Brother Wolf

Ch 4 Philosophy

Dealing with the hatred in Simeon wasn't something I had initially considered when I thought about helping the werewolves out in the world. When I met my first werewolf besides my father, I had been excited to no end, until I realized how pathetically terrified Lone Wolf was. How not to help? Staring across at Simeon's inner turmoil made me pause. 

I took time to glance at Cherokee, and finally Arctic. Better to use generic names than real ones, I had told them at that first small gathering over a year ago. I had been suspicious of werewolves like the alpha who had terrorized Lone Wolf. I knew even then; there would be werewolf leaders who would not take kindly to someone interfering with their rule.

"What happened to you, to all of you," I added as I took in the other couples around me, "would never have happened if werewolves like the one that kidnapped you didn't exist."

"Exactly, " Simeon hissed, "which is why..."

"Killing all of the werewolves you find won't stop the tradition of biting men to create more werewolves, " I interrupted. "Besides, you'd never find us all. My great-grandfather on my dad's side of the family lived as a wolf. How many werewolves did he sire? Only my grandfather changed to man out of my great-grandfather's wolf pack, but does that mean he only had one son? How many natural wolves might be born werewolves, having no desire to stand on two feet? Would you kill every natural wolf?"

Simeon held himself stiffly as if he would if he had to.

I shook my head. Even though I sympathized with the man, I had to make him see reason. "You would have to kill every natural man as well. Who knows if the werewolf gene runs dormant within some men? Would you check people by running some sort of blood test? Would you reveal the existence of werewolves, igniting the entire world with unnecessary panic?"

I sighed, running my hands through my hair. I'd often had philosophical discussions with my mom concerning the nature of werewolves. To be or not to be, I thought with a slight self-deprecating smile. Learning about so many other werewolves reinforced the conclusion my mom and I had agreed on. I exist, and no one had the right to tell me I shouldn't.

"My mom was a vet, " I told Simeon. "She took me to a lab operated by a friend of hers when I was a teen. We tested my blood in private, from when I was a man, a wolf, and a combination of both. When I'm a wolf, the only thing a blood test showed is that I'm a wolf. Same when I'm a man. It's when I'm both that it shows in the blood, so some general testing of people does no good. Who would go to get tested if they were part wolf? No, there is no way to find all those scattered werewolves hiding in the world."

"Yet, that is what you plan to do," said Simeon.

"In a way, " I replied thoughtfully. "It's more accurate to say I'm creating a means for them to find me. What Sister mentioned, my connection to the Spirit of the Wolf... he desires to unite his people, I think, before things in the world get worse. I don't think you understand the whole situation I'm trying to deal with."

No one spoke as I sighed again. My thoughts drifted to one of the wolves I'd met at that first gathering. The elderly man I'd dubbed Old Grey had spent most of his life in the wilderness as a wolf.

"From what others have told me, " I explained, "I have at least part of our history, as a species, dating in America back to the Great Depression. It was a time when men left their families looking for work. There was some sort of feud between two werewolf packs. They grabbed men off the street, men whose absence wouldn't draw attention. They bit them, one hundred in total for each pack, then sent them out to fight each other in groups of twenty."

I looked up, unable to stop my slight grin, remembering the old man's cackles as he told his story. "Do you know what happens when you turn a man into a wolf?"