Apollo's Wolves

Chapter Two -- Delta

I'd been at Camp Half-Blood for less than a day and I already hated it. Too many demigods walking around like they were the most important beings on Earth. They all stank like death, and I could smell which ones had been to the ancient lands. Worse, Amari kept trying to make nice to me any chance she got. Every time I turned around, that twin of mine was there, offering to share clothes with me, show me around, sit next to me, teach me about the gods. I'd finally growled at her to leave me alone, and she had.

I found a secluded place by the stream and sat down next to it. Anger raged inside of me like a wildfire, and I'd seen plenty of those. I was angry with Mom, for leaving me behind to go chase down demigods in the ancient lands and for dying there; I was angry at Apollo for claiming me, because I never wanted to be claimed; I was angry at whatever instincts led me to this place; and I was angry at Amari. She was just another stuck-up, self-important demigod who happened to be a werewolf! Given the chance, she probably would've killed Mom herself, having been brought up by these people who hated us and our kind. Red flashed before my eyes, and I trembled with hatred. I rose slowly and turned back toward the camp. My nose went in the air as I sniffed for her. It took me only one second to find her scent, and I followed it quickly, finding her on the training field alone. She shot arrows at targets, ducking and hiding behind barriers. A small part of me whispered that she was actually good, talented. Too bad it was wasted on her. I crouched down in the bushes that surrounded the field and shifted, still watching her. Amari spun around a target, plunging an arrow into it as she passed, her back to me. It was only for a split second, but I was well-trained and took the chance. I leaped. My claws tore into the back of her shirt, and it was clear she hadn't heard me coming by the gasp my attack elicited from her.

She spun away from me, already shifting into her wolf form. That's it! Fight me evenly, dog! Clearly it hurt her, telling me that she didn't spend much time as a wolf. I attacked again, growling and snarling at her, sensing her fear as she tried to defend herself. It was plain as day that she had never been taught to hunt as a wolf, and she moved awkwardly, trying to use human tactics. I moved easily around her, biting and clawing her. She howled and cried as I drove her further onto the training field. Stupid demigod. If you'd been allowed to stay with our mother, she would have taught you to behave like a real wolf! You're pathetic! I sent all these thoughts through the link werewolves share, attacking her mentally as well as physically. Amari winced at the mental attacks.

Why are you doing this?

Why? Why? Because you're a sorry excuse for a werewolf, pet! You don't honor our kind!

Stop, please! Is this because I tried to show you around and share my clothes with you? All I wanted was a sister!

I snarled. It's because you exist! I pushed my attack harder, weakening her more and more. She kept going, though, barely defending herself. In one moment, she saw she might have an advantage, but I saw it, too, and was ready. She bit down on one of my forelegs, but I moved, so she barely grazed it. Your fangs are so dull they couldn't cut through paper! I led her around in circles. You'd do more damage if you would just stop chasing your tail! Amari's whimpers grew louder, and I knew I was wearing her down. I turned to attack her head on, but something grabbed me from behind and threw me to the ground.

A net had been thrown over me, and I struggled to get out of it, but it burned. The sun glinted off the metal links, and I identified it as silver. Someone, a muscular girl, stood over me grinning, a spear in her hands. A memory flashed before my eyes.

I was six, and running through the woods, changing into wolf form and back again. It was a game my mother had had me do many times, and I loved it. Even though I was young, I could shift almost as well as she could.