked up, licking my lips at Marc who was lying down, watching me. He wasn't hunting.

I whined and placed my front two paws on his back and pressed down a bit, tail sweeping playfully. He splayed his ears in a submissive way and watched me. I hugged and retreated a few steps. Communicating in all gestures and body language was a skill that most wolves possessed--I did not.

So, I decided, if Marc wouldn't hunt for himself I would do so for him.

This field was a goldmine really. It full of rodents scurrying around before winter came. And once winter did come it would be a bit of work but finding their little heat pockets where they'd burrowed would always be a welcome alternative to eating my own kind. I made a small pile of voles and mice, narrowly loosing a little more plump rabbit that would have been a nice treat, into its hole. I carried the small prizes to Marc who lifted his head and cocked it on confusion.

I set down the somewhat mangled gifts in front of him and laid beside him. The wind was a bit chilly despite our fur but with our sides pressed against each other, we could share heat. Marc whimpered stubbornly, resting his head on my own momentarily. Then he nosed the pile back toward me, licking his lips regretfully as he did so.

Then began our game of pass the meal until Marc finally relented and ate all but two mice and tried to get me to finish it off. I took one and passed back the other. Marc finally ate it and we laid there for a while, enjoying the feeling of having eaten something.

Storm clouds loomed overhead as we slipped into a post meal nap.

***

A cold wet nose roused me.

I felt rested when I slept in wolf form--it'd been so long I'd forgotten! My eyes opened and I was greeted by a heart wrenching sight. Everything was covered with a thin layer of white. Marc's dark fur was dusted with snow as he stood impatiently over me, whining a bit.

I shook out my fur, shaking loose snowflakes that's settled on me. I sat back on my haunches and stared up at the sky. It was dark blue--dusk was coming. Tiny flakes of white swirled down to us however.

A cold fleck landed on my nose and Marc pressed against me more firmly.

It was clear he  wanted to leave that moment. With a huff I got up and we climbed up the hill. The trees had kept the ground clear save for a few spotty dustings of snow that had slid through the gaps and accumulated. I understood his worry--Winter was a very bad time here.

But the beauty was understated. It was shadowy and the trees cast eerie shapes all around. The only sound was our breathing and the soft patter of our paws. We reached the bag where we'd stored our clothes and shifted back. As soon I was in my human form the cold really set.

Marc dropped his heavy jacket over my own as I shivered. "Won't you be cold?"

Marc was wearing a long sleeved cotton shirt that barely served as a buffer for the wind. "I'll be fine. It's you I'm most concerned about."

And there was that tingling again. The unending 'aww' that made me confident I would spend the rest of my life here in hell as long as he was at my side. It scared me. I nodded my head and we started back.

Back in the bunker we stripped down and put on new, heavier clothes. Marc cranked up the gas lamps and lit extra candles. We crawled beneath the covers and he cradled my body.

It was still so strange--the platonic closeness I shared with him was unusual. Not to mention that a sexual tension stood between us. His erection the obvious as it pressed against my back. His fingers stroked the curve of my shoulder wistfully. The soft caress made me want to feel the bittersweet pain on his Mark.

Then our bond was permeated into my flesh and solidified. "Once the electricity is all set I'll go find us a space heater."

"That'd be nice," I mumbled into the pillow. "We should visit Zach and Charlie."

"I already did. They're both perfectly fine. It's way too cold anyway. Maybe if it's a bit warmer tomorrow we'll run over."

"We should keep that place to ourselves."

"You don't want to share it with the Pack?" He asked teasingly. His tone turned serious. "I'm such a loser."

"What? Where'd that come from?" His lack of self confidence was both endearing and frustrating. He was so much more than he thought he was--it was just matter of getting it through his thick skull.

"You deserve to eat real food. Not scrounging for scraps."

"It's fine. It's food."

"I should have caught you they deer."

"We ate--that's what's important."

"I guess." He didn't sound convinced.

I rolled over and hesitantly pressed my lips against his. "You're incredible." I reminded him. "Don't forget that."

His eyes locked on mine intensely.

As his lips slammed against mine I realized that I had just uncaged a carefully restrained beast.

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