Wolfie in the Middle (Unfinished)

Chapter 8

My skin began to feel tight as I watched the sun set behind the forest trees. I hadn’t gone out running ever since I was last injured and now my foot was fine, I was longing for it badly. I huffed out a breath of air and glanced over atCamchopping carrots for her lamb stew. She had noticed my new feeling of up tightness but she put it down to the fact that Richard still hadn’t found Banjo for me. That may have been part of it but my wolf was calling from inside and if I wasn’t careful and I ever got angry at anything – even if it were silly – she would be out in seconds.

 SuddenlyCamstopped chopping and with wide eyes turned and looked at me.

 “You do like carrots don’t you?”

I almost laughed. “Yes, they’re fine.”

Camlaid a hand over her heart and laughed. She turned back around and continued.

 “I’m just checking. There’s nothing worse than preparing a meal for someone that won’t eat it.”

 The sound of truck tires came from the cabin’s gravel driveway.

 “Ah, Richard’s home.”

I stayed rooted in my chair, playing with the salt and pepper shakers in front of me. A whining sound perked my ears up. Could it be?

 I bolted out of my chair, knocking it over in the process.

 “Saskia?!”Camcalled.

I opened the door wide and watched Richard take out Banjo from his truck and make his way towards the house.

 Without crying out or calling my dog’s name, I leaped towards Richard. I almost cried then and there. Banjo wasn’t in good condition. His fur had matted and was caked in dry mud. His eyes were closed and only opened when I got near. Then he closed them again.

 “How is he?” I whispered.

 Richard walked into the kitchen. I heardCamshriek which wasn’t a surprise but I still hadn’t torn my eyes away from Banjo. His breaths were coming out shallow and I knew that if he hadn’t had so much fur, I would have been able to see his ribs.

 “What are you going to do?” I blurted as Richard laid him down on a set of blanketsCamhad put on the floor.

 “We’re going to feed him, water him and watch over him.”

 “Is that it?” I almost shouted. At least I had some restraint.

 “Yes that’s it. There isn’t anymore we can do for him. It will be up to him if he lives or not.”

No. I wouldn’t imagine it. I told myself not to imagine Banjo dead but humans are all the same. When you tell them to not imagine something, it immediately appears in their minds, as vivid as their own hands before them.

 A pool of tears gathered in my eyes. I tried to hide them by leaving them there and not drawing attention to wiping them away. However, as always,Camnoticed. She bit her lip and looked at me with sympathy. But I didn’t want it. I never wanted her sympathy because I didn’t like crying. I hated crying. And I hated sympathy even more.

 A fiery ball of anger built in my chest. I wanted to snap at her to look away, to leave me alone. Instead, I ran up the stairs taking them two at a time and locked myself in my room. The sudden exertion had me breathing heavily. I grabbed the pillow on the bed and gripped it as tightly as I could, burying my face in its softness. It helped me a lot. I calmed down within minutes, my whole body going limp on the duvet beneath me. And without warning, my eyelids grew heavy and sleep took over completely.

I woke up to complete darkness. My first thought was that I hadn’t been there at dinner to eat the mealCamhad gone to lengths to prepare and my second was that Banjo, my beloved friend and companion, was downstairs fighting for his life alone.