Little Wolf

Ch 2 Wolf's out of the bag

Things became awkward fast. I let go of my cousin's shoulder and stepped back a bit. I could tell Running Elk needed a moment to take it all in.

"You ok?" I asked with concern.

Running Elk shook his head, taking half a step backward, bumping against the short dirt wall behind him. It took a moment before words managed to spit their way out my cousin's throat. "Ok? Damn, Little Wolf, you always played up the wolf you were named after, but to actually be..."

Running Elk paused, his eyes a little glassy and his breath unsteady. I gave him a small smile. The times I'd daydreamed about showing someone what I was couldn't compare to having revealed it to my cousin this way. The nervous fear I could smell wafting from him had me worried.

"I'm still me, " I reassured him. "You've known me your whole life. Me being able to become a wolf doesn't change who I am, who I've always been."

My words seemed to soothe him. He snorted. "True, you've always been... wolfish."

We shared a grin, remembering our childhood. When we played hide-and-seek, I insisted the game be called hunter-and-prey. Even as we grew older, I would sneak up behind him to scare him. Running Elk wagged a finger at me. "You never even hinted that you were a frigging werewolf!"

"Council said not to tell anyone," I said with a shrug, "and Dad was always watching. Guess that means I can't complain about you coming out here tonight without telling me?" I raised an eyebrow at him and tilted my head, trying to look indignant.

"Yeah, you got no room to talk. But really, you couldn't even drop me a hint, Cuz? Me? That hurts, Little Wolf. And your mom, man!" Running Elk let out a nervous, choked-down chuckle. "Not quite the spirit I was looking for tonight. And to think she named you Little Wolf! No wonder you liked story-time so much. Did you pose for the covers? Oww, damn, Cuz," he exclaimed, rubbing his arm and glaring at me.

I felt terrible for my instinctual jab, but Mom's children's books were a tender subject. My dad and my grandfather had different reasons, but the same goal, as they attempted to convince my mom not to print them. I defended anything to do with my mom, now more than ever. I knew better than to let my emotions get the upper hand.

I grunted in remorse. "Sorry, Cuz."

"Aw, it's alright," Running Elk replied. "The books are awesome, and your mom..."

Another long silence. Running Elk took in the grief still in me, finally looking away. When he looked back, his eyes held an appraising look that went on until I began to get uncomfortable. I moved back against the small rise behind us and sat down. It took a moment, but Running Elk finally joined me.

"This is the place, isn't it," Running Elk asked softly, gesturing to the space in front of us.

I tapped the ground between us, then had to look away. Memories warred within me. I could easily recall Dad's fight with the cougar. Dad took advantage of the distraction my arrival caused, lunging in for the killing blow. The cougar's blood mixed with Mom's.

The image of Mom's changing hand reaching for me warred with silver fingers, her reassuring smile when I tried to hug her intangible form battled with her grimace of pain as she writhed on the blood-soaked ground. Red and silver swirled together in my mind, the silver finally winning.

Like the river she took her name from, I thought. There's always more than what we can see from the surface. I let out a sigh. Running Elk scooted closer, his shoulder bumping my arm. We were content to sit in silence for a while,

"Little Wolf," my cuz finally asked hesitantly, "what about the other ones that were here? Are they werewolves too?"

"Just regular wolves, 'cept Dad," I replied.