Wolf's Needs

Chapter Two

The first time she had ever shifted forms, it was so intense she had cried out until her voice was swallowed by a snout. It had taken hours, but it felt like days to her two year old body. That was why the pack never taught pups how to shift until at least six years old, because the torture was so intense that afterwards, she had passed out. Her body couldn't handle it. But she was always so curious, and after watching her mother and father do it over and over again, she figured it wasn't that bad.

She was so wrong.

But now, the shift was clean and easy. There was no pain, no agony, and it only took a split second. The pack healer had said that it was a miracle she had survived in the first place, and as she thought back to it, another shiver racked through her body, this one not from the cold but from the memory.

She ran and jumped up in human form, and landed in wolf form. She was as silent as a mouse as she hit the ground on all fours, and the once mud and blood covered body was replaced with a stark white and large one. Damn, it felt good. Although the human body wasn't an artificial cover or a mimic of somebody else, sometimes Meka's wolf - her other half - felt trapped inside, and she brewed close underneath the surface. They were the same person either way, Meka was the human, and Meka was the wolf all at the same time, but sometimes she felt different when she was in wolf form. Freer, stronger, fiercer. And she loved it.

She took off, and quickly the rancid and unclean scent of the bloodhounds faded into an ugly and distant memory. But she was still bleeding, and they'd be able to find her easily and quickly if she hid without wiping the scent.

A river. That voice was back, but it didn't sound as if it was a drawn out echo. And Meka was almost sure that it was in her head this time. That deep, timber voice that had commanded and loved and taught and helped Meka her whole life was back, only the body was still missing.

Daddy?

Meka, find a river. It was him, it had to be. But why wasn't he saying it. She turned her head left and right to see if she could find her father, maybe her mother will be right by his side. But she never spotted the larger brown wolf, or the small and thin gray wolf. But she could hear the roaring sound of water. It wasn't nearby, but way far ahead of her and about a mile to the left. It ran down the slope of a mountain, so she'd have to ride the heavy wave. Meka wasn't looking forward to it, and her gunshot wound will not take too lightly to that, but she wanted to be free more than she wanted her shoulder to be okay.

She banked a sharp left and sprinted over there as fast as she could. The dogs were more than a couple of miles away from where she was, and they wouldn't reach that spot before she reached he river, but she didn't want to take that chance. Faster, she grounded herself, faster Meka. Run faster.

FASTER!

She could hardly feel the ground beneath her frozen paws. The tree tops were thinning closer to the river, and a light drizzle befell on her thick winter coat. This was as close to flying as she had ever felt, and she almost howled in triumph and exhilaration. God, it felt so good to be a wolf right now.

Every cell in her body buzzed, and she warmed up and fought off the chilly wind as she exerted her strength and poured it into her legs to her paws. It picked up over here, and salty breeze brushed her muzzle and nose the closer she got. You're almost there, just keep going. She couldn't even hear the dogs anymore; they were so far behind her now. Imagine how far behind their owners were. They had probably stopped and went back for a car or horse to ride. That made her feel better more than running did. Now that was saying something.

She had reached the river. It was rougher than she thought it would, it pinpricks of it splashed onto her paws and forelegs. It was even colder than the air was. Going in to that would be a helluva mission.

She was about to jump in, albeit reluctantly, when her father's - or who she assumed was her father - voice spoke up again.

Go upstream.

WTH?

Why, why tell me to go upstream in these waters. That is the world's biggest struggle.

They won't expect that. Father answered back, which Meka was not expecting him to do. Jump out of the river a mile or so ahead and keep running north.

Thanks dad.

Well, father knows best, right? God, she hoped so. Meka waited for an "I believe in you," or "you can do it!" but it never came. After, she thought, I'll get a welcome home party. And she jumped in.

Well, jumped is the wrong word for it. More like stumbled gracelessly into the roaring waters with a heroic yelp. Her head hit the side of the bank, and before she could get a hold on the slippery rocks below she was sent tumbling down stream and was going southwest, not north. Her paws slipped from beneath her body, and her head was sent underwater. It was much deeper than she had anticipated, and while she was bigger than the average wolf and sometimes even taller than some humans, she was considered small and feminine like in her pack. The water almost reached above her pointed ears.

The more she struggled the farther she was sent sprawling down the river, it seemed. She couldn't gain purchase on the rocks, they were smoothed out from thousands of years of water coursing over them in a steady stream. Her long, lethal claws could hardly find a crack in the rocks, and when she did she was ripped away painfully and farther down the river.

Why, oh why, tell me to go upstream?

All she could hear was the water, pounding on her face and dunking her beneath its salty surface. Her long white fur whipped around her body and her skin beneath it was so cold it burned and yet it was numb at the same time. How high was this mountain anyways, and how long will it take for her to get down it?

Meka never stayed conscious to find out.

Hey, sorry for the short chapter.

I guess i was sorta rushing

eh.

Hope you like it!!