Little Wolf

Ch 7 Being Wolf

The next day was more of the same, with Dad going out of his way to get me ready to be on my own. The first thing the following day was a long trip into the county seat to get motorcycle added to my driving license. He insisted on a helmet, and I didn't argue.

He also insisted on a trip to the mall while we were in town. He bought me one dress shirt and a few casual shirts so I'd have something other than my usual tees. We had lunch in the food court, where he instructed me to bring the wolf within me closer to the surface. Dad was leaning back, remaining casual, commenting on the various smells and sounds. I was glad it was mid-week and not too crowded.

I felt like I was about to panic, freaked out by this new attitude he had. He and I had never really just hung together. It had always been my mom and me who took off to go places. It was hard to match his casual atmosphere and just chat about the wolf. It was hard to push down the rebellious teen I had been. I didn't know if I could keep doing it. Our eyes met.

Be a man. Who knew it was so frigging hard.

Dad made a few more stops after the mall, starting with a sweet set of removable saddlebags for the motorcycle from a tack shop. The sporting goods store was the next stop, where Dad bought me a duffel bag I could tie behind me on the bike, a new small tent, and a new hunting knife. I didn't understand the look Dad gave me when he held the knife thoughtfully before adding it to our stuff. He threw in a pocket knife as well, with a longer and more solid blade than the little one I usually carried.

Somehow I knew there was going to be another talk that night, one no more comfortable than the last, but no death grip on me either. A discussion concerning a knife wasn't going to be good. I started preparing myself now to be able to sit through it, no matter what he said.

We loaded up the truck. I fingered the saddlebags we'd gotten for my bike. I couldn't wait for the license to get processed so that I could ride the refurbished old motorcycle. I wished I could hop on it now. I was antsy and just couldn't relax. I wasn't looking forward to the ride back home. I couldn't help wondering if that was where he would start his talk- someplace I couldn't escape from if I wanted to. Stiffly, I got into the truck.

There was no talk. Dad had the radio playing quietly, old country songs, loud enough to fill the silence. Dad kept looking at me sideways on the drive home. He didn't say anything when he suddenly pulled the truck over by an expanse of woods along the freeway.

"Get out, Little Wolf."

He had this slight knowing smile on his face as he opened the driver's door, tucking the keys into his jeans.

Shit, now what? I kept my silence up, following him down to the woods near where we'd parked.

We were barely into them when Dad started stripping with a speed that spoke of practice. He was shifting his form even as he was setting the pile of clothes on top of his sneakers. Within seconds a huge black wolf stood before me. My dad looked expectantly at me through his wolf eyes.

"Dad..."

His gaze never wavered, not even a blink. His head dipped a little. He was waiting.

With a sigh, I lowered my gaze and pulled off my shirt, then the rest, but not with his speed. I made my stack on top of the new sneakers he'd gotten for me at the mall. Crouching down with one hand still on my clothes, I looked at him. I wasn't in the mood for whatever he had planned.

Dad looked tense, ready to pounce. Shit. I did an all-at-once shift, starting in my chest. Before I completely changed, his attack hit.